Into Duff Is room. He dropped Duff on the bed and stripped his clothes

off, then he rolled him under the blankets. He brought the enamel wash

basin from the bathroom and placed it next to the bed. You may need

this, sleep well. There's a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. He stopped

again at the top of the stairs and looked down their marble slope into

the splendour of the lobby.

He was leaving all of it and that was nothing to feel happy about. He

laughed aloud. Perhaps it was because he had faced complete

:annihilation and at the last instant had changed it into something

less; by avoiding the worst he had made defeat into a victory. A

pathetic little victory to be sure, but at least they were no worse off

now than they had been when they had arrived on the Rand. Was that the

reason? Sean thought about it and found that it wasn't the whole truth.

There was also a feeling of release. That was another part of it. To

go on his way:

north to a new land. He felt the tingle of anticipation. Not a whore

or a stockbroker within five hundred miles he said aloud and grinned. He

gave up trying to find words for his feeling. Emotion was so damned

elusive: as soon as you cornered it, it changed its shape and the net of

words which you had ready to throw over it was no longer suitable. He

let it go free to range through his body, accepting and enjoying it. He

ran down the stairs, out through the kitchens and into the stable yard.

Mbejane! he shouted, where the hell are you The clatter of a stool

overturning in the servants quarters and the door of one of the rooms

burst open. Nkosi, what is it? The urgency of Sean's voice had alarmed

Mbejane.

Which are the six best horses we have?

Mbejane named them, making no attempt to hide his curiosity.

Are they all salted against the Nagana? "All of them, Nkosi. Good,

have them ready before tomorrow's light. Two with saddles, the others

to carry the packs Mbejane turned on his smile. Could it be we are

going hunting, Nkosi?

It could easily be, Sean agreed.

Sleeping sickness. Salting involved deliberate exposure to the sting of

the tsetse fly. Animals that recovered were then immune. How long will

we be gone, Nkosi? How long is for ever? Take leave of all your women,

bring your kaross and your spears and we will see where the road leads

Sean went back to his bedroom. It took him half an hour to pack. The

pile of discarded clothing in the centre of the room grew steadily and

what he kept made only half a horseload. He crammed it into two leather

valises.

He found his sheepskin coat in the back of one of the closets and threw

it over a chair with his leather breeches and slouch hat, ready to wear

in the morning. He went down to the study and made his selection from

the gun rack, ignoring the fancy doubles and obscure calibres. He took

down a pair of shotguns and four Mannlichers.

Then he went to tell Candy goodbye. She was in her suite but she opened

quickly to his knock.

Hav you heard? he asked her. Yes, the whole town knows. Oh! Sean,

I'm so sorry please come in.

She held the door open for him. How is Duff? He'll be all right, right

now he's both drunk and asleep. I'll go to him, she said quickly. He'll

need me now.

For answer Sean raised an eyebrow and looked at her until she dropped

her eyes.

No, you're right, I suppose. Perhaps later, when he's got over the

first shock. She looked up at Sean and smiled. I suppose you need a

drink. It must have been hell for you as well. She went across to the

cabinet. She had on a blue gown and it clung to the womanish thrust of

her hips and did not go high enough to cover the cleft of her breasts.

Sean watched her pour his drink and bring it to him. She was lovely, he

thought.

Till we meet again, Candy, Sean lifted his glass.

Her eyes went wide and very blue. I don't understand.

Why do you say that!

We're going, Candy, first thing tomorrow No, Sean, you're joking. But

she knew he wasn't.

There wasn't much to say after that. He finished his drink and they

talked for a while, then he kissed her.

Be happy, please, he ordered her. I'll try. Come back one day soon.

Only if you promise to marry me, he smiled at her and she caught hold of

his beard and tugged his head from side to side. Get away with you,

before I hold you to that. He left her then because he knew she was

going to weep and he didn't want to watch it.

The next Duff packed his gear under Sean's direction. He followed each

instruction with a dazed obedience, answering when Sean spoke but

otherwise withdrawn in a protective shell of silence. When he had

finished Sean made him pick up his bags and marched him down to where

the horses waited in the chill gloom of not-yet day. With the horses

were men, four shapes in the darkness. Sean hesitated before going out

into the yard. Mbejane, he called. Who are these with you?

They came forward into the light that poured through the doorway and

Sean chuckled.

Hlubi, of the noble belly! Nonga! And is it you, Kandhla? Men who had

worked beside him in the trenches of the Candy Deep, had plied the

spades that had uncovered his fortune, had plied the spears that

protected it from the first predators. Happy at his recognition of

them, for it had been many years, they crowded forward smiling as widely

and whitely as only a Zulu can. What brings you three rogues together

so early in the day? Sean asked, and Hlubi answered for them. Nkosi,

we heard talk of a trek and our feet burned, we heard talk of hunting

and we could not sleep There is no money for wages, Sean spoke gruffly

to cover the sudden rush of affection he felt for them. We made no talk

of wages, Hlubi answered with dignity. Sean nodded, it was the reply he

had expected. He cleared his throat and went on. You would come with

me when you know that I have the Tagathi on me? He used the Zulu word f

or witchcraft. You would follow me knowing that behind me I leave a

spoor of dead men and sorrow? Nkosi, Hlubi was grave as he answered.

Something always dies when the lion feeds, and yet there is meat for

those that follow him. I hear the chatter of old women at a beer drink,

Mbejane observed drily. There is no more to say and the horses grow

restless. They rode down the driveway of Xanadu between the jacaranda

trees and the smooth wide lawns. Behind them the mansion was grey and

unlighted in the half darkness.

They took the Pretoria road, climbed to the ridge and checked their

horses at the crest. Sean and Duff looked back across the valley. The