15
The sound of singing lured Sam from the camping ground at Drotsky’s Camp. He’d been lying in the hammock, strung between two mighty trees, letting the suggestion of a late-afternoon breeze cool the sweat on his bare chest after finishing putting up the tents. He put down the field guide to African mammals he had been reading and pulled on his T-shirt.
A well-trodden, winding path led him through the thick riverine bush towards the main dining area, a wooden building with a thatched roof and a wide shady verandah overhanging the Okavango River.
He saw a flash of colour through the leaves ahead, orange and bright and bobbing like some exotic African bird. When he emerged in a grassy clearing he saw it was a woman – several, in fact. A singing, dancing, clapping procession dressed in vi
