The trees dripped steadily in the silence and a gust of wind stirred the
scrub on the slope of the kopje. Bruce waited, straining his eyes for
the first hint of movement on the left-hand turret.
'You yellow or something, Curry ? You scared to come on up here?
Is that what it is? Bruce shifted his position slightly, ready for a
snap shot.
'Okay, Bucko. I can wait, I've got all day. I'll just sit here thinking
about how I mucked your little bit of French. I'm telling you it was
something to remember. Up and down, in and out, man it was something!'
Bruce came carefully up on to his feet behind the trunk of the tree and
once more studied the layout of the kopie.
If I can move up the slope, keeping well over to the side, until I
reach the right-hand turret, there's a ledge there that will take me to
the top. I'll be twenty or thirty feet from him, and at that range it
will all be over in a few seconds.
He drew a deep breath and left the shelter of the tree.
Wally Hendry spotted the movement in the forest below him; it was a
flash of brown quickly gone, too fast to get a bead on it.
He wiped the rain off his face and wriggled a foot closer to the edge.
'Come on, Curry. Let's stop buggering about,' he shouted, and cuddled
the butt of his rifle into his shoulder. The tip of his tongue kept
darting out and touching his lips.
At the foot of the slope he saw a branch move slightly, stirring when
there was no wind. He grinned and snuggled his hips down on to the rock.
Here he comes, he gloated, he's crawling up, under the scrub
'I know you're sitting down there. Okay, Curry, I can wait also.'
Half-way up the slope the top leaves of another bush swayed gently,
parting and closing.
'Yes!' whispered Wally, 'Yes!' and he clicked off the safety catch of
the rifle. His tongue came out and moved slowly from one corner of his
mouth to the other.
I've got him, for sure, There - he'll have to cross that piece of open
ground. A couple a yards, that's all. But it'll be enough.
He moved again, wriggling a few inches to one side, to the gap between
two large grey boulders; settling his aim in he pushed the rate-of-fire
selector on to rapid and his fore-finger rested lightly on the trigger.
'Hey, Curry, I'm getting bored. If you are not going to come up, how
about singing to me or cracking a few jokes?' Bruce Curry crouched
behind a large grey boulder. In front of him were three yards of open
ground and then the shelter of another rock. He was almost at the top of
the slope and Hendry had not spotted him. Across the patch of open
ground was good cover to the foot of the right-hand turret.
It would take him two seconds to cross and the chances were that
Hendry would be watching the forest at the foot of the slope.
He gathered himself like a sprinter on the starting blocks.
'Go!' he whispered and dived into the opening, and into a hell storm of
bullets. One struck his rifle, tearing it out of his hand with such
force that his arm was paralysed to the shoulder, another stung his
chest, and then he was across.
He lay behind the far boulder, gasping with the shock, and listened to
