The Gobi Desert (12 page)

If anyone wants to know, on the eve of the most decisive event of our adventure, the full extent to which Sanders wanted to demonstrate his affection for me, then they should listen to what took place between him and me one moonlit, snow-covered night, at the end of a day which was also marked by a little incident which might have shaped my destiny - and that of Alzire - in a completely different way.

We never failed to investigate, as best we could, any of the innumerable caverns which we came across on our journey. The results were always rather unsatisfactory. Sanders was obstinate however. He claimed that our failures were due to the fact that too often we didn't go right to the end of our exploration. In the end he put forward the theory that, like those nicely-built bachelor apartments, many of the caves would have both an entrance and an exit. While we were coming in from one end, the animals, alerted by the barking of our dogs, could easily escape through the other. Nain-Sain was inclined towards this opinion. But this particular event however did not prove them right.

Despite all the entreaties of our leader, there was one precaution which I could less and less resign myself to, and that was to burden myself with my rifle during these fruitless searches. As well as my revolver, which never left my side, I always had under my arm a little horse whip made of plaited leather, which I used to encourage my pony when caresses and soft words were not sufficient.

So Sanders, Neratov, and I, not forgetting the inevitable Kiss, plus Kailar with two more of our dogs on leads, found ourselves that afternoon at the entrance to one of these famous caves. The passage way into the cave was obstructed by thick lichens which had formed into dense bushes. Sanders tried to clear all this away by kicking at it with his feet. Just at that moment, Kiss began to bark. Although I was used to his outbreaks of temper, I now had the distinct impression that his barking was completely different, and good God, I wasn't wrong. At the same moment Kailar's dogs also began to howl like death.

‘Hey! Mr Sanders! Look out!'

It was me who was standing closest to him, three or four steps behind. I was the only one out of the four of us to have seen it. Such a ghastly horror! Who could have imagined such a thing! Snakes in the Gobi Desert! Was this hideous apparition really a snake? We would check in a minute. For the moment there was only one thing to do! Whish! Whish! Whish!

That was it! Three cracks of my whip had done the job pretty well. Disturbed by Sanders while it was resting, this horrible creature had suddenly reared up between him and me. My horse whip had broken its spine just at the moment when it was about to plant its two fangs into my companion's thigh. Can you imagine this abject and terrifying animal, something between a reptile and a huge centipede, an ancient basilisk, its skin covered with a sort of slimy fibre like seaweed? A revolting blood-stained dribble flowed from its throat. Its eyes were like two horrible rubies, already darkened by death . . . .

‘Dolly! Dolly! Come back!' But it was too late.

*

Ten o'clock in the evening! It was hard to believe. Not since the start of the expedition had we kept watch so late.

‘Michel, don't forget I want a word with you.'

‘At your command, Mr Sanders!'

Despite the sadness at the death of Dolly, he had insisted that we should drink some champagne. It was a terrible moment when we watched the poor creature writhing in agony, which Neratov put an end to with a compassionate bullet behind its ear. Having got loose from Kailar, Dolly had launched herself furiously at the monster, whose ghastly flat head still had the ability to spit out a sort of dark, menacing spittle. In a final spasm, its terrible fangs had fastened themselves onto the dog's neck. It was impossible to tear them away! Less than an hour later Dolly gave up her little soul. She was the oldest of Sanders' team. She had taken part with him in more than a dozen hunting expeditions, in Korea, in the Ussuri and the Ghirin, as far as Baikal. Never had she complained about injury or pain. Most recently the capture of the Mikado had cost her three broken ribs.

We got back to the convoy in silence. Only then did Sanders take me by the hand.

‘I owe my life to you, Michel,' he said. ‘I don't want you to think that you're dealing with someone who isn't grateful.'

When I said that we had drunk some champagne, that meant Sanders, Welowski, Neratov, and me. The three Koreans preferred koumiss, which is a filthy drink to lift the heart of every self-respecting orthodox Christian. Ilichine never drank. Nor did Nain-Sain. Besides, that evening it was Nain-Sain's turn to be on watch. For the past week, every three hours, even throughout the night, Sanders had insisted that each one of us should take our turn on guard duty. He certainly must have had his reasons for that.

All the same it was a curious sensation, in such a solitary place, to hear corks popping and see this French wine bubbling in our glasses. The black silhouettes of our vehicles, which were arranged in a circle and making dull clucking noises, stood out against the yellow snow in the moonlight. The horses were asleep. But the camels in their pen could perhaps smell something threatening in the bitter wind of the steppe which our other animals could not discern. We heard them moaning pitifully, so that even the most hardened among us wished that the sad light of the dawn would not be too long in coming to visit us again.

*

‘I won't keep you any longer, fellas!'

Welowski and Neratov saluted, then shook the hand extended out to them, and clicked their heels. I was left alone with Sanders. There was a moment's silence. Then he said:

‘Do you realise, Michel? I'll say it again, I owe you my life.'

‘Mr Sanders, please. It's not worth talking about it.'

‘You're a good fellow, you really are. And on the contrary, I think it is worth talking about it. Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?'

He took out an envelope from the inside pocket – the left pocket, let's be precise! – of his jacket.

‘Do you know what this is? It's my will. Adventures such as the one that happened to me this afternoon make us all want to put our affairs in order. This is what I've been busy doing, in view of the kindness which you have inspired in me, and the gratitude which I owe you as from today.'

I looked at him with a mixture of mistrust and astonishment. He wasn't going to make me his heir, was he? But it seemed he was. Men really are strange creatures. Such a gesture from someone who at times I hated! The amazement which showed on my face the more he tried to explain himself must have been such that he couldn't prevent a smile. He gently took my hand.

‘Why should you be so surprised? Days such as those which we have just spent have brought us closer together more than a lifetime could have done. And besides, everything that I own I shall have to leave to someone, won't I?'

‘Isn't there anyone else you could consider apart from me?' I asked warily. ‘Ilichine and Neratov for example, who you knew before me? Or even that Otto Streep, who has been in your service for I don't know how many years.'

He smiled.

‘Precisely! That Otto Streep, as you call him, has had all these years in which to make his mark. You don't get bored working as an accountant for old Sanders, believe me! Just recently I gave him his share of the proceeds from the sale of the Mikado. As for the others, how do you know I haven't considered them? You will be the first to know, since you will also be the executor of my will. But it's amusing, you and your scruples, my friend! Instead of being embarrassed about all this, you would do better to concern yourself with the money which might come your way, one day which I hope will be as far into the future as possible. So put your mind at rest on that score.'

Thereupon he began, with a childish desire to please, to enumerate all the financial successes which, having started from nothing, he had achieved over forty years of hard work, years which hadn't always been a bed of roses. He recounted to me his whole life as a poor solitary adventurer, in such detail and with such feeling that he was capable of softening the hardest heart, and mine even more so, in view of what he was going to do for me. But the more he spoke the more my dislike of him seemed to grow. There was something which I was certain I would never, ever, forget: that he had held Alzire in his arms, for a whole night. ‘And so what?' you would be right to ask me. Oh yes, I understand. It's true that I had never experienced that sort of resentment towards anyone else, anyone at all, even those who I have had to get to know or sometimes even had to put up with, in different circumstances. Why then should I feel it towards the one man who had ever been interested in me, who was all in all the only benefactor I had ever had? I couldn't understand that at all. But in the end there was nothing to say, that was the fact of the matter.

Sanders however continued with his reminiscences about his past, evidently a million miles from comprehending what was going on in my mind; perhaps he was a bit surprised by my silence, which he no doubt took as gratitude which I couldn't express there and then in a sufficiently eloquent manner.

‘Michel, you're not saying anything? Anyway, I hope you're following me. I still have all my faculties, and barring accidents I certainly have no intention of departing before I have built up a serious pot of money which I shall leave to my heir. But even if that should happen tomorrow, the lucky fellow would benefit from a nice inheritance. The details will be supplied to you on the attached form, and you will come into your inheritance once probate has been granted by the first magistrate or British consul you can find.'

He coughed. He was enjoying his little game. He was feeling sorry for himself, thinking that no-one in the world would remember him.

‘And I was forgetting the profit from our expedition! It might not achieve its basic aim, the capture of our friend Kublai, which incidentally I must talk to you about in more detail and which perhaps is not so far off as we might think. But anyway, even if we fail, the enterprise will not be showing a loss. Once everything has been settled, including payment of the bonuses for our Russian and Korean comrades, you will still have the proceeds from the sale of our stock of hides, not to mention the guarantee which has been promised by the Zoological Society of Sydney. So that means we will just about break even, right? But if by any chance we succeed, and something tells me it won't be long now before we find out, then for me, that's to say for you, it won't just be the nice sum I was telling you about a moment ago, but a fortune, do you hear, a real fortune. I don't know what influence your past life still has over you, but I can tell you, you won't have any reason to be disappointed.'

Said with a timid assurance, this reference to the events which I have described evoked no more response than a pebble dropped to the bottom of an abyss.

‘You're not answering me?' said Sanders, his throat a bit dry. ‘Still, I like to think that you don't have any reason to be unhappy.'

At that moment something happened which relieved me of having to tell what would only have been yet another lie in my sad life. A prolonged moan could be heard in the lorry. It was Kiss, Kiss sitting at his master's feet, and who thought it was a good idea to remind us that he was still there.

‘He's never howled like that before!' I murmured.

‘Never, that's true!' agreed Sanders.

We went out and made two or three turns round the camp. The cold was intense. Not a star in the sky, which was shrouded in a red mist.

‘That's enough for today! Let's go back inside and get to bed!' ordered Sanders in a rough voice.

*

I didn't sleep at all, not a wink. It's a curious feeling, when you can't sleep, but you find yourself in a state which is not exactly a dream, but which somehow seems like one. Here I was, the executor of Sanders' will, someone who I didn't even know three months ago. What an abracadabra sort of situation! In my semi-conscious state I went over the rough figures which he had just given to me, concerning the evaluation of his assets. It's true, I wouldn't have much to complain about, provided he didn't make me wait too long. But built as he was like an animal, it could very well be him taking me to the cemetery. In return for which, and to top it all, it would be him to whom I should be grateful. What a schemer! Never had I detested him so much. And this ill-concealed way he had of talking about something which was still the most dear to me in the whole world! ‘My money is yours, but on the strict condition that not one penny should go to your young friend.' Of course, he didn't dare to put it quite like that, the miserable creature. But that was what I felt in every one of his words, and even more so in each silence. Honestly and truly, that was what I felt!

Anyway, he himself was asleep, and sleeping very peacefully, to judge by his breathing. If he was less trusting of what was going on in his neighbour's head, perhaps he would have been less calm. Even so, it wasn't warm in that lorry, not by any stretch of the imagination. I thought I might as well get out and try and stretch my legs, since it would soon be daylight. A faint, drawn-out light began to appear outside, making it possible to discern more or less the desolate surroundings of the spot where we had pitched our camp. I say
more or less
because the effect of that doleful glow was hindered by a mist which rose up at the same time, a mist which seemed to take a diabolical pleasure in changing the shape of those objects which the daylight was simultaneously trying to reveal. It was like a sort of weak and pale nightmare which was developing around me. I shuddered, and it wasn't only due to the cold.

As usual our two lorries and four cars were formed in a circle, in the centre of which for the past three or four days Sanders had insisted that the horses and camels, which ordinarily were free to wander as they wished, should be kept each night as in a pen. I went up to them, to try to get a bit of warmth from them, these poor exhausted beasts. They did not move. I was surprised, since daybreak usually found them awake. My surprise suddenly turned into astonishment. They were not asleep. Each one had its eyes wide open, staring fixedly in the same direction, paralysed with a look of horror such that I had never seen before, and which I hope with all my heart never to see again.