around him the west wind soughed and shook the trees.
The restlessness of the wind increased his own, so he must get out of
the valley-get up on to the high ground of the escarpment. He started
to walk, hurrying past the paddocks towards the stables. In the stable
yard he stopped abruptly, his tall lean body caught in mid-stride.
There was a glow, a soft orange glow on the far hills of the Lion
Kop.
Then Michael ran, shouting as he passed the grooms' quarters.
He threw open the half door of one of the stalls and snatched the
bridle from its peg as he ran to his horse. Hands clumsy with haste,
he forced the bit between the animal's teeth and buckled the cheek
strap. When he led it out into the yard two of the grooms were standing
there, bewildered with sleep.
'Fire!' Michael pointed along the hills. 'Call everybody and bring
them to help. ' He went up on to the bare back of his horse and looked
down at them. 'Bring every man from the location, come in the mule,
wagon. Come as fast as you can. Then he hit his heels into the mare's
flanks and drove out of the yard, laying forward across her back.
Seventy minutes later Michael checked her on the crest of the
escarpment. She was blowing heavily between his knees. Still five
miles ahead, bright even in the bright moonlight, a circle of fire lay
on the dark plantations of Lion Kop. Above it a black cloud, a cloud
that climbed and spread on the wind to hide the stars.
'Oh God, Uncle Sean!' The exclamation wrung from Michael was a cry of
physical pain, and he urged the mare forward again. Charging her
recklessly through the ford of the Baboo Stroom. so that the water
flew like exploding glass, then lunging up the far bank and on along
the hills.
The mare was staggering in her gallop as Michael kneed her through the
gates into the yard of the Lion Kop homestead.
There were wagons and many blacknen carrying axes. Michael hauled the
mare back so violently that she nearly fell.
'Where is the Nkosi?' he shouted at a big Zulu he recognized as Sean's
personal servant.
'He has gone to Pietermaritzburg.
Michael slid down from his horse and turned her loose.
'Send a man to the village to ask for help.
'It is done,' the Zulu replied.
'We must move all the livestock from the top paddocks, get the horses
out of the stables, it may come this way,' Michael went on.
'I have sent all the wives to do these things.'
'You have done well, then. Now let us go.'
The Zulus were swarming up on to the wagons, clutching the long,
handled axes. Michael and Mbejane ran to the lead wagon Michael took
the reins. At that moment two horsemen galloped into the yard.
He could not see their faces in the night.
'Who's that?' Michael shouted.
ster and Van Wyk! ' The nearest neighbours.
Thank God! Will you take the other wagons?'
They dismounted and ran past Michael.
