‘They ate it.’
‘They killed two sheep in two days?’ David asked incredulously.
‘Didn’t you say they were savages?’
‘You probably gave it to them.’
Roeloff didn’t bother to answer his brother. He was tired and dirty, and all he wanted to do was stable his stallion and go inside to sleep.
‘Were they the ones who stole from Oom Jan?’ Willem asked.
‘No.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I asked.’
‘And took them at their word.’
‘They knew I would do nothing, whether they had stolen from him or not. They had no reason to lie.’
‘Because you don’t really care for Oom Jan, do you,’ David accused. ‘Not for any of the Jouberts, except maybe one who pays no attention to you.’
Roeloff looked at him, then gave a short laugh.
‘What’s that laugh for? It’s true, isn’t it?’
Roeloff started to unsaddle Boerhaan.
‘She’s with you because I won’t have her.’
David came forward to strike him, and Willem stepped quickly between his sons.
‘That’s enough! For God’s sake, what’s the matter with you two? You haven’t seen each other in weeks and the first thing you do is fight. The Jouberts are coming to have a meal with us. You know why they’re coming—a special occasion. It’s the engagement supper tonight. Go inside and clean yourself up, Roff. There’s water for baths. You go first.’
Having the first bath was an honour. The water was hot and the tub clean.
‘I’m too tired,’ and he started to walk away with Boerhaan.
‘Roeloff?’
It was seldom his father called him by his full name.
‘Yes, Pa?’
‘If we don’t stand together as whites, we won’t last. You can count on Oom Jan, no matter what his manner is. We’re all in this together.’
‘He’s also one who goes into his Koi-na’s huts at night.’
‘What?’
Roeloff smiled.
‘Take a look at the servant’s baby. His hair’s straighter than yours. They even call him Kleinjan.’
David watched with satisfaction. It was only a matter of time before his father lost patience with Roeloff.
But David was wrong. Willem’s mood held. What Willem hadn’t said was that he’d regretted sending Roeloff and Twa off on their own. He’d put Roeloff at risk, knowing the hunters’ readiness with the arrow, and the disadvantage of a gun that needed reloading after every shot. David, by his stubborn strength, would survive in the veld. Roeloff relied more on instinct than strength. His courage was dangerous.
By evening, Willem and David, smelling of hair pomade and carbolic soap, sat stiff and grand with a half-naked Roeloff on the stoep drinking brandy, watching the Joubert wagon approach.
‘Go wash yourself, man. I’ve told you three times now,’ Willem Kloot said. ‘You stink. Don’t let the Joubert women see you like this.’
The sensibilities of the Joubert women were Roeloff’s last concern. Sweaty and foul-smelling from the heat and grime of the veld, the fatigue of the journey had claimed him. Already the clouds dancing overhead made him want to close his eyes and just drift off.
‘Did you hear what I said?’
Roeloff tipped the last drops into his mouth.
‘Don’t worry, Pa, I’ll make myself scarce in a minute. I won’t embarrass the family.’
David recognised the grumpiness. One more drink and Roeloff would grunt like an aardvark.
‘More?’
‘Yes,’ Roeloff smiled, holding out his mug. Right then he was enormously fond of his brother, even though a part of him registered that David wanted him drunk.
‘Don’t give him more to drink. Here they come. Go on—get a move on, now!’
