‘Come and join us, man,’ Joubert said. ‘We want to hear more about those bosjesmans.’
‘Let him go,’ Willem Kloot said. ‘He won’t add anything to the conversation.’
Roeloff said goodnight and left them. Had he heard an odd tone in his father’s voice? He found the newspaper and book on his bed, and wanted to ask Vinkie where she’d got it, but he didn’t want to go back to the kitchen. He leafed through the newspaper, amazed at the headlines, then picked up the book. The writer’s name jumped out at him. Krisjan Kloot! He couldn’t believe it. Oupa Harman had spoken the truth. He fingered the fineness of the paper, and the cover, then opened the book. An index listed the contents and he saw that it was a book about travellers to the Cape. He settled himself on the bed to read, but was so tired that his eyes closed and he was asleep before he’d finished the first page.
A short while later Sanna walked behind the reed partition carrying a plate of food for Roeloff, only to find him asleep on the bed, wearing only his pants. The book had fallen on the floor. She picked it up and smiled. She knew about the gift from the young grandson. This book would be read over and over again. It had started to rain, so she pulled the blanket over Roeloff. She touched his hair, still damp from the bath. It reminded her of when he was young, when his mother had bathed him and she had dried him off. He was still beautiful, but he was no longer a child. Was it true about him and Zokho? Of course it was. The girl had had foolish notions, and Roeloff had been led by his tail. It was better that she had gone away. Roeloff had in him something which attracted girls like bees to a honey hole, then, when he got his hands sticky, he didn’t know how to beat them off without breaking their wings. She knew from the glow on Soela’s face and the way her eyes followed Roeloff that the two of them had been together. She also knew from the twitch at the corner of David’s mouth and his forced gaiety at the table that he had seen them. She’d come to bring Roeloff something to eat and to warn him.
The liquor had its effect on the entire family, and no one remembered when the Jouberts left, who locked up, or at what time everyone went to bed.
At dawn there was a frenzied knocking on the back door.
‘My grootbaas, kom!’
‘What is it, Hennerik?’
‘Ooo, Basie, ooo …’ and he bolted down the hill like a frightened animal.
Willem pulled on his pants and followed. Seeing a group of nervous, fidgety Koi-na outside the barn, he was gripped by a horrible foreboding. Then he saw the congealed pool of blood at the door.
‘What the …’
He took a deep breath to calm himself. He didn’t want to go in. He couldn’t. Not one of his horses—not Boerhaan! He braced himself and stepped into the barn. A ribbon of pain shot across his chest. Boerhaan’s stall was spattered with blood, and the horse lay on his side, his throat slit and his eyes open in death.
‘Get Roeloff and David!’
Hennerik scampered up to the house.
Roeloff arrived first. ‘What’s wrong?!’ He looked at the blood, then entered the barn. The words died in his throat.
‘You promised you would look after him,’ Willem hissed.
Roeloff looked at his father in confusion.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You were drunk last night.’
‘Are you saying I did this?’
‘I’m saying there’s blood leading out of this stable. Hottentots don’t wear shoes.’
Roeloff was stunned by the accusation.
‘You think I did this to my own stallion?’
‘Someone did! Someone who’s sick in his head!’ He looked at the frightened faces of the Koi-na. ‘I want to know who committed this crime. Did you see or hear anything last night, or this morning?’
The Koi-na looked at one another.
‘Speak!’
‘It’s not us, Grootbaas,’ Sanna spoke on their behalf. ‘That’s a devil horse. He would make a noise if we came near him. You have to be strong to kill him.’
‘We should search the premises,’ David said, coming up behind them. ‘Two or more of them could have done it.’
‘Why would they want to kill Boerhaan?’ Roeloff asked.
‘Don’t ask me. You’re the one who knows what goes on in their heads. Maybe it’s you, Roff. You came out here last night.’
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘He went straight to bed,’ Willem said.
‘No, Pa. He got up in the middle of the night to relieve himself from all that drinking he did. I saw him come out here myself.’
‘That’s a lie and you know it!’
‘And where were you if you saw him?’ Willem asked.
‘In bed. He woke me up with the noise he made.’
‘Did you come out here, Roff?’
‘You think I could do such a thing, Pa?’
Willem Kloot looked at Roeloff. There was a lot he could say—what Roeloff had done with Soela in the barn had spun round and round in his head all night, and still plagued him. To remind Roeloff would be to embarrass his other son. David could maintain his dignity if he thought no one else knew, and Willem wasn’t going to give anything away. But if Willem Kloot was stunned by one son’s behaviour, he was confused by the other’s. David had given no indication that he’d seen the girl he was to marry in the sexual act with his brother, and David wasn’t one to restrain himself.
