diamond mines, gold, chrome and copper - I knew how big it must be.
I touched lightly on his difficulties with Hilary.
‘My God, Ben. If only they understood that they don’t buy you with the marriage certificate!’ There were three others who had found that out the hard way, I hoped that Hilary would not be the fourth.
It was almost dark when MacDonald came down the bank.
‘Excuse me, Mr Sturvesant. Could I ask you to come into the perimeter now. I don’t like taking unnecessary chances.’ And with good grace Louren flicked the stub of his cigar into the pool, and stood up.
‘This used to be a country where a man could range to the full extent of his fancy. Times are changing, Ben.’
When we entered the camp there was coffee brewing on a low screened fire, and while we sipped from the steaming mugs I saw the precautions MacDonald had taken for our safety and I realized that his competent looks were not deceiving. He finished his sentry rounds and came to sit with us.
‘I should have asked you sooner, but do you gentlemen know how to use the FN rifle and the 60-calibre machine-gun?’ Louren and I both told him we did.
‘Good.’ MacDonald looked out towards the north. ‘The closer we get to the border the more chance there is of a clash. There has been a big step-up in the terrorist activity recently. Something brewing up there.’
He poured a mug of coffee and sipped before he asked:
‘Well, gentlemen, what are your plans for tomorrow? How far are we from our destination?’
I looked at Xhai. ‘How far is it to the holes in the rock, my brother?’
‘We will be there before the sun stands so,’ indicating noon with one delicate little hand, ‘my people are camped at the waterhole near the holes in the rock. We will go there to find them first, for they have long awaited my coming.’
I stared at him, realizing for the first time the extent of Xhai’s friendship. Then I turned to Louren. ‘Do you realize, Lo, that this little devil has made a trek of 150 miles on foot merely to tell us something that might give us pleasure.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘As soon as he discovered the old workings he left his tribe and set off to find me.’
That night Xhai slept between Louren and me. He still didn’t trust the big Matabele troopers one little bit.
It was eleven o’clock the following morning when we saw the vultures in the northern sky. MacDonald halted the column, and came back to our vehicle.
‘Something up ahead. Probably only a lion kill, but we had better not take any chances.’
Xhai slipped off the seat and clambered onto the roof of the Land-Rover. For a minute he watched the distant birds, then he came down to me.
‘My people have killed a large animal. Perhaps even a buffalo, for the birds are above my camp. There is nothing to fear. Let us go forward.’
I translated for MacDonald, and he nodded.
‘Okay, Doctor. But we’ll keep our eyes peeled all the same.’
The bushmen had erected five rude shelters beside a hole of mud and filthy water. They had merely bent a number of saplings inwards to form the framework, and then thatched it roughly with leaves and grass. There was no smoke and no sign of the little yellow people as we drove towards the encampment. Xhai was looking puzzled, darting little birdlike glances into the thick bush, and whistling softly through his teeth. The vultures sat in the tree- tops all around the camp, and as we approached there was a sudden commotion from amongst the huts and twenty or thirty of the big ugly birds flapped into the air.
Xhai let out a soft wailing cry. I did not understand what had happened, it merely seemed odd that the vultures were on the ground amongst the huts, but Xhai had guessed it. He began rocking slowly on the seat, hugging his chest and emitting that low-pitched wail.
MacDonald stopped his Land-Rover and climbed out. He stooped over something on the ground, then he straightened up and shouted an order. His troopers jumped from the vehicle and spread out with their weapons held ready. Louren parked our Land-Rover and we went to where MacDonald was standing amongst the huts. Xhai remained in the back seat, still rocking and wailing.
For the Bantu the bushman girls are an object of peculiar lust. I do not know why this should be so, perhaps it is their golden yellow colour, or it may be their tiny doll-like bodies. They had raped Xhai’s women, all of them, even the little immature girls. Then they had bayoneted them and left them lying in that pathetically vulnerable attitude of love. Ghal and the other two males they had shot. Bursts of automatic fire had smashed their bodies so that slivers and chips of bone protruded from the mangled flesh. The blood had dried in black splashes and puddles. There were flies everywhere, big green metallic flies that buzzed like hiving bees and came to settle on my lips and eyes. I struck them away angrily. The birds had been at the bodies, that was the truly horrible part of it, the birds.
‘God,’ said Louren. ‘Oh God. Why? Why did they do it?’
‘It’s their style,’ MacDonald answered. ‘Frelimo, Mau-Mau, all of them hit their own people hardest.’
‘But why?’ repeated Louren.
‘They’ve got guns. They want to use them. This is easier than going for white ranchers or police posts.’ Two of the police troopers carried a tarpaulin from one of the Land-Rovers. They began wrapping the bodies. I walked back to our vehicle and leaned against the door. Suddenly I was sick, an acid bitter flood gushing up my throat, and I retched painfully.
When I was finished I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and looked up to find Xhai watching me. He was a man deprived of everything except the breath of life. There was such agony in those dark eyes, such sorrow twisted that mouth that I felt my own heart breaking for him.
