dramatically. I have run barefooted through the stars, I have soared on eagles'wings above the mountain peaks. Storm laughed, coming fully awake now, as beautiful even in deshabilIg as Irene would never be, so graceful and lovely that Irene hated her again. She savoured the moment, drawing out the pleasure of anticipation. Where have you been, you mad bad woman? Storm started to catch the spirit of the moment. Tell all! Through the gates of paradise, to the land of never-never on the continent of always -'Irene's smile became sharp, spiteful and venomous, in short, darling, Mark Anders has been bouncing me like a rubber ball! And the expression on Storm Courtney's face gave her the most intense satisfaction she had known in her life. On the third day of January, the Chamber of Mines deliberately tore up the Agreement that it had come to with your Union to maintain the status quo. It tore that agreement to a thousand pieces and flung them in the faces of the workers. Fergus MacDonald spoke with a controlled icy fury that carried to every corner of the great hall, and it stilled even the rowdies in the back seats who had brought their bottles in brown paper packets. Now they listened with intensity, Big Harry Fisher, sitting beside him on the dais, turned his head slowly to assess the man, peering at him under beetling eyebrows and with the bulldog folds of his face hanging mournfully. He marvelled again at how Fergus MacDonald changed when he stood to speak.
Usually he cut a nondescript figure with the small bulge of a paunch beginning to distort the spare frame, the cheap and ill-fitting suit shiny at the elbows and seat with wear, the collar of the frayed shirt damed, and grease spots on the drab necktie. His hair was thinning, starting up in wispy spikes around the neck, pushing back from the brow and with a pink bare patch in the crown. His face had that grey tone from the embedded filth of the machine shops, but when he stood under the red flag and the emblem of the Amalgamated Mineworkers Union on the raised dais facing the packed hall, he grew in stature, a physical phenomenon that was quite extraordinary. He seemed younger and there was a fierce and smouldering passion which stripped away his shoddy dress and armoured him with presence. Brothers! He raised his voice now. When the mines reopened after the Christmas recess, two thousand of our members were discharged, thrown out into the street, discarded like worn-out pairs of old boots The hall hummed, the warning sound of a beehive on a hot summer's day, but the stillness of thousands of bodies pressed closely together was more menacing than any movement. Brothers! Fergus moved his hands in a slow hypnotic movement. Brothers! Beginning at the end of this month, and for every month after that, another six hundred men will be, he paused again and then spat the official word at them, retrenched. They seemed to reel with the word, the whole concourse stunned as though by a physical blow, and the silence drew out, until a voice at the back yelled wildly, No, brothers. No! They roared then, a sound like the surf on a stormy day when it breaks upon a rocky shore.
Fergus let them roar, and he hooked his thumbs into his rumpled waistcoat and watched them, gloating in the feeling of exultation, the euphoria of power. He judged the strength of their reaction, and the moment it began to falter he raised both hands, and almost immediately the silence fell upon the hall again. Brothers! Do you know that the wages of a black man are two shillings and two pence a day? Only a black man can live on that wage! He let it sink in a moment, but not too long before he went on, asking a reasonable question, Who will take the place of two thousand of our brothers who are now out of work? Who will replace the six hundred that will join them at the end of this month, and the next and the next? Who will take your job, he was picking out individuals, pointing at them with an accuser's finger, and yours, and yours? Who will take the food from your children's mouths? He waited theatrically for an answer, cocking his head, smiling at them while his eyes smouldered. Brothers! I tell you who it will be. Two and tuppenny black kaffirs, that's who it will be!
They came upon their feet, a bench here and there crashing over backwards and their voices were a blood-roar of anger, clenched fists thrust out in fury. No, brothers. No! Their booted feet stamped in unison and they chanted, their fists punching into empty air.
Fergus MacDonald sat down abruptly and Harry Fisher congratulated him silently, squeezing his shoulder in a bear's paw before lumbering to his feet. Your executive has recommended that all members of our Union come out on general strike. I put it to you now, brothers, all those in favour, he bellowed, and his voice was drowned in a thousand others. Out, brothers! We're out! Out! Out! Fergus leaned forward in his seat and looked down the length of the trestle table.
Helena's dark head was bowed over the minute book, but she sensed his gaze and looked up. Her expression glowed with a fanatic's ecstasy, and there was open adoration in her eyes that he saw only at moments like this.
Harry Fisher had told him once, For all women, poweristhe ultimate aphrodisiac. No matter how puny in body, no matter what he looks like- power makes a man irresistible. In the thunder of thousands of voices, the pounding feet and the heady roar of power, Fergus was on his feet again. The mine-owners, the bosses have challenged us, they have scorned your executive, they have stated-publicly that we are too faint-hearted to rally the workers and come out on general strike! Well, brothers, we are going to show them. The lion's voice of the crowd rose again and he silenced it only after another minute. First, we are going to drive on the scabs, there are going to be no strikebreakers. When the sound subsided he went on, Slim Jannie Smuts has talked of force to beat a strike, he has an army, but we are going to have one also. I think the bosses have forgotten that we fought their bloody war for them in France and East Africa, at Tabora and Delville Wood.
The names sobered them and they were listening again. Last time we fought for them, but this time we are fighting for ourselves. Each one of you will report to his area commander, you will be armed into 2hting commandos, each man will know his job, and each man will know what is at stake. We will beat them, brothers, the bloody bosses and their greedy grasping minions. We will fight them and beat them! They are organized into military-style commandos, said the Prime Minister softly, breaking the crisp brown roll of bread with fingers that were surprisingly small, neat and capable as a woman's. Of course, we know that George Mason wanted to form labour commandos in 194- It was the main reason I had him deported. The other guests at the luncheon table were silent. The deportation of Mason was not an episode that reflected credit on Jannie Smuts.
But this is a different animal we are dealing with now.
Nearly all the younger members of the unions are trained veterans. Five hundred of them paraded outside the Trade Union Hall in Fordsburg last Saturday. He turned and smiled that impish, irresistible smile at his hostess. My dear Ruth, you must forgive my bad manners. This talk detracts from the delicious meal you have provided. The table was set under the oak trees on lawns so vivid green that Ruth always thought of them as English green.
The house itself had the solid imposing bulk of Georgian England, so different from the frivolous fairy castle at Emoyeni; the illusion of old England was spoiled only by the soaring cliffs of grey rock that rose as a backdrop to the scene. The sheer slopes of Table Mountain were softened by the pine trees that clung precariously for footholds on each ledge and in each tiny pocket of soil.
Ruth smiled at him, In this house, General, you may do as you wish. Thank you, my dear. The smile flickered off his face and the merry twinkle of the pale blue eyes changed to the glint of swords, as he turned back to his listeners. They are seeking confrontation, gentlemen, it's a blatant test of our power and resolution. Ruth caught Mark's eye at the foot of the table and he rose to refill the glasses with cold pale wine tinged with a touch of green, dry and crisp and refreshing, but as he moved down the board, pausing beside each guest, three Cabinet ministers, a visiting British Earl, the Secretary of the Chamber of Mines, he was listening avidly. We can only hope you put it too highly, Prime Minister, Sean Courtney intervened gruffly. They have only broomsticks with which to drill, and bicycles on which to ride into battle. .
And while they laughed, Mark paused behind Sean's chair with the bottle forgotten in his hand. He was remembering the cellars below the Trade Union Hall in Fordsburg, the racks of modern rifles, the gleaming P. I 4
