As morning finally pulled itself over the horizon, Derek could scarcely believe what it revealed. What had been an endless sunset of waist-high grass and a vast army of woodland was now a graveyard of burnt soldiers, some felled, some still on their feet. Most of the smaller trees had been completely incinerated and the larger ones now appeared like brittle skeletons, pencil sketches rendered on a charcoal canvas. The corpses of various animals and birds lay strewn at regular intervals. Scorched hooves, horns and bones lay among an ocean of seared rocks. The light-blue horizon jarred against the black land.
Derek found it difficult to believe that he had survived the wildfire with only a few minor burns on his arms and legs. Fortunately, the cold water from the lake had limited most of the damage and a fresh coat of mud had done much to soothe what little pain remained. Shawu had escaped virtually unscathed – he could not see a single scorch mark on her body. Myths, it seemed, were impervious to fire.
As they wound their way north, Derek wondered how widespread the blaze had been. How much had it destroyed? Was it still raging ahead of them somewhere? And, if so, what could possibly stop it? Dismissing the thought, he replayed the events of the evening over in his mind and two things were immediately apparent. Not only had Shawu saved his life, but it was now obvious that this was familiar territory to her. It was a route she had clearly travelled before. He could think of no other plausible explanation for her being able to find the only substantial body of water for miles. The more he thought about it, the more miraculous the events of the past few hours seemed.
While he watched Shawu move, he noticed that her injured leg no longer seemed to be troubling her at all and even the wound in her head appeared to be healing well. The prospect of her recovery was looking good, but he knew it was still far too early to declare victory.
After a while, Shawu drew to a halt and looked back at him.
Derek, in turn, pulled up and did the first thing that came into his mind – he bowed his head. It was all he could think to do. Her eyes remained on him for a few moments before she slowly turned away.
He wondered if she understood what he was trying to tell her.
He hoped so.
And then, in the quietness that only death can bring, across the warm drifts of burnt snow at their feet, they continued forward.
After miles of shuffling through the depressing and smouldering moonscape of ash and bone, they found the fire’s grave – the place where the Devil had consumed itself. It had finally perished on the banks of the Luvuvhu River, along the water’s edge. Gazing across the muddied stream, Derek’s eyes lit up at what he saw beyond the banks. It was as if a curtain had been pulled back to reveal another world. Edward had told him of this place, but nothing could prepare him for the sight of it. After slogging across barren tracts of mopane bush for hours on end, and then over rolling hills of ashland, the new landscape seemed almost alien by comparison. It was as if the river was not merely a natural boundary separating two pieces of land, but a border between different realms.
This was the much-vaunted Pafuri region and it was unlike anything Derek had ever seen. Towering cliffs hung over thick forests of large riverine trees, each tethered together by a latticework of vines and creepers. Large baobabs pierced the sides of opposing rock faces like momentous chess pieces battling for dominion over the gorge below. The area was a feast of fever trees, leadwoods, wild figs and many other trees whose names Derek did not know. The sky was speckled and blurred with all manner of colourful birds, only a handful of which he recognised. He was tempted to run and dive into the cool water, but a quick glance down the river’s rocky spine revealed a row of adult crocodiles lying in wait.
Oblivious to them, Shawu lumbered forward and stepped into the river. Knowing that this was the safest time to traverse a treacherous artery – as no sane crocodile would dare linger in the path of an approaching elephant – Derek tucked in close behind her. While she took a few minutes to quench what was a considerable thirst, he used the opportunity to fill his water bottles and drink until his own stomach was stretched and bloated.
As they finally left the water and headed up the bank, he felt like they had stepped into an ancient and sacred amphitheatre. They rounded a row of wild fig trees and were greeted by a low and gentle waterfall cascading into a large natural pool. The water was surrounded by smooth and translucent boulders, large ovals almost like dark crystal.
There was a coveted area high in the eastern Transvaal known by the locals as God’s Window. As Derek strode towards the black pool, it occurred to him that if that was his window then, surely, this had to be his view.