The Seventh Scroll

the coma of sleeping sickness or some other terrible tropical

affliction. Their whines and moans of agony blended with the chanting of

the monks, and with the distant clamour of the Nile as it cascaded into

the cauldron.

They came at last to the entrance to the cavern cathedral of St.

Frumentius. It was a circular opening like the mouth of a fish, but the

surrounds of the portals were painted with a dense border of stars and

crosses, and of saintly heads. The portraits were primitive, and

rendered in ochre and soft earthy tones that were all the more appealing

for their childlike simplicity. The eyes of the saints were huge and

outlined in charcoal, their expressions tranquil and benign.

A deacon in a grubby green velvet robe guarded the entrance, but when

Tessay spoke to him he smiled and nodded and gestured for them to enter.

The lintel was low and Nicholas had to duck his head to pass under it,

but on the far side he raised it again to look about him in amazement.

The roof of the cavern was so high that it was lost in the gloom. The

rock walls -were covered with murals, a celestial host of angels and

archangels who flickered and wavered in the light of the candles and oil

lamps. They were partially obscured by the long tapestry ba

hung down the walls, grimy with incense soot, their fringes frayed and

tattered. On one of these St. Michael rode a prancing white horse, on

another the Virgin knelt at the foot of the cross, while above her the

pate body of Christ bled from the wound of the Roman spear in his side.

This was the outer nave of the church. In the far wall ". the doorway to

the middle chamber was guarded by a massive pair of wooden doors that

stood open. The three of them crossed the stone floor, picking their way

between the kneeling petitioners and pilgrims in their rags and tatters,

in their misery and their religious ecstasy. In the feeble light of the

lamps and the blue haze of incense smoke they seemed lost souls

languishing eternally in the outer darkness of purgatory.

The visitors reached the set of three stone steps that led up to the

i

deacons in tall, flat-topped hats.

One of these addressed Tessay sternly.

"They will not even let us enter the qiddist, the middle chamber,'

Tessay told them regretfully. "Beyond that lies the maqdas, the Holy of

Holies." A

They peered past the guards, and in the gloom of the qiddist could just

make out the door to the i

"Only the ordained priests are allowed to enter the maqdas, for it

contains the tabot and the entrance to the tomb of the saint."

Disappointed and frustrated, they made their way out of the cavern and

back along the terrace. They ate their di

The air was still stiflingly hot, and clouds of mosquitoes hovered just

out of range of the repellents with which they had all smeared their

exposed skin.

"And so, English, I have got you where you wanted to be. Now, how are

you going to find this animal that you have come so far to hunt?" The

vodka was making Boris belligerent again.

"At first light I want you to send out your trackers to work the country

downstream from here," Nicholas told him. "Dik-dik are usually active in

the early morning, and again late in the afternoon."

"You are teaching your grandpapa to skin a cat," said Boris,  angling

the metaphor. He poured himself another vodka.

"Tell them to check for spoor." Nicholas deliberately laboured his

point. "I imagine that the tracks of the striped variety will look very

similar to those of the common dikdik. If they find indications, then

they must sit quietly along the edge of the thickest patches of bush and

watch for any movement of the animals. Dik-dik are very territorial.

They won't stray far from their own turf."

"Da! Da! I will tell them. But what will you do? Will you spend the day

in camp with the ladies, English?" He gri

you may soon not need separate huts?" He guffawed at his own wit,.and

Tessay , looked distressed and stood up with the excuse that she was

going to the kitchen hut to supervise the chef.

Nicholas ignored the boorish pleasantry. "Royan and I will work the

river in bush along the banks of the Dandera river. It looked very

promising habitat for dik-dik. Warn your people to keep clear of the

river. I don't want the game disturbed."

They left camp the next morning in the glimmer of the dawn. Nicholas

carried the Rigby rifle and a light day pack, and led Royan along the

bank of the Dandera. They moved slowly, stopping every dozen paces to

look and listen. The thickets were alive with the sounds and movements

of the small mammals and birds.

"The Ethiopians do not have a hunting tradition, and I imagine the monks

never disturb the wildlife here in the gorge." He pointed to the tracks

of a small antelope in the moist earth of the bank. "Bushbuck," he told

her. "Menelik's bushbuck. Unique to this part of the world. A much

sought-after trophy."

"Do you really expect to find your great-grandfather's dik-dik?" she

asked. "You seemed so determined when you discussed it with Boris."

"Of course not," he gri

rather have been named Harper's chimera.

It probably was the skin of a striped mongoose that he used after all.

We Harpers didn't get on in the world by always sticking to the literal

truth."

They paused to watch a Tacazze suribird fluttering over a bunch of

yellow blossoms high above them  in the canopy of the river in forest.

The tiny bird's plumage sparkled like a tiara of emeralds.

"Still, it gives us a wonderful excuse to fossick about in the bushes."

He glanced back to make certain that they were well clear of the camp,

and then gestured for her to sit beside him on a fallen treetrunk. "So,

let's get it clear in our minds what we are looking for. You tell me."

"We are looking for the remains of a funerary temple, or the ruins of

the necropolis where the workers lived while they were excavating

Pharaoh Mamose's tomb."

"Any sort of masonry or stonework," he agreed, especially Ily some sort

of column or monument."

Taita's stone testament," se noc "It's engraved or chiselled with

hieroglyphics. Probably badly weathered, fallen over, covered with

vegetation - I don't know. Anything at all. We are fishing blind in dark

waters."

"Well, why are we still sitting here? Let's start fishing." In the

middle of the morning Nicholas found the tracks of a dik-dik along the

river bank. They took up a position against the hole of one of the big

trees and sat quietly for a while in the shadows of the forest, until at

last they were rewarded by a glimpse of one of the tiny creatures. It

passed close to where they sat, wriggling its trunklike proboscis,

stepping daintily on its fill hooves, nipping a leaf from a low-hanging

branch, and munching it busily. However, its coat was a uniform drab

grey, unrelieved by stripes of any kind.

When it disappeared into the undergrowth, Nicholas stood up. "No luck.

Common variety," he whispered. "Let's get on."