into the building.
it smelled of carbolic soap and kerosene and maize meal.
The shelves were loaded with cheap groceries, patent medicines, blankets
and bolts of printed cotton cloth.
From the roof hung bunches of army surplus boots and greatcoats,
axe-beads and storm lanterns. The floor was stacked with tin trunks,
pick handles, bins of flour and maize meal and the hundreds of other
items that traditionally make up the stock of the country dealer.
David found the African assistant and began his purchase.
outside in the sunlight Debra climbed from the Land Rover and leaned
lightly against the door. The labrador scrambled down after her and
began sniffing the concrete pillars of the veranda with interest where
other dogs before him had spurted jets of yellow urine against the
white-washed plaster.
Nice dog, said Akkers.
Thank you. Debra nodded politely.
Akkers glanced quickly across at his pet baboon, and his expression was
suddenly cunning. A flash of understanding passed between man and
animal. The baboon ducked its head again in that nervous gesture, then
it rose from its haunches and drifted back to the pole. With a leap and
bound it shot up the pole and disappeared into the opening of its
kennel.
Akkers grinned and carefully cut another slice of the black biltong.
You like it out at Jabulani? he asked Debra, and at the same time he
offered the scrap of dried meat to the dog.
We are very happy there, Debra replied stiffly, not wanting to be drawn.
Zulu sniffed the proffered titbit, and his tail beat like a metronome.
No dog can resist the concentrated meat smell and taste of biltong. He
gulped it eagerly. Twice more Akkers fed him the scraps, and Zulu's
eyes glistened and his soft silky muzzle was damp with saliva.
The waiting women in the shade of the veranda were watching with lively
interest now. They had seen this happen before with a dog, and they
waited expectantly.
David was in the building, out of sight. Debra stood blind and
unsuspecting.
Akkers cut a larger piece of the dried meat and offered it to Zulu, but
when he reached for it he pulled his hand away, teasing the dog. With
his taste for biltong now firmly established, Zulu tried again for the
meat as it was offered. Again it was pulled away at the last moment.
Zulu's black wet nose quivered with anxiety, and the soft ears were
cocked.
Akkers walked down the steps with Zulu following him eagerly, and at the
bottom he showed the dog the biltong once more, letting him sniff it.
Then he spoke softly but urgently, Get it, boy, and threw the scrap of
biltong at the base of the baboon's pole. Zulu bounded forward, still
slightly clumsy on his big puppy paws, into the circle of the chain
where the baboon's paws had beaten the earth hard. He ran on under the
pole and grubbed hungrily for the biltong in the dust.
The bull baboon came out of his kennel like a tawny grey blur and
dropped the fifteen feet through the air; his limbs were spread and his
