It was this conscious effort that was the cause of their failure, or

perhaps it is impossible to reach back down the years to a small boy.

There is always that reserve, that barrier between the adult and the

secret world of youth. Garrick laughed with them and they talked

together, but it was not the same as having Sean there. During the day

Ada had the running of a large household and there were fifteen thousand

acres of land and two thousand head of cattle that needed Waite's

attention. That was the loneliest time for Garrick. if it had not been

for the books, he . might not have been able to bear it. He read

everything that Ada brought to him: Stevenson, Swift, Defoe, Dickens and

even Shakespeare. Much of it he didn't understand, but he read hungrily

and the Opium Of the printed word helped him through the long days until

Sean came home each Friday.

When Sean came home it was like a big wind blowing through the house.

Doors slammed, dogs barked, servants scolded and feet clattered up and

down the passages. Most of the noise was Sean's, but not all of it.

There were Sean's followers: youngsters from his class at the village

school.

They accepted Sean's authority as willingly as did Garrick, and it was

not only Sean's fists that won this acceptance but also the laughter and

the sense of excitement that went with him. They came out to Theunis

Kraal in droves that summer, sometimes as many as three on one

bare-backed pony: sitting like a row of sparrows on a fence rail. They

came for the added attraction of Garry's stump.

Sean was very proud of it. That's where the doc sewed it up, pointing

to the row of stitch marks along the pink fold of scar tissue. Can I

touch it, man? Not too hard or it'll burst open.

Garrick had never received attention like this in his life before. He

beamed round the circle of solemn, wide-eyed faces. It feels funny,

sort of hot. Was it sore? How did he chop the bone, with an axe? No.

Sean was the only one in a position to answer technical questions of

this nature. With a saw. just like a piece of wood. He made the

motions with his open hand.

But even this fascinating subject couldn't hold them for long and

presently there would be a restlessness amongst them. Hey, Sean, Karl

and I know where there's a nest of squawkers, you wanta have a look? or

Let's go and catch frogs, and Garrick would cut in desperately.

You can have a look at my stamp collection if you like.

It's in the cupboard there. Now, we saw it last week. Let's go. This

was when Ada, who had been listening to the conversation through the

open kitchen door, brought in the food. Koeksusters fried in honey,

chocolate cakes with peppermint icing, watermelon konfyt and half a

dozen other delicacies.

She knew they wouldn't leave until it was finished and she knew also

that there'd be upset stomachs when it was, but that was preferable to

Garrick lying alone and listening to the others riding off into the

hills.

The weekends were short, gone in a breathless blur.

Another long week began for Garrick. There were eight of them, eight

dreary weeks before Doctor Van Rooyen agreed to let him sit out on the