When the Lion Feeds c-4 Page 11

  I'm sorry, said the doctor with simplicity, I'm afraid they were both killed. Garrick lay on his mattress and looked down at the Drift. They were clearing the corpses out of the shallows now, splashing as they dragged them to the bank. He remembered the splashing as Chelmsford's army had crossed. Sean and his father had been among the scouts who had led the column, three troops of the Lady-burg Mounted Rifles and sixty men of the Natal Police.

  Chelmsford had used these men who knew the country over which the initial advance was to be made.

  Garrick had watched them go with relief. He could hardly believe the good fortune that had granted him. a squirting dysentery the day before the ultimatum expired and the army crossed the Tugela. The lucky bastards, protested one of the other sick as they watched them go. Garrick was without envy: he did not want to go to war, he was content to wait here with thirty other sick men and a garrison of sixty more to hold the Drift while Chelmsford took his army into Zululand.

  Garrick had watched the scouts fan out from the Drift and disappear into the rolling grassland, and the main body of men and wagons follow them until they too had crawled like a python into the distance and left a wellwom road behind them through the grass.

  He remembered the slow slide of days while they waited at the Drift. He remembered grumbling with the others when they were made to fortify the store and the hospital with bags and biscuit tins filled with sand. He remembered the boredom.

  Then, his stomach tightening, he remembered the messenger. Horseman coming. Garrick had seen him first. Recovered from his dysentery he was doing sentry duty above the Drift. The General's left his toothbrush behind, sent someone back for it, said his companion. Neither of them stood up. They watched the speck coming across the plain towards the river. Coming fast, said Garrick. You'd better go and call the Captain. I suppose so, agreed the other sentry. He trotted up the slope to the store and Garrick stood up and walked down to the edge of the river. His peg sank deep into the mud. Captain says to send him up to the store when he gets here. Garrick's companion came back and stood beside him. Something funny about the way he's riding, said Garrick, he looks tired. He must be drunk. He's falling about in the saddle like it's Saturday night. Garrick gasped suddenly, He's bleeding, he's wounded The horse plunged into the Drift and the rider fen forward onto its neck; the side of his shirt was shiny black with blood, his face was pale with pain and dust. They caught his horse as it came out of the water and the rider tried to shout but his voice was a croak. In the name of God prepare yourselves. The Column's been surrounded and wiped out. They're coming, the whole black howling pack of them. They'll be here before nightfall. My brother, said Garrick.. What happened to my brother? Dead, said the min. Dead, they're all dead. He slid sideways off his horse.

  They came, the impis of Zulu in the formation of the bull, the great black bull whose head and loins filled the plain and whose horns circled left and right across the river to surround them. The pull stamped with twenty thousand feet and sang with ten thousand throats until its voice was the sound of the sea on a stormy day. The sunlight reflected brightly from the spear blades as it came singing to the Tugela. Look! Those in front are wearing the helmets of the Hussars, one of the watchers in the hospital exclaimed. They've been looting Chelmsford's dead. There's one wearing a dress coat and some are carrying carbines. It was hot in the hospital for the roof was corrugatediron and the windows were blocked with sandbags. The rifle slits let in little air. The men stood at the slits, some in pyjamas, some stripped to the waist and sweating in the heat. It's true then, the Column has been massacredThat's enough talking. Stand to your posts and keep your mouths shut. The impis of Zulu crossed the Tugela on a front five hundred yards wide. They churned the surface to white with their crossing. My God! Oh, my God! whispered Garrick as he watched them come. We haven't got a chance, there are so many of them. Shut up. Damn you, snapped the sergeant at the Gatling machine-gun beside him and Garry covered his mouth with his hand.

  Grabbed O'Riley by the neck Shoved his head in a pail of water Rammed that pistol up his sang one of the malaria cases in delirium and somebody else laughed, shrill hysteria in the sound. Here they come! Load! The metallic clashing of rifle mechanism. Hold your fire, men. Fire on command only. The voice of the bull changed from a deep sonorous chant to the shrill ululation of the charge, high-pitched T frenzy of the blood squeal. Steady, men. Steady. Hold it. Hold your fire. Oh, my God! whispered Garrick softly, watching them come black up the slope. Oh, my God! please don't let me die. Ready! The van had reached the wall of the hospital yard. Their plumed head-dresses were the frothy crest of a black wave as they came over the wall. Aim! Sixty rifles lifted and held, aimed into the press of bodies. FireV Thunder, then the strike of bullets into flesh, a sound as though a handful of gravel had been flung into a puddle of mud. The ranks reeled from the blow. The clustered barrels of the Gatling machine-gun jump, jump, jumped as they swung, cutting them down so they fell upon each other, thick along the wall. The stench of burnt black powder was painful to breathe. Load! The bullet-ravaged ranks were re-forming as those from behind came forward into the gaps. AimV

  They were coming again, solid black and screaming halfway across the yard. Fire! Garrick sobbed in the shade of the veranda and pressed the fingers of his right hand into his eye sockets to squeeze out the memory.

  What's the trouble, Cocky? The Cockney rolled painfully onto his side and looked at Garrick.

  Nothing! said Garrick quickly. Nothing! Coming back to you, is it? "What happened? I can only remember pieces of it. What happened! The man echoed his question, What didn't happen! The doctor said - Garrick looked up quickly, He said the General had endorsed my citation. That means Chelmsford's alive. My brother and my father, they must be alive as well! No such luck, Cocky. The Doc's taken a fancy to you you with one leg doing what you did, so he made inquiries about your folk. It's no use. Why? asked Garrick desperately. Surely if Chelmsford's alive they must be too? The little man shook his head. Chelmsford's made a base camp at a place called Isandhlwana. He left a garrison there with all the wagons and supplies. He took a flying column out to raid, but the Zulus circled around him and attacked the base camp, then they came on here to the Drift. As you know, we held them for two days until Chelmsford's flying column came to help us, My folk, what happened to them? Your father was at the Isandhlwana camp. He didn't escape. Your brother was with Chelmsford's colhimn but he was cut off and killed in one of the skirmishes before the m-gin battle. Sean dead? Garrick shook his head. No, it's not possible. They couldn't have killed him. You'd be surprised how easily they did it, said the Cockney. A few inches of blade in the right place is enough for the best of them. But not Sean, you didn't know him. You couldn't understand. He's dead, Cocky. Him and your Pa and seven hundred others. The wonder is we aren't too. The man wriggled into a more comfortable position on his mattress. The General made a speech about our defence here. Finest feat of arms in the annals of British courage, or something like that He winked at Garrick. Fifteen citations for the old V. C.

  you's one of them. I ask you, Cocky, isn't that something? What's your girl friend going to do when you come home with a mucking great gong clanking around on your chest, hey? He stared at Garrick and saw the tears oozing in oily lines down his cheeks. Come on, Cock. You're a bloody hero. He looked away from Garrick's grief. Do you remember that part, do you remember what you did? No, Garrick's voice was husky. Sean. You can't leave me alone. What am I going to do, now that you're gone? I was next to you. I saw it all. I'll tell you about it said the Cockney.

  As he talked so the events came back and fitted into sequence in Garrick's mind. It was on the second day, we'd held off twenty-three charges.

  Twenty-three, was it as many, as that? Garrick had lost count; it might have been but a single surging horror.

  Even now he could taste the fear in the back of his throat and smell it rancid in his own sweat. Then they piled wood against the hospital wall and set fire to it. Zulus comi
ng across the yard carrying bundles of faggots, falling to the rifles, others picking up the bundles and bringing them closer until they too died and yet others came to take their place. Then flames pale yellow in the sunlight, a dead Zulu lying on the bonfire his face and the smell of him mingled with the smoke.

  chaffing, We knocked a hole in the back wall and started to move the sick and wounded out through it and across to the store The boy with the assegai through his spine had shrieked like a girl as they lifted him. Them bloody savages came again as soon as they saw we were pulling out. They from that side. He pointed with his bandaged arm, where the chaps in the store couldn't reach them, and there was only you and I and a couple of others at the loopholes, everyone else was carrying the wounded There had been a Zulu with the blue heron feathers of an Induna in his head-dress. He had led the charge, His shield was dried oxhide dappled black and white, and at his wrists and ankles were bunches of war rattles. Garrick had fired at the instant the Zulu half-turned to beckon to his warriors, the bullet sliced across the tensed muscles of his belly and unzipped it like a purse. The Zulu went down on his hands and knees with his entrails bulging out in a pink and purple mass. They reached the door of the hospital and we couldn't fire on them from the angle of the windows. The wounded Zulu started to crawl towards Garrick, his mouth moving and his eyes fastened on Garrick's face.

  He still had his assegai in his hand. The other Zulus were beating at the door and one of them ran his spear blade through a crack in the woodwork and lifted the bar. The door was open.

  Garrick watched the Zulu crawling towards him through the dust with his pink wet bowels swinging like a pendulum under him. The sweat was running down Garrick's cheeks and dripping off the end of his chin, his lips were trembling. He lifted his rifle and aimed into the Zulu's face. He could not fire. That's when you moved, Cocky. I saw the bar lifted out of its brackets and I knew that in the next second there'd be a mob of them in through the door and we'd stand no chance against their spears at close range. Garrick let go his rifle and it rattled on the concrete floor. He turned away from the window. He could not watch that crippled, crawling thing. He wanted to run, to hide. That was it ;. - to hide. He felt the fluttering start behind his eyes, and his sight began to grey. You were nearest to the door. You did the only thing that could have saved us. Though I know I wouldn't have had the guts to do it. The floor was covered with cartridge cases, brass cylinders shiny and treacherous under foot. Garrick stumbled;

  as he fell he put out his arm. Christ the little Cockney shuddered, to put your arm into the brackets like that, I wouldn't have done -it. Garrick felt his arm snap as the mob of Zulus threw themselves against the door. He hung there staring at his twisted Arm, watching the door tremble and shake as they beat against it. There was no pain and after a while everything was grey and warm and safe. We fired through the door until we had cleared them away from the other side. Then we were able to get your arm free, but you were out cold. Been that way ever since. Garrick stared out across the river. He wondered if they had buried Sean or left him in the grass for the birds.

  Lying on his side Garrick drew his legs up against his chest, his body was curled. Once as a brutal small boy he had cracked the shell of a hermit crab. Its soft fat abdomen was so vulnerable that its vitals showed through the transparent skin.

  It curled its body into the same defensive attitude.

  I reckon you'll get your gong, said the Cockney. Yes, said Garrick. He didn't want it. He wanted Sean back.

  Doctor Van Rooyen gave Ada Courtney his arm as she stepped down from the buggy. In fifty years he had not obtained immunity from other people's sorrow. He had learned only to conceal it: no trace of it in his eyes, or his mouth, or his lined and whiskered face. He's well, Ada. They did a good job on his arm: that is, for military surgeons. It will set straight. When did they arrive? asked Ada. About four hours ago.

  They sent all the Lady-burg wounded back in two wagons. Ada nodded, and he looked at her with the professional shield of indifference, hiding the shock he felt at the change in her appearance. Her skin was as dry and lifeless as the petals of a pressed flower, her mouth had set determinedly against her grief and her widow's weeds had doubled her age. He's waiting for you inside. They walked up the steps of the church and the small crowd opened to let them pass. There were subdued greetings for Ada and the usual funereal platitudes. There were other women there wearing black, with swollen eyes.

  Ada and the doctor went into the cool gloom of the church. The pews had been pushed against the wall to make room for the mattresses. Women were moving about between them and men lay on them. I'm keeping the bad ones here, where I can watch them, the doctor told her. There's Garry. Garrick stood up from the bench on which he was sitting. His arm was slung awkwardly across his chest. He limped forward to meet them, his peg tapped loudly on the stone floor. Ma, I'm he stopped. Sean and Pa I've come to take you home, Garry. Ada spoke quickly, flinching at the sound of those two names. They can't just let them lie out there, they shouldPlease, Garry.

  Let's go home, said Ada. We can talk about it later. We are all very proud of Garry, said the doctor. Yes, said Ada. Please, let's go home, Garry.

  She could feel it there just below the surface and she held it in: so much sorrow confined in so small a place. She turned back towards the door, she mustn't let them see it. She mustn't cry here in front of them, she must get back to out to the buggy and Ada took the reins. Neither of them spoke again until they crossed the ridge and looked down at the homestead. You're the master of Theunis Kraal now, Garry, said Ada softly and Garrick stiffed uneasily on the seat beside her. He didn't want it, he didn't want the medal. He wanted Sean.

  Theunis Kraal.

  Willing hands carried Garrick, hope you don't mind me coming, said Anna, but I had to talk to you. No. I'm glad you did. Truly I'm glad, Garrick assured her earnestly. It's so good to see you again, Anna. It feels like forever since we left. I know, and so much, so much has happened. My Pa and yours. And, and Sean. She stopped. Oh, Garry, I just can't believe it yet. They've told me and told me but I can't believe it. He was so, so alive. Yes said Garrick, he was so alive. He talked about dying the night before he left. I hadn't even thought about it until then. Anna shook her head in disbelief, and I never dreamed it could happen to him.

  Oh, Garry, what am I going to do?

  Garrick turned and looked at Anna. The AnnA he loved, Sean's Anna. But Sean was dead. He felt an idea move within him, not yet formed in words, but real enough to cause a sick spasm of conscience. He shied away from it.

  Oh, Garry. What can I do?

  She was asking for help, the appeal was apparent in her voice. Her father killed at Isandhlwana, her elder brothers still with Chelmsford at Tugela, her mother and the three small children to feed. How blind of him not to see it! Anna, can I help you? just tell me. No, Garry. I don't think anyone can. If it's money -'He hesitated discreetly. I'm a rich man now. Pa left the whole of Theunis Kraal to Sean and 1, and Sean isn't, I She looked at him without answering. I can lend you some to tide you over blushed Garrick, as much as you need. She went on staring at him while her mind adjusted itself. Garrick master of Theunis Kraal, he was rich, twice as rich as Sean would have been. And Sean was dead. Please, Anna. Let me help you. I want to, really I do. He loved her, it was pathetically obvious, and Sean was dead. You will let me, Anna? She thought of hunger and bare feet, dresses washed until you could see through them when you held them to the light, petticoats patched and cobbled. And always the fear, the uncertainty you must live with when you are poor. Garry was rich and alive, Sean was dead. Please tell me you will. Garrick leaned forward and took her arm, he gripped it fiercely in his agitation and she looked into his face. You could see the resemblance, she thought, but Sean had strength where here there was softness and uncertainty. The colour was wrong also, pale sand and paler blue instead of brutal black and indigo. it was as though an artist had taken a portrait and with a few subtle strokes had altered its
meaning completely so entirely different picture. She did as to make it into an not want to think about his leg.

  it's sweet of you, Garry, she said, but we've got a little in the bank and the plot is free of debt. We've got the horses; we can sell them if we have to. what is it then? Please tell me. She knew then what she was going to do. She could not lie to him, it was too late for that. She would have to tell him, but she knew that the truth would not make any difference to him. Well, perhaps a little, but not enough to prevent her getting what she wanted. She wanted to be rich, and she wanted a father for the child she carried within her. Garry, I'm going to have a baby. Garrick's chin jerked up and his breathing jammed and then started again. A baby? Yes, Garrick. I'm pregnant. Whose? Sean's? Yes, Garry. I'm going to have Sean's baby. How do you know, are you sure? I'm sure. Garrick pulled himself out of his chair and limped across the veranda. He stopped against the railing and gripped it with his good hand; the other was still in the sling. His back was turned to Anna and he stared out across the lawns of Theunis Kraal to the lightly-forested slope beyond.