When the Lion Feeds (52 page)

Katrina washed him when he woke. Mbejane helped her lift and turn him, his big pink-palmed hands very gentle as he handled the leg. They washed the smell of fever off him and changed the dressings. Sean watched Katrina as she worked and every time she looked up they smiled at each other. Once he used a little of his strength to ask Mbejane, Where were you when I needed you? I slept in the sun, Nkosi, like -an old woman, Mbejane half-laughed, half-apologized. Katrina brought him food and when he smelt it he was hungry. He ate it all and then he slept Mbejane built a shelter with open sides and a roof of thatch. He sited it in the shade on the bank of the Sabi.

Then he made a bed of poles and laced leather thongs.

They carried Sean from the wagon, Katrina fussing around them until they had laid him in the shelter. Katrina went back to the wagon for pillows and when she returned she found Thief and Sean settling down comfortably. Sean, get that monster out of there, those blankets have just been washed. Thief flattened his body and hid his head in Sean's armpit.

It's all right, he's quite clean, Sean protected him. He smells. He does not. Sean sniffed at Thief. Well, not much anyway! You two! She put the pillows under Sean's head and went round to his leg. How does it feel? It's fine, said Sean. Thief inched himself up the bed until he reached the pillows.

In the slow slide of days Sean's body healed and the well of his strength filled. The moving air under the shelter dried the scabs off his chest and leg, but there would be scars. In the morning, after breakfast, Sean held court from His couch. Katrina sat on the end of the bed and his servants squatted around him. First they talked over domestic matters, the health of the oxen, mentioning them by name, discussing their eyes, hooves and stomachs. There was a tear in the canvas of one wagon.

The single remaining bitch was in season, was Thief fit enough for the job yet? There was meat to kill perhaps the Nkosikaze would take the rifle later today.

Mubi had caught four barbel of medium size in his fish trap, and here the talk turned to the bush around them.

A lion had killed a buffalo below the first bend in the river, there you could see the vultures. During the night a herd of cow elephant had drunk a mile upstream. Each item was considered by the meeting.

Everyone felt free to comment or argue against any view which conflicted with his own. When everything had been said Sean gave them their tasks for the day and sent them away. Then he and Katrina could be alone.

From the shelter they could see the full sweep of the river, with the crocodiles lying on the white sandbars and the kingfishers plopping into the shallows. They sat close to each other and they talked of the farm they would have. Sean would grow grapes and breed horses and Katrina would keep chickens. By the next rainy season they would have filled all the wagons; one more trip after that and they would have enough to buy the farm.

Katrina kept him in bed long after he was strong enough to leave it. She mothered him and he loved it. Shamelessly, in the fashion of the male, he accepted her attentions, and even exaggerated his injuries a little.

Finally but reluctantly Katrina let him up. He stayed in camp a week more, until his legs stopped wobbling, then one evening he took his rifle and went with Mhejane to shoot fresh meat. They went slowly, Sean favouring his leg and he shot a young eland not far from the laager.

Sean sat against a Hisasa tree and smoked a cheroot while Mbejane went back to fetch servants to carry the meat. Sean watched them butcher the carcass; there were slabs of white fat on the meat. They slung it on poles and carried it between them, two men to a pole, and when they got back to camp Sean found Katrina in one of her inscrutable moods. When he talked to her at supper she answered him from far away and afterwards by the fire she sat detached from him. She was very lovely and Sean was puzzled and a little resentful. At last he stood up. It's time for bed, I'll see you to your wagon. You go. I'll sit a little longer.

Sean hesitated. Is there something wrong? Have I done something wrong?

No! she said quickly. No. I'm all right. You go to bed.

He kissed her cheek. If you need me I'll be close. Goodnight, sleep sweet!

He straightened up. Come on, Thief, he said. Time for bed. Leave thief with me, please. Katrina caught the skin at the back of the dog's neck and remained him. Why? I just feel like company. Then I'll stay as well, Sean moved to sit down again. No, you go to bed. She sounded desperate and Sean looked hard at her. Are you sure you're all rightV Yes, please go. He went to his wagon and looked back at her. She was sitting very straight, holding the dog. He climbed into the wagon. The lamp was lit and he stopped in surprise when he saw his cot. There were sheets on it, not just the rough blankets. He ran his hand over the smooth fabric; it was crisp from new ironing. He sat on the cot and pulled off his boots. He undid his shirt and threw it onto the chest, then he lay back and looked up at the lamp. There's something bloody funny going on here, he said. Sean! her voice just outside the wagon.

Sean jumped up and opened the flap. Can I come in? Yes, of course. He gave her his hand and lifted her into the wagon. He looked at her face.

She was frightened.

There is something wrong, he said. No, don't touch me. There's something I've got to tell you. Sit down on the cot Sean watched her face. He was worried. I thought I loved you when I came away with you.

I thought -we had for ever to be together. She swallowed painfully.

-Then I found you there in the grass, torn and dead. Before our life together had begun you were dead.

Sean saw the pain come back into her eyes; she was living it again. He put out his hand to her but she held his wrist. No, wait. . . please let me finish. I have to explain to you. It's very important. Sean dropped his hand and she went on speaking quickly.

You were dead and I, too, was dying inside. I felt empty.

There was nothing left. Nothing. . . just the hollowness inside and the dry dead feeling on the outside. I touched your face and you looked at me. I prayed then, Sean, and I prayed through the days when you fought the rotting of your body!

She knelt in front of him and held him around the waist. Now we are alive and together again, but I know that it cannot be for ever. A day more, a year, if we are lucky, twenty. But not for ever. I see how small I have been to us. I want to be your wife!

He bent to her quickly but she pulled away and stood up. She slipped the buttons and her clothing fell away.

She loosed her hair and let it drop shiny bright down the whiteness of her body. Look at me, Sean, I want you to look at me. This and my love i can give you . . . is it enough? There was smoothness, hollow and swell, hair like black fire and soft light on soft skin. He saw the flush from her cheeks spread onto her breasts until they glowed, pink and shy but proud in their perfection. He looked no further. He took her to him and covered her nakedness with his big body. She was trembling and he put her between the sheets and gentled her with his voice until the trembling stopped and she lay with her face pressed up under his beard into his neck.

Show me how. . . I want to give everything to you.

Please show me how, she whispered.

So they married each other and their marriage was a comingling of many things. There was the softness of the wind in it and wanting, the way the baked earth wants the rain. There was pain sharp and swift, movement like running horses, sound low as voices in the night but glad as a greeting, joy climbing on eagles wings, the triumphant surge and burst of wild water on a rock shore and then there was stillness and warmth within and the snuggling of drowsy puppies, and sleep. Yet it did not end in the sleep, it went on to another seeking and finding, another union and a stranger mystery in the secret depths of her body.

all In the morning she brought her Bible to him. Hey, hey, protested sean, I've already sworn one oath. Katrina laughed at him, the memory of the night still warm and happy inside her. She opened the book at its fly leaf. You've got to write your name in it. . . here, next to mine!

She watched him, standing next to his chair with her hip touching his shoulder.

And your date of birth, she said.

Sean wrote: Ninth Jan. 1862, . Then he said: What's this "date of death". do you want me to fill that in as well? Don't talk like that, she said quickly and touched the wooden table.

Sean was sorry he'd said it. He tried to cover up.

There's only space for six children! We can write the others in the margin. That's what Ma did. . . . hers even go over onto the first page of Genesis.

Do you think we'll get that far, Sean?

Sean smiled at her. The way I feel now we should reach the New testament without much trouble. They had made a good start. By June the rains were over and Katrina walked with her shoulders back to balance her load. There was a good feeling in the camp. Katrina was more woman than child now. She was big and radiant, pleased with the awe her condition inspired in Sean.

She sang to herself often and sometimes in the night she would let him share in it. She would let him pull the nightdress back from the mound of her stomach and lay his ear against the tight-stretched, blue-veined skin. He listened to the suck and gurgle and felt the movement against his cheek. When he sat up his eyes would be full of the wonder of it and she would smile proudly at him and take his head on her shoulder and they would be together quietly. In the daytime things were right as well.

Sean laughed with the servants and hunted without the intensity of before.

They moved north along the Sabi river. Sometimes they camped for a month at one place. The game came back to the rivers as the veld dried out and once more the ivory started piling up in the wagons.

One afternoon in September Sean and Katrina left the camp and walked along the bank. The land was brown again and smelt of dry grass. The river was pools and white sand. Hell, it's hot! Sean took off his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead. You must be cooking under all those clothes!

No, I'm all right! Katrina was holding his arm. Let's have a swim. You mean with no clothes on?

Katrina looked shocked. Yes, why notV It's rude! Come on! He took her down the bank protesting every step and at a place where boulders screened the water he prised her out of her dress. She was laughing and gasping and blushing all at the same time. He carried her into the pool and she sat down thankfully with the water up to her chin.

How's that feel? Sean asked.

She let her hair down and it floated out round her, she wriggled her toes in the sand and her stomach showed through the water like the back of a white whale. It's nice, she admitted. It feels like silk underwear against my skin. Sean stood over her with only his hat on.

She looked at him. Sit down, she said uncomfortably and looked away from him.

Why? he asked. You know why! . . . you're rude, that's why!

Sean sat down beside her. You should be used to me by now. Well, I'm not.

Sean put his arm round her under the water. You're lovely, he said.

You're my fancy.

She let him kiss her ear.

fWhat's it going to be? He touched the ripe swelling. Boy or girl?

This was currently the favourite topic of conversation.

She was very definite. What shall we call him? Well, if you don't find a predikant soon we'll have to call him the name you're always giving to the servants. Sean stared at her. What do you mean? You know what you call them when you're cross. Bastard, said Sean, then really concerned, Hell, I hadn't thought of that! We'll have to find a priest. No child of mine will be a bastard. We'll have to go back to Louis Trichardt.

You've got about a month, Katrina warned him. My God, we'll never make it. We've left it too late. Sean's face was ghastly. Wait, I've got it. There are Portuguese settlements across the mountains on the coast.

Oh, Sean, but they're Roman Catholics. They all work for the same boss.

How long will it take to cross the mountains? Katrina asked doubtfully.

I don't know. Perhaps two weeks to reach the coast on horseback. On horseback! Katrina looked still more doubtfully. Oh hell you can't ride! Sean scratched the side of his nose. I'll have to go and fetch one. Will you stay on your own? I'll leave Mbejane to look after you!

Yes, I'll be all right! won't go if you don't want me to. It's not that important. It is important, you know it is. I'll be all right, truly I Will Before he left the next morning Sean took Mbejane aside.

You know why you're not coming with me, don't YOU?

Mbejane nodded, but Sean answered his own question. Because there is more important work for you to do here. At night, said Mbejane, I will sleep beneath the Nkosikazils.

wagon. You'll sleep? asked Sean threateningly.

only once in a while and then very lightly, Mbejane grinned. That's better, said Sean.

Sean said goodbye to Katrina. There were no tears, she understood necessity and helped him to a quiet acceptance of it. They stood a long while beside their wagon, holding each other, their lips almost touching as they whispered together and then Sean called for his horse.

Mubi followed him leading the packhorse when he crossed the Saba and when Sean reached the far bank he turned and looked back. Katrina was still standing by their wagon and behind her hovered Mbejane. In her bonnet and green dress she looked very young. Sean waved his hat over his head and then set off towards the mountains.