'She's my mother.' 'She signed away all claim to that title.' 'I want to see her - she wants to see me.' 'We'll talk about it some other time.' 'I want to talk about it now. Why won't you let me go?' 'Your mother did things which put her beyond the pale. She would exert an influence of evil upon you.' 'Nobody influences me - unless I want them to,' she said. 'And what did mother do anyway? Nobody has ever explained that.' 'She committed an act of calculated treachery. She betrayed us all - her husband, her father, her family, her children and her country.' 'I don't believe it.' Isabella shook her head. 'Mater was always so concerned for everybody.' 'I cannot, and will not, give you all the details, Bella. Just believe me when I tell you that if I had not spirited her out of the country, she would have stood trial as an accessory to the murder of her own father and for the crime of high treason.' They rode up to the stables in silence, but as they entered the yard and dismounted, IsabelIa said quietly, 'She should have the chance to explain it to me herself.' 'I can forbid you to go, Bella, you are still a minor. But you know I won't do that. I'll simply ask you not to go to London to see that woman.' 'I'm sorry, Daddy. Mickey is going, and I am going with him.' She saw his expression, and went to him quickly. 'Please try to understand. I love you, but I love her too. I have to go.' They drove up to the house in the Jaguar without speaking again, but as he parked the car and switched off the ignition, Shasa asked, 'When?' 'We haven't decided yet.' 'I tell you what. We'll go together some time and perhaps we could go on to Switzerland for a week's skiing or Italy to do some sight-seeing. We might even stop in Paris to get you a new frock.
Lord knows, you are short of clothes.' 'My dear father, you are a crafty old dog, aren't you?' They were still laughing as they went arm in arm up the front steps of Weltevreden. Centaine came out of her study door across the lobby. When she saw them she snatched the gold-rimmed reading glasses off her nose - she hated even the family to see her wearing them - and she demanded, 'What are you two so merry about? Bella is wearig her triumphant expression. What has she talked you into this time Centainedidn't wait for an answer, but pointed to the huge banana-shaped package almost ten foot long, wrapped in thick layers of brown hessian, that lay in the middle of the chequered marble floor.
'Shasa, this arrived for you this morning and it has been cluttering up the house all day. Please get rid of it, whatever it is.' Centaine had lived on alone at Rhodes Hill for almost a year after Blair's death before Shasa had been able to persuade her to close the L ,use up and return to Weltevreden. Now she ran a strict routine to which they were all expected to conform.
'Now what on earth is this?' Shasa tentatively attempted to lift one end of the long package, and then grunted. 'It's made of lead, whatever it is.' 'Hold on, Pater,' Garry called from the top of the staircase. 'You'll bust something.' He came bounding down the stairs, three at a time.
'I'll do that for you - where do you want it?' 'The gun room will do. Thanks, Garry.' Garry enjoyed showing off his strength and he lifted the heavy package easily, and manoeuvred it down the passageway, then through the gun-room door and laid it on the lion skin in front of the fireplace.
'Do you want me to open it?' he asked, and without waiting for an answer went to work on it.
Isabella perched on the desk, determined not to miss anything, and none of them spoke until Garry had stripped away the last sheet of hessian and stood back.
'It's magnificent,' Shasa breathed. 'I have never seen anythi quite like that in my life before.' It was a single tusk of curved ivor almost ten foot long, as thick as a pretty girl's waist at one end or tapering to a blunt point at the other.
'It must weigh almost a hundred and fifty pounds,' Garry sail 'But just look at the workmanship.' Shasa knew that the ivory workers of Zanzibar were the only from who could do something like this. The entire length of the tusk ha been carved with hunting scenes of exquisite detail and the fine execution.
'It's beautiful.' Even Isabella was impressed. 'Who sent it to you' 'There is an envelope --' Shasa pointed to the litter of discarde, wrappings, and Garry picked it out and passed it to him.
The envelope contained a single sheet of notepaper.
In camp on the Tona rive Dear Dad, Kenya.
Happy birthday - I'll be thinking of you on the day. This is my best jumb to date - 146 lbs. before the carving.
Why don't you come hunting with me?
Love, Sean With the note in one hand, Shasa squatted beside the tusk ant stroked the creamy smooth surface. The carvings depicted a herd all elephant, hundreds of them in a single herd. From old bulls and breeding cows to tiny calves, they fled in a long spiral frieze around the ivory shaft, diminishing in elegant perspective towards the point.
The herd was harassed and attacked by hunters along its length, beginning with men in lionskins armed with bows and poisoned arrows, or with broad-bladed elephant spears; towards the end of this primeval cavalcade the hu0ters were on horseback and wielding modern firearms. The path of the herd was strewn with great fallen carcasses, and it was beautiful and real and tragic.
However, it was neither the beauty nor the tragedy that thickened Shasa's voice as he said, 'Will you two leave me alone, please.' He did not look around at them, he did not want them to see his face.
For once Isabella did not argue, but took Garry's hand and led him from the room.
'He hasn't forgotten my birthday,' Shasa murmured, as he stroked the ivory. 'Not once since he left.' He coughed and stood up abruptly, jerked the handkerchief from his breast pocket and blew his nose loudly and then wiped his eyes.
'And I haven't even written to him, I haven't even replied to one of his letters.' He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and went to stand at the window, staring out over the lawns where the peacocks strutted. 'The stupid cruel thing is that he has always been my favourite of the three of them. Oh God, I'd give anything to see him again.' The rain was icy grey, drifting like smoke over the thick forests of bamboo that cloaked the crests of the Aberdare Mountains.
The four of them moved in single file with the Ndorobo tracker on the point, following the spoor in the forest earth that beneath the litter of 'fallen bamboo leaves was the colour and consistency of molten chocolate.
.Sen Courtney took the second position, covering the tracker and poisedto make any quick decision. He was the youngest of the three white Then but command had quite naturally devolved upon him.
Nobody had contested it.
The third man in the line, Alistair Sparks, was the youngest son of a Kenyan settler family. Although he possessed enormous powers of endurance, was a fine natural shot and a consummate bushman, he was lazy and
