still day. It has been hot and dry for perhaps a month, then you hear
them from far away, roaring softly. The roar mounts quickly, the dust
races brown on the wind and the trees lean away from it, threshing and
churning their branches. You see it coming but all your preparations
are nothing when it hits.
The vast roaring and the dust envelope you and you are numbed and
blinded by the violence of it.
In the same way Sean saw it coming, he recognized it as the murderous
rage which before had nearly killed a man, but still he could not
prepare himself And then it was upon him and the roaring filled his
head and narrowed his vision so that all he could see was the face of
Saul Friedman. The face was in profile for Saul was sat ring back
across the plain of Colenso towards the English lines.
Sean lifted the dead corporal's rifle and laid it across his lap.
With his thumb he dipped off the safety-catch, but Saul did not notice
the movement.
'She's in Pietermaritzburg, I had a letter from her last week, he
murmured, and Sean shifted the rifle in his lap so that the muzzle
aimed into the side of Saul's chest below the armpit.
'I sent her down to Pietermaritzburg. She's staying with her uncle
there. ' Saul lifted his hand and touched his head. Sean curled his
finger on the trigger. 'I wish you could meet her, Sean. She'd like
you.' Now he looked into Sean's face, and there was such pathetic
trust in his eyes. 'When I write I am going to tell her about
today-about what you did. ' Sean took up the slack in the trigger
until he could feel the final resistance.
'We both owe you-' Saul stopped and smiled shyly. 'I just want you to
know that I'll never forget it. ' Kill him, roared Sean's head.
Kill him now-kill him quickly.
Don't let him talk.
It was the first conscious command his instinct had issued.
Now! Do it now! But his trigger-finger relaxed.
This is all that stands between you and Ruth. Do it, do it now.
The roaring in his head abated. The big wind had passed by and he
could hear it receding. He lifted the rifle and slowly pushed the
safety-catch across.
In the stillness after the wind he knew suddenly that from now on Saul
Friedman was his special charge. Because he had come so close to
taking it from him, Saul's life had become a debt of honour.
He laid the rifle aside and closed his eyes wearily.
'We'd better think about getting out of here, ' he said quietly.
'Otherwise I might never get around to meeting this beauty of yours.
'Hart has got himself into a mess out there!' General Sir Redvers
Buller's voice matched the pompous jut of his belly and he leaned back
against the weight of the telescope he held to his eye. 'What do you
think, Courtney?
'Well, he certainly hasn't reached the drift, sir. It looks to me as
though he's been pinned down in the loop of the river, Garry agreed.
'Damn the man! My orders were clear,' growled Buller.
'What can you make of the guns-can you see anything there?'
