Page 1 of The Scandalous Saga of the White Lady

Chapter 1

The English lady sat relaxed in the front of the boat. Her eyes focused on the dense green foliage along the bank. She held the rim of her large straw hat with one hand and with the other pointed to a primate swinging through the canopy of trees above their heads.

“And just what is that?”

The young chap interrupted his stroke from the back of the long native canoe and looked where the lady was pointing.

“It must be a monkey.”

Using both hands, the lady lifted her veil for a better look. “No, it is too large for a monkey.”

“Then it must be a baboon.”

She held her hands loosely on the rim of the canoe, turned her head and glared at him. She had to challenge his assertion. “And how would you know about these things?”

He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I read books. And I go to museums.”

“How very noble,” she said. She turned back around, lowered her veil, and once again, placed her hands on the rim of the boat.

The current was steadily flowing, and they paddled at a leisurely pace.

The lady started to fidget on her seat. “How do you stop this thing?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I guess I would paddle to the bank and park it.”

She took in a sharp breath and snorted. “You guess? Your books and museums do not tell you that for certain?”

“Well, the native guide suggested that.” He chuckled.

The young man felt the pull of his paddling slowly increase as the water became swifter.

The Lady squinted her eyes and her nostrils flared like a raging bull. “And tell me again why, in God’s name, we did not bring him along to steer this… toy boat?”

“We came on this trip for an adventure and we wanted to experience life in Africa for ourselves as much as possible.”

He was exerting more energy as he paddled harder in deeper water and faster current. He was panting. Under his hat, sweat dribbled down his neck and along his spine. The once-loose and dry linen shirt was now soaked and stuck to his back.

The river was becoming swifter and water was beginning to slosh over the sides of the canoe. He struggled to maintain control and attempted to maneuver the boat through the narrowing.

“This just might be a little more African life than I anticipated or desired,” she said now becoming panicky.

Her breath quickened. Her knuckles were whitening as she tightened her grasp on the sides of the boat. “I think you had better paddle us to any shore immediately.”

They heard the roar of falling water up ahead.

“I am trying to,” the young man said.

He tightened his grip on the paddle, desperately trying to steer the boat toward the bank, but to no avail. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were cramping. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.

The boat was now pitching and rocking as the previously placid river was quickly flowing into a series of rapids.

He was breathing harder now.

However hard the young man paddled, the canoe continued to careen down the center of the river. He felt his grip on the paddle slipping. His fingers were cold and numb.

The lady now had a death grip on the rim of the canoe.She noticed the caps of the water whiten and the waves rise and crash fiercely on each other.She narrowed her eyes and raised her voice.

“And just where is the next bend in the river?”