a fanciful landscape. Zouga could only believe it was a fad amongst the colony's fashionable set.
'They say my lions look like English sheepdogs. 'Harkness glowered at them; 'What do you think, Ballantyne? 'Perhaps, Zouga started, then saw the old man's expression change. 'But tremendously ferocious sheep dogs! ' he added swiftly, and Harkness laughed out loud for the first time. By God, you'll do! He shook his head as he half-filled the tumblers with the dark brown local brandy, the fearsome 'Cape Smoke', and brought one glass to Zouga. I like a man who speaks his mind. Rot all hypocrites.'
He raised his own glass in a toast. 'Especially hypocritical preachers who don't give a damn for God, for truth or for their fellow men.'
Zouga fancied that he recognized the description, but raised his glass. 'Rot them! he agreed, and managed to suppress a gasp as the liquor exploded in his throat and sizzled behind his eyes. Good, he said hoarsely, and Harkness wiped his silver mustache, left and right, with his thumb before he demanded, Why have you come? 'I want to find my father, and I think you may be able to tell me where to search. 'Find him? ' fulminated the old man. 'We should all be extremely grateful he is lost, and pray each day that he remains that way. 'I understand how you feel, sir, Zouga nodded. 'I read the book that was published after the Zambezi expedition.'
Harkness had accompanied Fuller Ballantyne on that ill-fated venture, acting as second-in-command, expedition manager and recording artist. He had been caught up in the squabbling and blame-fixing that had marred the enterprise from the beginning. Fuller Ballantyne had dismissed him, accusing him of theft of the expedition stores, trading on his own account, artistic incompetence, neglecting his duties to hunt for ivory, go and total ignorance of the countryside and its trails, of the tribes and their customs and had included these accusations in his account of the expedition, implying that the blame for the expedition's failure could be laid on Thomas Harkness' uneven shoulders.
Now even mention of that book brought the colour to the sun-raddled face and made the white whiskers twitch. I crossed the Limpopo for the first time in the year that Fuller Ballantyne was born. I drew the map that he used to reach Lake Ngami. ' Harkness stopped and made a dismissive gesture. 'I might as well try and reason with the baboons barking from the tops of the kopjes Then he peered more closely at Zouga. What do you know about Fuller? Since he sent you home to the old country, how often have you seen him?
How much time have you spent in his company? 'He came home once. 'How much time did he spend with you and your mother? 'Some months, but he was always in Uncle William's study writing, or he was up at London, . Oxford or Birmingham to lecture. 'But you, nevertheless, conceived a burning filial love and duty for the sainted and celebrated father?
Zouga shook his head. 'I hated him, he said quietly. I could hardly bear the days until he went away again Harkness tilted his head on one side, surprised, speechless for a moment, and Zouga drank the last few drops of liquor in the glass. I never told anybody that before. ' He seemed puzzled himself. 'I hardly even admitted it to myself. I hated him for what he did to us, to me and my sister, but especially to my mother.'
Harkness took the empty tumbler from his fingers, refilled it and handed it back. He spoke quietly. I also will tell you something that I have never told another man. I met your mother at Kurutnan, my God, so long ago. She was sixteen or seventeen and I was nearly forty. She was so pretty, so shy and yet so filled with a special quality of joy. I asked her to marry me.
The only woman I ever asked. ' Harkness stopped himself, turned away to his painting, and peered at it. Damned sheep dogs! ' he snapped, and then without turning back to face Zouga, 'So why do you want to find your father? Why have you come out to Africa? 'Two reasons, Zouga told him. 'Both good. To make my own reputation and my own fortune.'
Harkness swivelled to face him. 'Dan-m me, but you can be direct. ' There was a tinge of respect in his expression now. 'How do you plan to achieve those very desirable ends? ' Zouga explained swiftly, the newspaper sponsorship, that of the Society for the Extinction of the Slave Trade. You'll find much grist for your mill, ' Harkness interjected. 'The coast is still rife with the trade, despite what you'll hear in London town. 'I am also an agent for the Worshipful Company of London Merchants Trading into Africa, but I have my own goods to trade, and 5,000 cartridges for my Sharps rifle.'
Harkness wandered across the dim room and stopped before one of the gigantic elephant tusks propped against the far wall. It was so old and heavy that there was very little taper from root to tip, the point worn blunt and rounded. One third of its length was smooth and a clear lovely butter yellow colour, where it had been buried in the jaw of the beast, the rest of it was stained dark with % vegetable juices and scarred from the battles and foragings of sixty years. This one weighs one hundred and sixty pounds, its value in London is six shillings a pound. ' He slapped it with his open palm. 'There are still bulls like that out there, thousands of them. But take a tip from an old dog forget your fancy Sharps, and use one of the ten-bore elephant guns. They throw a ball that weighs a quarter of a pound, and though they kick like the devil himself, they drive better than any of these newfangled rifles.'
There was a lightness in the worn old features, a sparkle in the dark eyes. 'Another tip, get in close. Forty paces at the outside, and go for the heart. Forget what you'll hear about the brain shot, go for the heart -' He broke off suddenly and waggled his head, grinning ruefully. 'By God, but it's enough to make a man want to be young again! ' He came back and studied Zouga directly, and a thought occurred to him with a suddenness that struck him like a physical blow, taking him so by surprise that he almost spoke it aloud. If Helen had given me a different answer, you could be my son. ' But he held back the words, and asked instead:How can I help you, then? 'You can tell me where I can start to search for Fuller Ballantyne.'
Harkness threw up his hands, palms uppermost. 'It's a vast land, so big that you could travel across it for a lifetime. 'That's why I have come to you.'
Harkness went to the long table of yellow Cape deal that ran nearly the fall length of the room and with the twisted arm swept a clear space amongst the books and papers and paint pots. Bring a chair, he instructed, and when they sat facing each other across the cleared space, he recharged both their glasses and placed what remained in the bottle between them. Where did Fuller Ballantyne go? ' Harkness asked, and took a silver tress from the thick beard and began to twist it around his forefinger. The finger was long and bony and covered with the thick ridges of ancient scar tissue where the recoil of overheated or overcharged firearms had driven the trigger guard to the bone. Where did Fuller Ballantyne go?
' he repeated, but Zouga realized the question was rhetorical, and he said nothing. After the Zambezi expedition, his fortune was exhausted, his reputation all but destroyed, and to a man like Fuller Ballantyne that was unbearable. His entire life had been an endless hunt for glory. No risk, no sacrifice was too great, his own or others. He would steal and lie and, even kill for it.'
Zouga looked up sharply, challenging. Kill, ' Harkness nodded.
'Anybody who stood in his way. I have seen him, but that is another tale. Now we want to know where he went.'
Harkness stretched out and selected a roll of parchment from the cluttered table-top, checked it quickly and
