The method in my madness was that as I could not compete on an intellectual level for Maria’s attention, I would do what these doctors could not: be a bushman. I still had a problem with the mixed messages from Maria; was she stuck on Corrine or could I make a play? I must admit that it was something of a challenge to get a doctor into my bed, and this one would do nicely.
Maria was now worrying about sleeping arrangements. Will was also dazzled by the Spaniard, but being the gentleman he was, and quite aware of my intentions, he stated plainly that he would not share his tent with either Maria or me. We were camped next to the river in a dense copse of Acacia trees. In order to see the stars, which are brilliant so far from the city lights, we had to walk up to a patch of Savannah a hundred metres or so from our camp. I left Will and Maria at the camp fire in order to seek out the Southern Cross. The sky was so full of stars that the Milky Way lived up to its name, a solid patch of light; beautiful. As I was standing there a warm body snuggled up to my back and soft arms wrapped around me; they were NOT Will’s. A sexy voice whispered in my ear, ‘It is beautiful, no?’ Oh yes it was. Maria took my hand and I pointed out the Southern Cross and how to use the two pointers to find true south. The bushveld can be chilly at night, so we hugged to kept warm. We returned to the fire and lay on a blanket by the fire: bliss. Will retired to his tent and every now and then had some comment to make. Presently, he was quiet, and Maria and I chatted.
The fear of being quick lay came out in broken English; being a gentleman, I told her I would settle for just sleeping in her arms.
The following day I took them to a dam a few kilometres up the road. The dam was crystal clear and has signs that stated, “Beware of the crocodiles.” They are not joking; having camped at this site before, I had seen plenty of little beady eyes in my torchlight at night. Will took a photo of Maria and me standing next to the sign. The three of us walked along the edge of the dam in the long grass, looking for crocodiles or snakes. We did not see any but a lot of baby monitor lizards made a dash for the water as we passed. I devised a plan!.
On the way back I walked thigh-deep in the water while the other two walked on the bank. They were worried I would get eaten by a croc; as the water was clear and we had just walked that way without seeing any crocodiles, I thought the risk was worth it. The baby monitor lizards were back on land, Will and Maria walking just ahead of me frightened them back into the water. This gave me the opportunity to grab one. I dived at a small lizard, about 60 cm long, and caught him in the middle, not around the neck as intended. The feisty little chap latched his mouth onto my left wrist, drawing blood. Eventually, with much splashing about, I brought him to land and disengaged his jaws from my wrist. A good bit of watered-down blood was flowing and the two foreigners were impressed. No matter what I told Maria about the difference between a crocodile and a monitor lizard she was convinced I had caught a baby croc for her. Okay, okay. Maybe I did not try hard enough to explain, but my intellectual competitors for Maria’s favours could kiss my arse! That night we snuggled close and I slept well. In some areas I have immense patience.
To be continued….
Taken from: The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief II
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