It. He laid the stock of the gun on the rock, aimed back down the hill

and traversed the barrels left and right to make sure his field of fire

was clear. He iMAgined the bushbuck running in his sights and he felt

excitement shiver along his forearms, across his shoulders and up the

back of his neck. I won't lead on him, he'll be moving fairly slowly,

trotting most probably. I'll go straight at his shoulders, he

whispered.

He opened the gun, took the two cartridges out of his shirt pocket, slid

them into the breeches and snapped the gun closed. It took all the

strength of both his hands to pull back the big fancy hammers, but he

managed it and the gun was double-loaded and cocked. He laid it on the

rock in front of him again and stared down the slope. On his left the

gulley was a dark-green smear on the hillside, directly below him was

open grass where the bushbuck would cross. He pushed impatiently at the

hair on his forehead: it was damp with sweat and stayed up out of his

eyes.

The minutes drifted by.

rWhat the hell is Garry doing? He's so stupid sometimes! Sean muttered

and almost in answer he heard Garrick shout below him. It was a small

sound, far down the slope and muffled by the bush. Tinker barked once

without enthusiasm; he was also Sulking, he didn't like the chain. Sean

waited with his forefinger on one trigger, staring down at the edge of

the bush. Garrick shouted again, and the bushbuck broke from cover.

it came fast into the open with its nose up and its long horns held flat

against its back. Sean moved his body sideways swinging the gun with

its run, riding the pip of the foresight on its black shoulder. He

fired the left barrel and the recoil threw him off balance; his ears

hummed with the shot and the burnt powder smoke blew back into his face.

He struggled to his feet still holding the gun. The bushbuck was down

in the grass, bleating like a lamb and kicking as it died. I got him,

screamed Sean. I got him first shot! Garry, Garry! I got him, I got

him!

Tinker came pelting out of the bush dragging Garry behind him by the

chain and, still screaming, Sean ran down to join them. A stone rolled

under his foot and he fell. The shotgun flew out of his hand and the

second barrel fired. The sound of the explosion was very loud.

When Sean scrambled onto his feet again Garrick was sitting in the grass

whimpering,-whimpering and staring at his leg. The blast of the shotgun

had smashed into it and churned the flesh below the knee into tatters,

bursting it open so the bone chips showed white in the wound and the

blood pumped dark and strong and thick as custard. I didn't mean it. .

. . Oh God, Garry, I didn't mean it. I slipped. Honest, I slipped.

Sean was staring at the leg also. There was no colour in his face, his

eyes were big and dark with horror. The blood pumped out onto the

grass.

Stop it bleeding! Sean, please stop it. Oh, it's sore Oh!

Sean, please stop itV Sean stumbled across to him. He wanted to vomit.

He unbuckled his belt and strapped it round the leg and the blood was

warm and sticky On his hands. He used his sheathed knife to twist the

belt tight. The pumping slowed and he twisted harder. Oh, Sean, it's

sore! It's sore. Garrick's face was waxy-white and he was starting to

shiver as the cold hand of shock closed on him. I'll get Joseph, Sean

stammered. We'll come back quickly as we can. Oh, God, I'm sorry! Sean

jumped up and ran. He fell, rolled to his feet and kept running.

They came within an hour. Sean was leading three of the Zulu servants.

Joseph, the cook, had brought a blanket. He wrapped Garrick and lifted

him and Garrick fainted as his leg swung loosely. As they started back

down the hill, Sean looked out across the flats: there was a little puff

of dust on the Lady-burg road. One Of the grooms was riding to fetch

Waite Courtney.

They were waiting on the veranda of the homestead when Waite Courtney,

came back to Theunis Kraal. Garrick was conscious again. He lay on the

couch: his face was white and the blood had soaked through the blanket.

There was blood on Joseph's uniform and blood had dried black on Sean's

hands. Waite Courtney ran up onto the veranda; he stooped over Garrick

and drew back the blanket. For a second he stood staring at the leg and

then very gently he covered it again.

Waite lifted Garrick and carried him down to the buggy.

Joseph went with him and they settled Garrick on the back seat. Joseph

held his body and Garrick's stepmother took the leg on her lap to stop