It was a man's room, with loose dog-hairs on the Ieopard-skin rugs, and

the presence of the man strongly there - it even smelled of Waite. It

was as distinctively his as the tweed coat and Terai hat that hung

behind the door.

Next to where Sean sat the cabinet was open and a bottle of brandy stood

on top of it. Sean had a goblet in his hand.

You're drinking Pa's brandy, Garrick accused. It's not bad Sean lifted

the glass and inspected the liquid, he took a careful sip and held it in

his mouth, preparing himself to swallow. Garrick watched him with awe

and Sean tried not to blink as it went down his throat. Would you like

some? Garrick shook his head and the fumes came up Sean's nose and his

eyes ran.

Pa will kill you! said Garrick. Sit down, ordered Sean, his voice

husky from the brandy. I want to work out a plan for the time Pa's

away. Garrick advanced on the armchair, but before he reached it he

changed his mind, the associations were too painful. He went to the

sofa instead and sat on the edge. Tomorrow, Sean held up one finger,

we'll dip all the cattle in the home section. I've told Zama to start

bringing them early, you did do the tanks, didn't you?

Garrick nodded and Sean went on. On Saturday Sean held up his second

finger, we'll burn fire breaks along the top of the escarpment. The

grass is dry as hell up there. You take one gang and start near the

falls, I'll ride down to the other end, near Fredericks Kloof.

On Sunday. . . Sean said and then paused. On Sunday Anna. I want to

go to church on Sunday, said Garrick quickly. That's fine, agreed Sean.

You go to church. Are you going to come? No, said Sean.

Garrick looked down at the leopard-skin rugs that covered the floor, he

didn't try to persuade Sean for Anna would be at the service. Perhaps

afterwards, if Sean wasn't there to distract her, he could drive her

home in the buggy. He started a day dream and wasn't listening as Sean

went on talking.

In the morning it was full daylight by the time Sean reached the dip

tank. He pushed a small herd of stragglers before him and they came out

through the trees and stirrup high grass into the wide area of trampled

earth around the tank. Garrick had started running cattle through the

dip and there were about ten head already in the draining kraal at the

far end, standing wet and miserable, their bodies dark with dip.

Sean drove his herd through the gates of the entrance kraal into the

solid pack of brown bodies that were already there. N'duti slid the

bars of the gate back into place to hold them. I see you, Nkosi. I see

you, N'duti. Plenty of work today! Plenty, agreed N'duti, always

plenty of work. Sean rode around the kraal and tied his horse beneath

one of the trees, then walked across to the tank. Garrick was standing

by the parapet and leaning against one of the columns that supported the

roof. Hello, Garry, how's it going? Fine. Sean leaned over the parapet

next to Garry. The tank was twenty feet long and eight wide, the

surface of the liquid was below ground level. Around the tank was a low

wall and over it a roof of thatch to prevent rain diluting the contents.

The herdboys drov, 2 the cattle up to the edge and each beast hesitated

on the brink. Elyapi, Elyapi, screamed the herdboys and the push of

bodies behind it forced it to jump. If one was stubborn, Zama leaned

over the railing of the kraal, grabbed its tail and bit it.

Each beast jumped with its nose held high and its forefeet gathered up

under its chest; it disappeared completely under the oil black surface

and came up again swimming frantically along the tank until its hooves

touched the Sloping bottom at the far end and it could lumber up into

the draining kraal.

Keep them moving, Zama, shouted Sean.

Zama grinned at him and bit with big white teeth into a reluctant tail.

The ox was a heavy animal and it splashed a drop up onto Sean's cheek as

he leaned over the wall. Sean did

not bother to wipe it off, he went on watching. Well, if we don't get

top prices for this lot at the next sale then the buyers don't know good

cattle, he said to Garry.

They're all right, agreed Garry. All right? They're the fattest oxen