chance gust of wind and fuel had forced them to curl inwards on each
other, spreading horns of fire ahead of Michael and Mbejane and leaving
them enclosed by a dancing, leaping palisade of flame.
'Go through! ' croaked Michael, his throat scalded and swolen.
'We must break through. ' And they churned their way towards the
encircling wall.
Through it, vague and unreal, he could see men beating at the flames,
distorted phantoms trying desperately to open a path for them.
Mbejane wore only a loin cloth, no breeches, coat nor boots to protect
him, as Michael had. He was very near the limit of his strength.
Now looking at Michael across the body of the boy they carried, Mbejane
saw a curious thing. Michael's hair crinkled slowly and then began to
smoke, smouldering like an old sack.
Michael screamed at the agony of it, a hideous sound that shrilled
above the roar and crackle of the flames. But agony was the key that
unlocked the last storehouse of his strength. As though it were a rag
doll he snatched Dirk's body from Mbejane's grasp and lifting it with
both hands on to his shoulders he charged into the fire.
The flames reached to his waist, clawing greedily at him as he ran and
the smoke eddied and swirled about him, but he was through.
'Help Mbejane! ' he shouted at the Zulu beaters and then he was out on
to the road. He dropped Dirk and beat at his clothing with his bare
hands. His boots were charred and his clothing was alight in a dozen
places. He fell and rolled wildly in the dusty road to smother it.
Two Zulus went in to help Mbejane. Two nameless blacknien, two
labourers, men of no distinction. Neither of them wore boots. Both of
them reached Mbejane as he tottered weakly towards them. One on each
side they urged him back towards the road.
At this moment Michael rolled to his knees in the road and despite his
own agony watched them with a sickened fascination.
Leading Mbejane between them as though he were a blind man, they
stumbled barefooted into the flames and stirred up a great cloud of
sparks around them. Then the smoke, rolled dOWT@ over them and they
were gone.
, Mbejane! ' croaked Michael, and pushed himself to his feet to go to
him, then: 'Oh God, Oh, thank God.' Mbejane and one of the Zulus
stumbled out of the smoke into the arms of the men who waited for
them.
back for the other Zulu. No one went back for No one went him until
two hours later when the dawn had broken and the fire had been stopped
at the road and the mature wattle had been saved. Then Ken Broster led
a small party gingerly into the wilderness of still smouldering ash,
into the black desert. They found him on his face Those parts of him
that had lain against the earth were still recognizable as belonging to
a human being.
'Ladyburg in twenty minutes, Mr. Courtney. The conductor put his head
round the door of the compartment.
'Thanks, Jack.' Sean looked up from his book.
'I see from this morning's paper that you're engaged to be married'? '
'That's right.'
