corner of Rosa's eye and slid down her cheek.
'Bassie, my boy.' Slowly Flynn's eyes sought him, found him, and focused with difficulty. 'Don't blame yourself for this. I was an old man anyway I've had my life.' He panted a little and then went on painfully. 'Look after her. Look after my little Rosa. You are my son now. I've never had a son.'
'I didn't know... I had no idea that your heart... Flynn, I'm dreadfully sorry. Forgive me.'
Flynn smiled, a brave little smile that just touched his lips. He lifted his hand weakly and held it out towards Sebastian. While Sebastian clasped his hand, Flynn considered offering him the money that had been the cause of the dispute as a dying man's gift but he manfully restrained himself from such extravagance. Instead he whispered, 'I would like to have seen my grandson, but no matter. Good, bye, my boy.'
'You'll see him, Flynn. I promise you that. We'll stay, won't we, Rosa? We'll stay with him.'
'Yes, we'll stay, said Rosa. 'We won't leave you, Daddy.'
'My children.' Flynn sank back and closed his eyes.
Thank God, he hadn't offered the money. A peaceful little smile hovered around his mouth. 'You've made an old man very happy.'
Flynn made a strong come-back from the edge of death, so strong, in fact, that it aroused Rosa's suspicions. However, she let it pass for she was happy to have avoided the necessity of leaving Lalapanzi. In addition, there was another matter which was taking up a lot of her attention.
Since she had said good-bye to Sebastian at the start of his tax tour, Rosa had been aware of the cessation of certain womanly functions of her body. She consulted Nanny who, in turn, consulted the local nungane who, in his turn, opened the belly of a chicken, and consulted its entrails.
His findings were conclusive, and Nanny reported back to Rosa, without disclosing the source of her information, for Little Long Hair had an almost blasphemous lack of faith in the occult.
Delighted, Rosa took Sebastian for a walk down the valley, and when they reached the waterfall where it had all begun, she stood on tip-toe, put both arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. She had to repeat herself for her voice was muffled with breathless laughter.
'You're joking,' gasped Sebastian, and then blushed bright crimson.
'I'm not, you know.'
'Good grief,' said Sebastian; and then, groping for some, thing more expressive, 'Son of a gunV
'Aren't you pleased?' Rosa pouted playfully. 'I did it for you.
'But we aren't even married.'
'That can be arranged.'
'And quickly, too,' agreed Sebastian. He grabbed her wrist. 'Come on!'
'Sebastian, remember my condition.'
'Good grief, I'm sorry.'
He took her back to Lalapanzi, handing her over the rough ground with as much care as though she was a case of sweating gelignite.
'What's the big hurry?' asked Flynn jovially at dinner that evening. 'I've got a little job for Bassie first. I want him to slip across the river..
'No, you don't,' said Rosa. 'We are going to see the priest at Beira.'
'It Would only take Bassie a couple of weeks. Then we could talk about it when he gets back.'
'We are going to Beira tomorrow!'
'What's the rush?' Flynn asked again.
'Well, the truth is, Flynn, old boy.. Wriggling in his chair, colouring up vividly, Sebastian relapsed into silence.
'The truth is I'm going to have a baby,' Rosa finished for him.
'You're what?' Flynn stared at her in horror.
'You said that you wanted to see your grandchild,' Rosa pointed out.
'But I didn't mean you to start work on it right away,'
roared Flynn, and he rounded on Sebastian. 'You dirty young bugger!'
'Father, your heard' Rosa restrained him. 'Anyway, don't pick on Sebastian, I did my share as well.'
'You shameless... You brazen little -.'
Rosa reached behind the seat cushion where Flynn had hidden the gin bottle. 'Have a little of this it will help calm you.'
They left for Beira the following morning. Rosa was carried in a maschille with Sebastian trotting beside it in anxious attendance, ready to help ease the litter over the fords and rough places, and to curse any of the bearers who stumbled.
When they left Lalapanzi, Flynn O'Flynn brought up the rear of the column, lying in his maschille with a square faced bottle for company, scowling and muttering darkly about fornication and sin.'
But both Rosa and Sebastian ignored him, and when they camped that night the two of them sat across the camp-fire from him, and whispered and laughed secretly together. They pitched their voices at such a tantalizing level that even by straining his ears, Flynn could not overhear their conversation. It infuriated him to such an extent that finally he made a loud remark about beating the hell out of the person who had repaid his hospitality by violating his daughter.'
Rosa said that she would give anything to see him try it again. In her opinion it would be better than a visit to the circus. And Flynn gathered his dignity and his gin bottle and stalked away to where Mohammed had laid out his bedding under ale an-to of thorn bushes.
During the dark hours before dawn they were visited by an old lion. He came with a rush from the darkness beyond the fire-light, grunting like an angry boar, the great black bush of his mane erect, snaking with incredible speed towards the huddle of blanket-wrapped figures about the fire.
Flynn was the only one not asleep. He had waited all night, watching Sebastian's reclining figure; just waiting for him to move across to the temporary thorn-bush shelter that gave Rosa privacy. Lying beside Flynn was his shotgun, dOUble-loaded with big loopers, lion shot, and he had every intention of using it.
When the lion charged into the camp, Flynn sat up quickly and fired both barrels of the shotgun at point-blank range into the lion's heead and chest, killing it instantly. But the momentum of its rush bowled it forward, sent it sliding full into Sebastian, and both of them rolled into the camp-fire.
Sebastian awoke to lion noises, and gun-fire, and the violent collision of a big body into his, and red-hot coals sticking to various parts of his anatomy. With a single bound, and a wild cry, he threw off his blanket, came to his feet, and went into such a lively song and dance routine, yodelling and high-kicking, and striking out at his imaginary assailants that Flynn was reduced to a jelly of helpless laughter.
The laughter, and the praise and thanks showered on him by Sebastian, Rosa, and the bearers, cleared the air.
'You saved my life, 'said Sebastian soulfully.
'Oh Daddy, you're wonderful,' said Rosa. 'Thank you.
Thank you,' and she hugged him.
The mantle of the hero felt snug and comfortable on Flynn's shoulders. He became almost human and the improvement continued as each day's march brought them closer to the little Portuguese port of Beira, for Flynn greatly enjoyed his rare visits to civilization.
The last night they camped a mile from the outskirts of the town, and after a private conference with Flynn, old Mohammed went ahead armed with a small purse of escudos to make the arrangements for Flynn's formal entry on the morrow.
Flynn was up with the dawn, and while he shaved with care, and dressed in clean moleskin jacket and trousers, one of the bearers polished his boots with hippo fat, and two others scaled the tall bottle palm tree near the camp and cut fronds from its head.
All things being ready, Flynn ascended his maschille and lay back elegantly on the leopard-skin rugs. On each side of Flynn a bearer took his position, armed with a palm-frond, and began to fan him gently. Behind Flynn, in single file, followed other servants bearing tusks of ivory and the still green lion skin. Behind this, with instructions from Flynn not to draw undue Attention to themselves, followed Sebastian and Rosa and the baggage bearers.
With a languid gesture such as might have been used by Nero to signal the start of a Roman circus, Flynn gave the order to move.
Along the rough road through the thick coastal bush, they came at last to Beira and entered the main street in procession.
'Good Lord,' Sebastian expressed his surprise when he saw the reception that awaited them, 'where did they all come from?'
Both sides of the street were lined with cheering crowds, mainly natives, but with here and there a Portuguese or an Indian trader come out of his shop to find the cause of the disturbance.
'Fini!' chanted the crowd, clapping their hands in unison.
'Bwana Mkuba! Great Lord! Slayer of elephant. Killer of lions!'
'I didn't realize that Flynn was so well regarded.' Sebastian was impressed.
'Most of them have never heard of him,' Rosa disillusioned him. 'He sent Mohammed in last night to gather a claque of about a hundred or so. Pays them one escudo each to come and cheer, they make so much noise that the entire population turns out to see what is going on. They fall for it
