If the Governor just sent somebody to talk to them, then we wouldn't

have to fight.

Waite glanced at him, frowning slightly.

Anything worth having is worth fighting for, Garry.

Cetewayo has raised twenty thousand spears to take this from us - Waite

swept his arm in a circle that took in the whole of Theunis Kraal. I

think it's worth fighting for, don't you, Sean? You bet, Sean nodded

eagerly. But couldn't we just make a treaty with them Gaarry persisted.

Another cross on a piece of paper. Waite spoke with fierce disdain.

They found one like that on Piet Retrieps body, hell of a lot of good it

did him Waite walked back into the house with his sons following him.

He lowered himself into his armchair, stretched his legs out in front of

him and smiled at Ada. Damn good lunch, dear. He clasped his hands

over his stomach, belched MY involuntarily and was immediately contrite.

I beg your pardon, it just slipped out.

Ada bent her head over her sewing to hide her smile. We've got a lot to

do in the next few days He turned his attention back to his sons. We'll

take one mule wagon and a pair of horses each. Now about ammunition. .

. But, Pa, couldn't we just -! Garry started, Shut up, said Waite, and

Garry subsided miserably into one of the other chairs.

I've been thinking, announced Sean. Not you as well, growled Waite.

Damn it to hell, here's your chance to win your own cattle and. . .

That's just what I've been thinking, Sean cut in.

Everybody will have more cattle than they know what to do with. The

prices will drop way down. They will at first, admitted Waite, but in a

year or two they'll climb back again. Shouldn't we sell now? Sell

everything except the bulls and breeding cows, then after the war we'll

be able to buy back at half the price. For a moment Waite sat stunned

and then slowly his expression changed. My God, I never thought of

that. And Pa, Sean was twisting his hands together in his enthusiasm,

we'll need more land. When we bring the herds back across the Tugela

there won't be enough grazing to go round.

Mr Pye has called the mortgages on Mount Sinai and Mahoba's Kloof. He's

not using the land.

Couldn't we lease them from him now before everybody starts looking for

grazing? We had a lot to do before you started thinking, said Waite

softly, but now we've really got to work. He searched his pockets,

found his pipe and while he filled it with tobacco he looked at Sean. He

tried to keep his face neutral but the pride kept showing.

You keep thinking like that and you'll be a richm an one day. Waite

could not know how true his prophecy would prove, the time was still

remote when Sean could drop the purchase price of Theunis Kraal across a

gaming table, and laugh at the loss.

The Commando was moving out on New Year's Day.

New Year's Eve was set down for a double celebration. Welcome 1879, and

God speed the Lady-burg Mounted Rifles. The whole district was coming

into town for the braaivleis and dancing that was being held in the

square.

Feast the warriors, - laugh, dance and sing, then form them up and march

them out to war.

Sean and Garry rode in early. Ada and Waite were to follow later in the

afternoon. It was one of those bright days of a Natal summer: no wind

and no clouds, the kind of day when the dust from a wagon hangs heavy in

the air. They crossed the Baboon Stroom and from the farther ridge

looked down across the town and saw the wagon dust on every road leading

into Lady-burg. Look at them come, said Sean; he screwed up his eyes

inst the glare and stared at the north road. That will be the Erasmus

wagon. Karl will be with them.

The wagons looked like beads on a string. That's the Petersens', said

Garry, or the Niewehuisens. Come on, shouted Sean, and slapped the free

end of his reins across his horse's neck. They galloped down the road.

The horses they rode were big glossy animals, with their manes cropped

like English hunters.

They passed a wagon. There were two girls sitting beside mama on the

box seat, the Petersen sisters. Dennis Petersen and his father were

riding ahead of the wagon.

Sean whooped as he rode past the wagon and the girls laughed and shouted

some that was lost in the wind. Come on, Dennis, howled Sean as he

swept past the two sedately trotting outriders. Dennis's horse reared

and then settled in to run, chasing Sean. Garry trailed them both.

They reached the cross roads, lying flat along their horses necks,

pumping the reins like jockeys. The Erasmus wagon was trundling down to

meet them. Karl, Sean called as he held his horse a little to stand in

the stirrups. Karl. Come on, man catch a wayo, Cetewayo!

They rode into Lady-burg in a bunch. They were all flush-faced and

laughing excited and happy at the prospect of dancing and killing.

The town was crowded, its streets congested with wagons and horses and

men and women and girls and dogs and servants. I've got to stop at

Pye's store, said Karl, come with me, it won't take long. They hitched

their horses and went into the store; Sean, Dennis and Karl walked

noisily and talked aloud. They were men, big sunburned raw-boned men,

muscled from hard work, but uncertain of the fact that they were men.

Therefore, walk with a swagger and laugh too loud, swear when Pa isn't

listening and no one will know you have your doubts.

What are you going to buy, Karl? Boots. That'll take all day, you'll

have to try them on. We'll miss half the fun. There'll be nothing

doing for another couple hours, protested Karl. Wait for me, you chaps.

Karl sitting on the counter, trying boots on his large feet, was not a

spectacle that could hold Sean's interest for long. He drifted away

amongst the piles of merchandise that cluttered Pye's store. There were

stacks of pick handles, piles of blankets, bins of sugar and salt and

flour, shelves of groceries and clothing overcoats and women's dresses

and hurricane-lamps and saddles hinging from the roof, and all of it was

permeated by the peculiar smell of a general dealer's store: a mixture

of paraffin, soap and new cloth.

Pigeon to its coop, iron to magnet. . . . Sean's feet led him to the

rack of rifles against the far wall of the room.

He lifted down one of the Lee Metford carbines and worked the action; he

stroked the wood with his fingertips, then he weighed it in his hands to

feel the balance and finally brought it up to his shoulder. Hello,

Sean. His ritual interrupted, Sean looked up at the shy voice. It's

Strawberry Pie, he said smiling. How's school? I've left school now. I

left last term Audrey Pye had the family colouring but with a subtle

difference, instead of carrot her hair was smoked copper with glints in