worked as he ate.
That evening when he had altered the last paragraph on the final page
and laid his pen on the inkstand, he was smiling.
'Now, I will go and see my darling.' He spoke aloud and put on his
tunic.
The homestead of Theuniskraal sat on the crest of a rise below the
escarpment. A big building of whitewashed walls, thatch and Dutch
gables. In front of it the terraced lawns sprawled away, contoured by
beds of azaleas and blue rhododendrons and bounded on the one side by
the horse paddocks: two large paddocks for the brood mares and the
yearlings, where Garry paused beside the low fence and watched the
foals nuzzling upwards at the udders.
Then he limped on along the fence towards the smaller enclosure with
its nine, foot fence of thick, canvas, padded gum, poles that contained
his stud stallion.
Gypsy was waiting for him, nodding his almost snakelike head so that
his mane flared golden in the late sunlight, flattening his ears, then
pricking them forward, dancing a little with impatience.
'Hey, Boy. Hey there, Gypsy,' Garry called and the stallion thrust his
head between the poles to nibble with soft lips at Garry's sleeve.
'Sugar, is that what you're after. ' Garry chuckled and cupped his
hands while the stallion fed delicately from them.
'Sugar, my darling,' Garry whispered in sensual delight at the touch of
the soft muzzle on his skin and Gypsy cocked his ears to listen to his
voice.
'That's all. All finished.' The stallion nuzzled his chest and Garry
wiped his hands on its neck, caressing the warm and silky coat.
'That's all, my darling. Now run for me. Let me watch you run.'
He stepped back and clapped his hands loudly. 'Run, my darling,
run.'
The stallion pulled his head back between the poles and went up on his
hind legs, whinnying as he reared, cutting at the air with his fore,
hooves. The veins stood out along the belly and upon the tight double,
swollen bag of its scrotum.
Swift and virile and powerful, it pivoted upon its quarters.
'Run for me! ' shouted Garrick. The stallion came down into full
gallop along the track worn by his hooves, sweeping around the paddock
with loose dirt flying and the light dancing on his coat as the great
muscles bulged beneath.
'Run. ' Leaning against the poles of the fence, Garrick watched him
with an expression of terrible yearning.
When he stopped again with the first dark patches of sweat dulling his
shoulders, Garrick straightened up and shouted across the stable
yard.
'Zama, bring her now!'
On a long rein two grooms led the brood mare down towards the paddock.
Gypsy's nostrils flared into dark pink caverns and he rolled his eyes
until the whites showed.
'Wait, my darling, ' whispered Garrick in a voice tight with his own
