In the grass struggling feebly with the eagle crouched on top of it.

For a second longer Sean sat, dazed with the speed at which it had

happened. Then hatred came on him. It came with a violence that

twisted his stomach. He hit his horse with his heels and it jumped

forward. He drove it at the eagle and as he rode he screamed at it, a

high-pitched formless Sound, an animal expression of hate.

The eagle turned its head, looking at him sideways with one eye. it

opened its great yellow beak and answered his scream, then it loosed its

claws from the calf and launched itself into the air. its wings flogged

heavily and it moved low along the ground, gaining speed, lifting,

drawing away from Sean.

Sean pulled his rifle from the scabbard and hauled his horse back onto

its haunches. He threw himself out of the saddle and levered open the

breech of the rifle.

The eagle was fifty yards ahead of him rising fast now.

Sean slipped a cartridge into the breech, closed it and brought the

rifle up in one continuous movement.

it was a difficult shot. Moving away from him and rising, the beat of

its wings jerking its body. Sean fired.

The rifle jumped back into his shoulder and the gunsmoke whipped away on

the wind, so he could watch the bullet connect.

The eagle collapsed in the air. It burst like a pillow in a puff of

feathers and fell with its six-feet-long wings fluttering limply.

Before it hit the ground Sean was running.

It was dead when he reached it, but he reversed his rifle: holding it by

the muzzle, he swung the butt down from above his head onto its body. At

the third blow the butt of his rifle broke off, but he kept on hitting.

He was sobbing with fury.

When he stopped and stood panting the sweat was running down his face

and his body was trembling. The eagle was a squashy mess of broken

flesh and feathers.

The calf was still alive. The rifle was jammed. Sean knelt beside it

with tears of anger burning his eyes and killed it with his

hunting-knife.

So strong was this new feeling that Sean could hate even Garrick. He

did not hate for long, though. Sean's anger and his hatred were quick

things, with flames like those of a fire in dry grass: hot and high but

soon burnt out and afterwardsihe ashes dead with no smouldering.

Waite was away when it happened. For three consecutive years Waite

Courtney had been nominated for the chairmanship of the Beef Growers

Association and each time he had stood down. He was human enough to

want the prestige the office carried with it, but he was also sensible

to the fact that his farm would suffer from his frequent absences. Sean

and Garrick had been working for two years when the annual election of

office bearers came around again.

The night before Waite left for the meeting in Pietermaritzburg he spoke

to Ada. I had a letter from Bernard last week, my dear, he was standing

before the mirror in their bedroom trimming his beard. They insist that

I stand for the chair this year. Very wise of them, said Ada. They'd

have the best men if you did. Waite frowned with concentration as he

snipped at his whiskers. She believed so unquestioningly in him that he

seldom doubted himself. Now looking at his face in the mirror he

wondered how much of his success was owed to Ada's backing. You can do

it, Waite. Not a challenge, not a question, but a calm statement of

fact. When she said it he believed it.

He laid the scissors down on the chest of drawers and turned to her. She

sat cross-legged on the bed in a white nightgown, her hair was down in a

dark mass around her shoulders. I think Sean can look after things

here, she said, and then quickly, and of course Garry. Sean's learning

fast, Waite agreed. Are you going to take the job?

Waite hesitated. yes, he nodded and Ada smiled.

Come here, she held out her hands to him.

Sean drove Waite and Ada to the station at Lady-burg: at the last minute

Waite had insisted that she go with him, for he wanted her to be there

to share it with him.

Sean put their luggage into the coach and waited while they talked with

the small group of cattlemen who were going up to the meeting. The

whistle blew and the travellers scattered to their compartments. Ada

kissed Sean and climbed up. Waite stayed a second longer on the

platform. Sean, if you need any help go across to Mr Erasmus at Lion

Kop. I'll be back on Thursday. I won't need any help, Pa. Waite's

mouth hardened. Then you must be God, he's the only one who never needs

help, Waite said harshly. Don't be a bloody fool, if you run into

trouble ask Erasmus. He climbed up after Ada. The train jerked,

gathered speed and ran out towards the escarpment. Sean watched it

dwindle, then he walked back to the buggy. He was master of Theunis

Kraal and he liked the feeling. The small crowd on the platform was

dispersing and out of it came Anna. Hello, Sean. She had on a green

cotton dress that was faded with washing, her feet were bare. She

smiled with her small white teeth and watched his face. Hello, Anna.

Aren't you going up to Pietermaritzburg? No, I've got to look after the

farm , oh?

They waited in silence, uncomfortable before so many people. Sean

coughed and scratched the side of his nose. Anna, come on. We've got

to get home. One of her brothers called from in front of the ticket

office and Anna leaned towards Sean.

Will I see you on Sunday? she whispered.