Their faces were brown and battered-looking and now that the meal was-in its closing stages their usual reserve was gone and there was a tendency among them to talk all. at the same time and to perspire profusely. This was not entirely a consequence of the dozen bottles of good Cape Mossel that Waite had provided nor of the piles of food they had eaten, it was more than that. There was a sense of expectancy among them, an eagerness they were finding it difficult to suppress. Can I tell the servants to clear away, Waite? Ada asked from the end of the table. Yes, thank you, my dear. We'll have coffee in here, please. He stood up and fetched a box of cigars from the sideboard and carried it to each of his guests in turn. When the ends were cut and the tips were glowing, every man leaning back in his chair with a recharged gla.s.s and a cup of coffee in front of him, Ada slipped out of the room and Waite cleared his throat for silence. Gentlemen. They were all watching him. Last Tuesday I spent two hours with the Governor. We discussed the recent developments across the Tugela Waite lifted his gla.s.s and sipped at it, then held it by the stem and rolled it between his fingers as he went on. Two weeks ago the British Agent at the Zulu king's kraal was recalled. Recalled is perhaps the wrong word the king offered to smear him with honey, and tie him over an ant-hill, an offer that Her Britannic Majesty's Agent declined with thanks. Shortly thereafter he packed his bags and made for the border.

There was a small ruffle of laughter. Since then Cetewayo has collected all his herds which were grazing near the Tugela and driven them into the north; he has commanded a buffalo hunt for which he has decided he will need all his impis, twenty thousand spears. This hunt is to be held along the banks of the Tugela, where the last buffalo was seen ten years ago. Waite sipped at his gla.s.s, watching their faces. And he has ordered that all wounded game is to be followed across the border. There was a sigh then, a murmur from them. They all knew that this was the traditional Zulu declaration of war. So, man, what are we going to do about it. Must we sit here and wait for them to come and burn us out?

Erasmus leaned forward watching Waite.

Sir battle Frere met Cetewayo's Indunas a week ago.

He has given them an ultimatum. They have until January the eleventh to disband the impis and take the Queen s Agent back into Zululand. In the event that Cetewayo disregards the ultimatum, Lord Chelmsford is a punitive column of regulars and militia.

to command The force is being a.s.sembled now and will leave Pietermaritzburg within the next ten days. He is to cross the Tugela at Rorke's Drift and engage the impis before they break out. It is intended to end this constant threat to our border and break the Zulu nation for ever as a military power.

It's about bledy time, said Erasmus. His Excellency has gazetted me full colonel and ordered me to raise a commando from the Lady-burg district. I have promised him at least forty men fully armed, mounted and provisioned who will be ready to join Chelmsford at the Tugela. Unless any of you object I am appointing you gentlemen as my captains and I know I can rely upon you to help me make good my promise to His Excellency. Suddenly Waite dropped his stilted manner and grinned at them. You will collect your own pay. It will be in cattle, as usual. How far north has Cetewayo driven his herds? asked Tim Hope-Brown.

Not far enough, I'll warrant, cackled Stephen Erasmus. A toast, said Simon Rousseau jumping to his feet and holding up his gla.s.s. "I give you a toast: the Queen, Lord Chelmsford and the Royal Herds of Zululand. They all stood and drank it, and then suddenly embarra.s.sed by their display they sat down again, coughing awkwardly and shuffling their feet, All right, said Waite, let's get down to details. Steff, you'll be coming and your two eldest boys? Ja, three of us and my brother and his son. Put down five, Erasmus. Good. What about you Gunther? They began the planning. Men, horses and wagons were marshalled on paper; each of the captains was allotted a series of tasks. There was question, answer and argument that filled the hours before the guests left Theunis Kraal.

They rode in a bunch, trippling their horses, sitting slack and long-legged in the saddles, moving up the far slope along the road to Lady-burg. Waite and his sons stood on the front step and watched them go.

Garry tried tentatively for Waite's attention. Yes, boy? Waite kept his eyes on the group. Steff Erasmus turned in the saddle and waved his hat above his head, Waite waved back. Why do we have to fight them, Pa? 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, h.e.l.l 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. d.a.m.n 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. d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l, 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sed 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. h.e.l.lo, 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 it. She was not a pretty girl, her face was too broad and flat, but she had that rare skin that too seldom goes with red hair: creamy unfreckled purity.

Do you want to buy anything, Sean?

Sean placed the carbine back in the rack. Just looking he said. Are you working in the store now? Yes She dropped her eyes from Sean's scrutiny. It was a year since he'd last seen her. A lot can change in a year; she now had that within her blouse which proved she was no longer a child. Sean eyed it appreciatively and she glanced up and saw the direction of his eyes; the cream of her skin clouded red. She turned quickly towards the trays of fruit. would you like a peach? Thanks, said Sean and took one.

How's Anna? asked Audrey.

Why ask me? Sean frowned. You're her beau, aren't you? Who told you that! Sean's frown became a scowl. Everybody knows that. Well, everybody's wrong. Sean was irritated by the suggestion that he was one of Anna's possessions. I'm n.o.body's beau. Oh! Audrey was silent a moment, then, I suppose Anna will be at the dance tonightVMost probably. Sean bit into the furry golden peach and studied Audrey. Are you going, Strawberry Pie? No, Audrey answered wistfully. Pa won't let me.

How old was she? Sean made a quick calculation...

three years younger than he was. That made her sixteen.

Suddenly Sean was sorry she wouldn't be at the dance.

That's a pity, he said. We could have had some fun. Linking them together, with the plural we, Sean threw her into confusion again. She said the first words she could think of, Do you like the peach? It's from our orchard. I thought I recognized the flavour. Sean grinned and Audrey laughed. Her mouth was wide and friendly when she laughed. I knew you used to pinch them. Pa knew it was you. He used to say he'd set a man-trap in that hole in the hedge! didn't know he'd found that hole, we used to cover it up each time. Oh, yes, Audrey a.s.sured him, we knew about it all the time. It's still there. Some nights when I can't sleep I climb out of my bedroom window and go down through the orchard, through the hedge into the wattle plantation.

It's so dark and quiet in the plantation at night, scary, but I like it. You know something, Sean spoke thoughtfully. if you couldn't sleep tonight and came down to the hedge at ten o'clock, you might catch me pinching peaches again It took a few seconds for Audrey to realize what he had said. Then the colour flew up her face again and she tried to speak but no words came. She turned with a swirl of skirt and darted away among the shelves. Sean bit the last of the flesh off the peach pip and dropped it on the floor.

He was smiling as he walked across to join the others. h.e.l.l's teeth, Karl, how much longer are you going to be?

There were fifty or more wagons outspanned around the perimeter of the square but the centre was left open, and here the braaivleis pits were burning, the flames already sinking to form glowing beds. Trestle-tables stood in two lines near the fires and the women worked at them cutting meat and boerwors, b.u.t.tering bread, arranging platoons of pickle bottles, piling the food on trays and sweetening the evening with their voices and laughter.

In a level place a huge buck-sail was spread for the dancing and at each corner a lantern hung on a pole. The band was tuning with squeaks from the fiddles and preliminary asthma from the single concertina.

The men gathered in knots amongst the wagons or squatted beside the braaivleis pits, and here and there a jug pointed its base briefly at the sky. I don't like to be difficult, Waite, Petersen came across to where Waite was standing with his captains, but I see you've put Dennis in Gunther's troop. That's right. Waite offered him the jug and Petersen took it and wiped the neck with his sleeve. It's not you, Gunther, Petersen smiled at Gunther Niewehuisen, but I would be much happier if I could have Dennis in the same troop as myself. Keep an eye on him, you know.

They all looked at Waite to hear what he would say. None of the boys are riding with their fathers. We've purposely arranged it that way. Sorry, Dave. Why?

Waite Courtney looked away, over the wagons at the furious red sunset that hung above the escarpment. This isn't going to be a bushbuck shoot, Dave. You may find that you'll be called upon to make decisions that will be easier for you if you're not making them about your own son. There was a murmur of agreement and Steff Erasmus took his pipe out of his mout and spat into the fire.