had his soul.
'Of course, my Board will have to approve the sale. It depends on them
really. ' Ronny's Board of Directors consisted of himself, his little
sister Audrey, and her husband Dennis Petersen. Ronny held eighty per
cent of the shares, and Sean knew this. He had examined the Company's
Articles that were lodged with the Registrar.
'Listen to me, dear friend of my youth. ' Sean leaned forward across
the stinkwood desk and picked up a heavy silver cigar-box. 'You made
an offer. I accepted it. I'll be here at four o'clock this afternoon
with the money. Please have the documents ready. ' Sean lifted the
cigar-box in one fist and started to squeeze. The muscles in his
forearm writhed like mating pythons and the box crumpled and burst open
at the seams. Sean placed the distorted lump of metal on the blotter
in front of Ronny.
'Don't misunderstand me, Sean. ' Ronny grinned nervously and dragged
his eyes away from the box. 'I'm certain I'll be able to convince my
Board.
The following day was a Saturday. No school for Dirk. and Sean took
him along on the daily ride out to the ranch. Almost beside himself
with joy at being alone with his god, Dirkie raced his pony ahead and
then circled at full gallop to fall in beside Sean once more.
Laughing with excitement, chattering ecstatically for a while, then he
could no longer contain his high spirits and he galloped ahead.
Before Sean reached the cross-roads below the escarpment he met a small
caravan of travellers coming in the opposite direction.
Sean greeted the leader solemnly. 'I see you, Mbejane.'
Mbejane had the jaded and slightly sheepish look of a tomcat returning
from a busy night out. 'I see you also, Nkosi.There was a long,
embarrassed silence while Mbejane took a pinch of snuff and stared
fixedly at the sky above Sean's head.
Sean was studying MbeJane's travelling companions. There were two in
their middle age, which is about thirty-five years old for a Zulu
woman. Both of them wore the tall head-dress of clay which denotes
matron hood Though they retained the proud, erect carriage, their
breasts were pendulous and empty and the skin of their bellies above
the brief aprons was wrinkled with the marks of child-bearing. There
were also two girls just beyond puberty, moon-faced skins glowing with
youth, straight and well-muscled, buttocks like ripe melons and firm,
round breasts. They hung their heads and giggled shyly.
'Perhaps it will rain tonight,' MbeJane remarked.
'Perhaps. ' 'It will be good for the grazing,' Mbejane ploughed on
doggedly.
'Who the hell are these women?' Sean could contain his curiosity no
longer and Mbejane frowned at his breach of etiquette. Observations on
the weather and the grazing should have continued another five
minutes.
'Nkosi, these two are my wives.' He gestured at the matrons.
'The other two your daughters?'
'No.' Mbejane paused, then went on gravely: 'It is not fitting that a
