The Pulse of Danger

‘I always wanted to collect there.’ His voice was wistful, but somehow it didn’t seem ridiculous in such a big rough man; the tone of regret and disappointment was too genuine. ‘I used to read all about the French missionaries, blokes like David and Delavay and Soulié. People pottering about in their gardens in England and America and Australia, anywhere at all, most of them don’t know where their plants originated. They came from China and most of them were found by those French missionaries. Then blokes like Wilson, Forrest, Kingdon Ward. I read all about them and I wanted to follow them. No, I wanted to go one step further, bring back something they’d never discovered. I wanted to go up into northern Yunnan, all my rainbows seemed to end there in Yunnan. Then you bastards came along and put the kybosh on the idea.’ He looked back at Li. ‘I’d have walked all the way into Yunnan if your government would have given me permission. It would have been some hike, but I don’t suppose you’d have thought it much beside the Long March?’

‘Hardly, Mr. Marquis. Six thousand miles, across twelve provinces, for three hundred and sixty-eight days. We fought fifteen major battles and I’ve forgotten how many skirmishes. We climbed eighteen mountain ranges and crossed six rivers. A hundred thousand of us.’

‘You know your facts.’

‘We were not looking for plants, Mr. Marquis. We were looking for the survival of an ideal. The facts were beaten into my brain, my heart and my body. I lost my father and my two elder brothers on the march. I have not forgotten a day nor a mile of it.’

‘I guess you wouldn’t,’ Marquis said ungrudgingly. He admired courage and endurance; he had never been the sort to withhold his respect for a man as a man because of the latter’s politics. ‘Then you won’t think much of this little walk we’re going to do in the next few days, eh?’

‘It will stretch my legs, that’s all.’

‘Well, behave yourself or you might get your neck stretched, too. Someone tried to do you in a while ago.’

Li nodded. He was more composed now, there was no sign of the fear that had gripped him immediately after the attempt on his life. ‘My comrades will still kill you.’

The dialogue had gone full circle; the Chinese had even gone back to his same grin of amusement at what was going on in the camp. Marquis, suddenly frustrated and angry, bounced the polythene bag in his hand, wanting to throw it at Li Bu-fang’s head.

‘What is that?’ The Chinese nodded at the bag.

‘A plant. It’s called Meconopsis regia, one of the poppy family.’

‘You admire flowers?’

‘When I see them growing wild, yes. But not in drawing-rooms. Or in neat little gardens.’

‘You are like the man who cannot bear to see wild animals in a zoo?’

‘If you like.’

‘But flowers are beauty. Don’t you like to see beauty indoors?’

‘Maybe it’s just that I don’t like indoors. Are you an admirer of beauty?’

‘Why not? If you had lived the life I have, you might find need of it. Indoors and outdoors, wherever you can find it. What are you going to do with it?’ He nodded at the polythene bag. ‘Take it with you?’

Marquis glanced down towards the garden. The polythene bags glistened in the early morning light, a clump of artificial blooms that seemed to mock him. ‘There’s seven months’ work there. The best collection I’ve ever made. When you come to think of it, there’s no more peaceable work than that of a botanist. Beside us, Bertrand Russell and his mob are cannibals with a tapeworm. And now I’ve got to throw away seven months’ work because of you bastards.’ He bounced the bag in his hand. ‘I’ll take this back and name it after you. It’s bright red in colour, very appropriate.’

‘I’ll be honoured.’

‘No, you won’t. I’ll explain the reason I named it after you, and then every botanist in the world will hate your guts.’

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