It. Christmas came and Katrina baked a cake. Sean gave her a kaross of

monkey skins that Mbejane had worked on in secret. Katrina gave Sean

handsewn shirts, each with his initials embroidered on the top pocket,

and she relaxed the rules a fraction.

Then when the new year had begun and Sean hadn't killed an elephant in

six weeks, Mbejane headed a deputation from the gunboys. The question

he had to ask, though tactfully disguised, was simply, Did we come here

to hunt, or what? They broke camp and moved north again and the strain

was showing on Sean at last. He tried to sweat it out by long days of

hunting but this didn't help for conditions were so bad that they added

to his irritability. The grass in most places was higher than a mounted

man's head, its sharp edges cut as he passed through it. But the grass

seeds were the worst: half an inch long and barbed like an arrow they

worked their way quickly through clothing and into the skin. in the

humid heat the small wounds they made festered within hours. Then there

were the flies. Hippo-flies, greenheaded flies, sand-flies all with one

thing in common they stung. The soft skin behind the ears was their

favourite place. They'd creep upon him, settle so lightlyy he wouldn't

feel it, then, ping with the red-hot needle. Always wet, sometimes with

sweat, other times with rain, Sean would close with a herd of elephant.

He would hear them moving in the long grass around him and see the white

canopy of egrets fluttering over them, but it was seldom he could get a

shot at them. If he did he had to stand in the centre of a storm of

blundering bodies. Often they would be following a herd, almost upon

them, when Sean would lose interest and they'd all go back to camp. He

couldn't keep away.

He was miserable, his servants were miserable, and Katrina was happy as

a bird at daybreak. She had a man, she was mistress of a household

which she ran with confidence and, because her senses were not yet as

seasoned as Sean's, she was physically content. Even with Sean's strict

adherence to the rules, their evenings in her wagon would end for her

with a sigh and a shudder and she would go dreamy-eyed to bed and leave

Sean with a burning devil inside of him. The only person Sean could

complain to was Thief. He would he with his snout buried in Sean's

armpit, with at least his share of the blankets over him, and listen

quietly.

The Zulus could see what the trouble was but they didn't understand it.

They didn't discuss it, of course, but if one of them spread his hands

expressively or coughed in a certain way the others knew what he meant.

Mbejane came closest to actually putting it into words. Sean had just

thrown a tantrum. It was a matter of a lost axe and who was

responsible. Sean lined them up and expressed

doubts as to their ancestry, present worth and future prospects , then

he stormed off to his wagon. There was a long silence and Mubi offered

his snuff-box to Mbejane.

Mbejane took a pinch and said, It's a stupid stallion that doesn't know

how to kick down a fence! It is true, it is true, they agreed, and

there the matter rested.

A week later they reached the Sabi river. The mountains on the far side

were blue-grey with distance and the river was full, brown and full.

The next morning was fresh and cool from the night's rain. The camp

smelt of wood-smoke, cattle and wild mimosa. From one of the ostrich

eggs that Mbejane had found the day before, Katrina made an omelette the

size of a soup-plate. it was flavoured with nutmeg and chunks .

of mushroom, yellow and rich. Afterwards there were scones and wild

honey, coffee and a cheroot for Sean.

Are you going out today? Katrina asked. Uh huh. oh! Don't you want

me to? You haven't stayed in camp for a week. Don't you want me to go?

she stood up quickly and started clearing the table. Anyway you won't

find any elephant you haven't found anything for ages. Do you want me

to stay? It's such a lovely day. She signed to Kandhla to take the

plates away.

, If you want me to stay, ask me properly. We could look for mushrooms.

Say it, said Sean. All right then, please!