In the heat, but always the pain was there like a rock to hold onto. The

steam from the sea coiled up around him and it hardened into the shape

of a woman and he thought it was Katrina, then he saw its head was a

leopard's head and its breath stank like the rotting of a gangrenous

leg, I don't want you, know who you are! he shouted at it. I don't

want you. It's not my child, and the thing broke into steam, twisting

grey steam, and came back gibbering at him on a chain that tinkled,

frothing yellow from the grey misty mouth, and terror came with it. He

twisted and covered his face, holding onto the pain for the pain was

real and steady.

Then after a thousand years the sea froze and he walked on it and the

white ice stretched away wherever he looked. It was cold and lonely on

the ice. There was a small wind, a cold small wind, the wind whispered

across the ice and its whispering was a sad sound, and Sean held his

pain, hugging it close to him for he was lonely and only the pain was

real. Then there were other figures moving around him on the ice, dark

figures all hurrying one way, crowding him, pushing him along with them

and he lost his pain, lost it in the desperate hurrying press.

And though they had no faces, some of the figures wept and others

laughed and they hurried forward until they came to the place where the

crevasse split across the ice in front of them. The crevasse was wide

and deep and its sides were white, then pale-green shading to blue and

at last to infinite blackness, and some of the figures threw themselves

joyfully into it it singing as they fell. Others clung to edges, their

formless faces full of fear, and still others stepped off into the void,

tiredly, like travellers at the end of a long journey. When Sean saw

the crevasse he began to fight, throwing himself back against the crowd

that bore him forward, carrying him to the edge of the pit, and his feet

slid over the edge. He clawed with his fingers at the slippery edge of

the ice. He fought and he shouted as he fought for the dark drop sucked

at his legs.

Then he lay quietly and the crevasse had closed and he was alone. He

was tired, wasted and terribly tired. He closed his eyes and the pain

came back to him, throbbing softly in his leg.

He opened his eyes and he saw Katrina's face. She was pale and her eyes

were big and heavily underscored in blue. He tried to lift his hand to

touch her face but he couldn't move.

Katrina, he said. He saw her eyes go green with surprise and happiness.

You've come back. Oh, thank God. You've come back. Sean rolled his

head and looked at the canvas of the wagon tent.

How long? he asked. His voice was a whisper. Five days. Don't talk,

please, don't talk.

Sean closed his eyes. He was very tired so he slept.

Katrina washed him when he woke. Mbejane helped her lift and turn him,

his big pink-palmed hands very gentle as he handled the leg. They

washed the smell of fever off him and changed the dressings. Sean

watched Katrina as she worked and every time she looked up they smiled

at each other. Once he used a little of his strength to ask Mbejane,

Where were you when I needed you? I slept in the sun, Nkosi, like -an

old woman, Mbejane half-laughed, half-apologized. Katrina brought him

food and when he smelt it he was hungry. He ate it all and then he

slept Mbejane built a shelter with open sides and a roof of thatch. He

sited it in the shade on the bank of the Sabi.

Then he made a bed of poles and laced leather thongs.

They carried Sean from the wagon, Katrina fussing around them until they

had laid him in the shelter. Katrina went back to the wagon for pillows

and when she returned she found Thief and Sean settling down

comfortably. Sean, get that monster out of there, those blankets have

just been washed. Thief flattened his body and hid his head in Sean's

armpit.

It's all right, he's quite clean, Sean protected him. He smells. He

does not. Sean sniffed at Thief. Well, not much anyway! You two! She

put the pillows under Sean's head and went round to his leg. How does

it feel? It's fine, said Sean. Thief inched himself up the bed until

he reached the pillows.

In the slow slide of days Sean's body healed and the well of his

strength filled. The moving air under the shelter dried the scabs off

his chest and leg, but there would be scars. In the morning, after

breakfast, Sean held court from His couch. Katrina sat on the end of

the bed and his servants squatted around him. First they talked over

domestic matters, the health of the oxen, mentioning them by name,

discussing their eyes, hooves and stomachs. There was a tear in the

canvas of one wagon.

The single remaining bitch was in season, was Thief fit enough for the

job yet? There was meat to kill perhaps the Nkosikaze would take the

rifle later today.

Mubi had caught four barbel of medium size in his fish trap, and here

the talk turned to the bush around them.

A lion had killed a buffalo below the first bend in the river, there you

could see the vultures. During the night a herd of cow elephant had

drunk a mile upstream. Each item was considered by the meeting.

Everyone felt free to comment or argue against any view which conflicted

with his own. When everything had been said Sean gave them their tasks

for the day and sent them away. Then he and Katrina could be alone.

From the shelter they could see the full sweep of the river, with the

crocodiles lying on the white sandbars and the kingfishers plopping into

the shallows. They sat close to each other and they talked of the farm

they would have. Sean would grow grapes and breed horses and Katrina

would keep chickens. By the next rainy season they would have filled

all the wagons; one more trip after that and they would have enough to

buy the farm.

Katrina kept him in bed long after he was strong enough to leave it. She

mothered him and he loved it. Shamelessly, in the fashion of the male,

he accepted her attentions, and even exaggerated his injuries a little.

Finally but reluctantly Katrina let him up. He stayed in camp a week

more, until his legs stopped wobbling, then one evening he took his

rifle and went with Mhejane to shoot fresh meat. They went slowly, Sean

favouring his leg and he shot a young eland not far from the laager.

Sean sat against a Hisasa tree and smoked a cheroot while Mbejane went

back to fetch servants to carry the meat. Sean watched them butcher the

carcass; there were slabs of white fat on the meat. They slung it on

poles and carried it between them, two men to a pole, and when they got

back to camp Sean found Katrina in one of her inscrutable moods. When

he talked to her at supper she answered him from far away and afterwards

by the fire she sat detached from him. She was very lovely and Sean was

puzzled and a little resentful. At last he stood up. It's time for

bed, I'll see you to your wagon. You go. I'll sit a little longer.

Sean hesitated. Is there something wrong? Have I done something wrong?

No! she said quickly. No. I'm all right. You go to bed.

He kissed her cheek. If you need me I'll be close. Goodnight, sleep

sweet!

He straightened up. Come on, Thief, he said. Time for bed. Leave

Thief with me, please. Katrina caught the skin at the back of the dog's

neck and remained him. Why? I just feel like company. Then I'll stay

as well, Sean moved to sit down again. No, you go to bed. She sounded

desperate and Sean looked hard at her. Are you sure you're all rightV

Yes, please go. He went to his wagon and looked back at her. She was

sitting very straight, holding the dog. He climbed into the wagon. The

lamp was lit and he stopped in surprise when he saw his cot. There were

sheets on it, not just the rough blankets. He ran his hand over the

smooth fabric; it was crisp from new ironing. He sat on the cot and

pulled off his boots. He undid his shirt and threw it onto the chest,

then he lay back and looked up at the lamp. There's something bloody

funny going on here, he said. Sean! her voice just outside the wagon.

Sean jumped up and opened the flap. Can I come in? Yes, of course. He

gave her his hand and lifted her into the wagon. He looked at her face.

She was frightened.

There is something wrong, he said. No, don't touch me. There's

something I've got to tell you. Sit down on the cot Sean watched her

face. He was worried. I thought I loved you when I came away with you.