It clatter on the hard earth. He walked back to his wagon and took a

blanket off Duff's cot. He came back and wrapped Duff in it, averting

his eyes from the mutilated head. He carried him to the shelter and

laid him on the bed. The blood soaked through the blanket, spreading on

the cloth, like ink spilled on blotting-paper. Sean sank down on the

chair beside the bed.

Outside the darkness gathered and became complete.

Once in the night a hyena came and snuffled at the blood outside on the

earth, then it moved away. There was a pride of lions hunting in the

bush beyond the waterhole; they killed two hours before dawn and Sean

sat in the darkness and listened to their jubilant roaring.

In the morning, Sean stood up stiffly from his chair and went down to

the wagons. Mbejane was waiting beside the fire in the laager.

Where are the others? Sean asked.

Mbejane stood up. They wait where you sent them. I came alone, knowing

you would need me. Yes, said Sean. Get two axes from the wagon. They

gathered wood, a mountain of dry wood, and packed it around Duff's bed,

then Sean put fire to it.

Mbejane saddled a horse for Sean and he mounted up and looked down at

the Zulu. Bring the wagons on to the next waterhole. I will meet you

there. Sean rode out of the laager. He looked back only once and saw

that the breeze had spread the smoke from the pyre in a mile long smudge

across the tops of the thorn trees.

Like a bag of pus at the root of an infected tooth the guilt and grief

rotted in Sean's mind. His guilt was doubleedged. He had betrayed

Duff's trust, and he had lacked the courage to make the betrayal

worthwhile. He had waited too long. He should have done it at the

beginning, cleanly and quickly, or he should not have done it at all.

He longed with every fibre of his body to be given the chance to do it

again, but this time the right way. He would gladly have lived once

more through all that horror to clear his conscience and clean the stain

from the memory of their friendship.

His grief was a thing of emptiness, an aching void, so that he was lost

In it. Where before there had been Duff's laughter, his twisted grin

and his infectious zest there was now only a grey nothingness. No

glimmer of sun penetrated it and there were no solid shapes in it.

The next waterhole was shallow soup in the centre of a flat expanse of

dry mud the size of a polo field. The mud was cracked in an irregular

chequered pattern forming small brickettes, each the size of a hand. A

man could have jumped across the water without wetting his feet.

Scattered thickly round its circumference were the droppings of the

animals that had drunk there. Back and forth across its surface,

changing direction as the wind veered, a few loose feathers sailed. The

water was brackish and dirty. It was a bad camp. On the third day

Mbejane went to Sean's wagon. Sean lay in his cot. He had not changed

his clothes since leaving Duff. His beard was beginning, , to mat,

sticky with sweat for it was hot as an oven under the wagon canvas.

Nkosi, will you come and look at the water. I do not think we should

stay here What is wrong with it? Sean asked without interest. It is

dirty, I think we should go on towards the big river. Do whatever you

think is right. Sean rolled away from him, his face towards the side of

the wagon.

So Mbejane took the wagon-train down towards the Limpopo. It was two

days later that they found the ribbon of dark green trees that lined the

banks. Sean stayed in his cot throughout the trek, jolting over the

rough ground, sweating in the heat but oblivious to all discomfort.

Mbejane put the wagons into laager on the bank above the river-bed, then

he and all the other servants waited for Sean to come to life again.

Their talk round the fire at nights was baited with worry and they

looked often towards Sean's living wagon, where it stood unlit by

lantem, dark as the mood of the man that lay within.

Like a bear coming out of its cave at the end of winter, Sean came out

of the wagon at last. His clothes were filthy. The dogs hurried to

meet him, crowding round his knees, begging for attention and he did not

notice them.