Victoria and her family and to the King of Portugal and his family. This

made them thirsty so they drank to absent friends, then to each other.

The Commandant and Sean swore a mutual oath of friendship and loyalty

and this made the Commandant very sad, he cried and Sean patted his

shoulder and offered to dance the Dashing White Sergeant for him, The

Commandant said that he would esteem it as a very great honour and

furthermore he would be delighted. He himself did not know this dance

but perhaps Sean would instruct him. They danced on the table. The

Commandant was doing very well until in his enthusiasm he misjudged the

size of the table.

Sean helped the junior officers put him to bed and in the morning Sean,

Father Alphonso and One-Eye started back towards the mountains.

Sean was impatient of any delay now; he wanted to get back to Katrina.

Father Alphonso's English was on a par with Sean's Portuguese. This

made conversation difficult, so Alphonso solved the problem by doing all

the talking.

At first Sean listened but when he decided that the good father was

trying to convert him he no longer bothered.

Alphonso did not seem put out, he just went on talking and clinging to

the horse with both hands while his cassock flapped about his legs and

his face sweated in the shade of his wide-brimmed hat. One-Eye followed

them like an ancient stork.

It took them two days back to One-Eye's village and their entry was a

triumphal procession. Father Alphonso's face lit up when he saw so many

prospective converts.

Sean could see him mentally rubbing Ins hands together, and he decided

to keep going before Alphonso forgot the main object of the exrpedition.

He gave One-Eye a hunting-knife in payment for his services. One-Eye

sat down under the big tree in the centre of the village, his own thin

legs no longer able to support his weight and the knife clutched to his

chest.

lubi, you've had enough of that. . . come on now! Sean had not

dismounted and was restlessly waiting for Mubi to say his farewells to

three of the village girls.

Mubi had displayed traditional Zulu taste, all three of them were

big-breasted, big-bottomed and young. They were also crying. Come on,

Mubi . . . what's the trouble? Nkosi, they believe that I have taken

them for my wives. What made them think that? Nkosi, I do not know

Mubi broke the armhold that the PlumPest and Youngest had around his

neck, he snatched up his spears and fled. Sean and Alphonso galloped

after him.

The villagers shouted farewells and Sean looked back and saw One-Eye

still sitting at the base of the big tree.

The pace which Sean set was at last telling on Alphonso. His verbal

spring-tides slackened and he showed a measure of reluctance to let his

backside touch the saddle; he rode crouched forward on his horse's neck

with his buttocks in the air. They crossed the mountains and went down

the other side; the ground levelled out into the Sabi Valley and they

rode into the forest. On the ninth day out from Nova Sofala they

reached the Sabi river. It was late afternoon. Flocks of guinea-fowl

were drinking in the river-bed, they went up in a blue haze of whirling

wings, as Sean led his Party down the bank.

While the horses watered Sean spoke with Mubi. Do you recognize this

part of the river? Yes, Nkosi, we are two hours march upstream from the

wagons . . . we held too far to the north coming through the forest

Sean looked at the sun, it was on the tree-tops. Half an hour's light

left . . . and there's no moon tonight. We could wait until morning

Mubi suggested hopefully. Sean ignored him and motioned to Alphonso to

mount up. Alphonso was prepared to debate the advisability of moving

on. Sean took a handful of his cassock and helped him into the saddle.