To hell with Cronjé. Ingrid Winterbach

in this an opportunity to make a run for it.”

      “Probably thought they might as well pray at home,” Ben says.

      Gert Smal snorts. “Deserters,” he says, looking at Ben and Reitz, who make a point of not reacting to his taunt.

      “No war can be won with deserters,” Gert Smal declares bitterly, and Ben and Reitz glance at each other surreptitiously.

      The owl hoots again. “Spotted eagle-owl,” says Ben.

      Japie Stilgemoed presses on, now that he has begun.

      “During one trip we lost a great many horses, some to horse-sickness. On another occasion three horses were struck by lightning. The number of dismounted men was growing all the time – there was too little room on the wagons for everyone.”

      “Never seen a dead horse myself,” Reitz tells Ben softly. “Never seen a horse or a mule that has died of horse-sickness being dragged away.”

      Ben shows no reaction, continues to listen politely to Japie Stilgemoed.

      “And everywhere,” Japie Stilgemoed continues, “the dismal sight of burned and ruined farmhouses – the work of the Khakis.”

      “Oh no,” Reitz whispers to Ben, “I don’t have the strength to listen to this.”

      Ben’s nostrils flare almost imperceptibly, the only evidence of his slight irritation. “Give him a chance,” he whispers. “He needs to tell his story.”

      “One day,” Japie Stilgemoed says, “we came across a swarm of flying ants. We’d never seen anything like it before. They crawled into everything.”

      “Oh no,” Reitz repeats in a whisper. He can neither ignore nor explain his growing exasperation with Japie Stilgemoed.

      “Sometimes it rained all night and the men would sleep in ant hills,” Japie continues, unperturbed. “I kept urging myself to endure the ordeal with patience. Of the future I asked nothing more – as I still do today – than to be reunited with my loved ones.”

      At the mention of loved ones a great silence falls upon everyone, interrupted suddenly by the yellow dog, which utters a low growl, and raises the hackles on her back. An inspection of their immediate surroundings reveals nothing. The dog calms down and shortly afterwards everyone crawls into his shelter. Everyone except Ben and Reitz, who enjoy the warmth of the flames a little longer while each makes a final entry in his journal.