‘Don’t worry, I’ll be happy to look after him. What will you call him?’
‘Harman.’
She looked down at the child in her arms.
‘Harman,’ she tried the name out. ‘Harman’s a good name for him. Strong.’
‘It’s the name of my grandfather. You will look after him, then, tonight?’
‘Yes.’
He looked at her one last time with his child in her arms. It was what he wanted, only not this way.
‘Good night, then. Here’s the bottle. Don’t make the milk too warm, and mix some water with it.’
She smiled.
‘Don’t worry.’
The baby had fallen asleep, tired from crying, and she put him down while she prepared something for her father. She had just finished feeding her father when the infant woke up. She picked him up and sat down with him on her bed, putting the bottle to his mouth. The cork didn’t feel the same as a nipple, and he turned away, crying, the milk dripping onto his face. She didn’t know what to do. What if she couldn’t feed him? In desperation, she opened the front of her bodice. Her breasts were small, the nipples erect. She was willing to do anything. She stuck one in his mouth. He sucked greedily, and the suction caused strange sensations in her belly and breasts. She could see that the baby would soon discover that the breast was dry, and she let a few drops from the bottle trickle down onto her breast towards the nipple, where his lips sucked them up. She didn’t know if it would help, if it would be too little or too much, or if he would choke. But it worked, and she sat with the bottle poised over her breast, trickling just the right number of drops over her breast. Finally, Harman’s eyes closed, and he slept. She looked down at the soft hair, the small mouth still fastened to her breast. She’d never held a baby in her arms before.
‘You are beautiful, Harman,’ she said softly. ‘One day old, and already you have stolen a heart.’
That night she had little sleep. She did not know where to put Harman—next to her, on top of her, under her arm. And he was awake several times, crying for milk.
Next morning, she was hanging out washing when Roeloff came towards her leading his mare.
‘Did you find her?’ Neeltje asked.
‘I found her tracks. But there’s no good news about the sheep. The raiders divided the flock and went off in two directions to confuse us and to move faster. Twa went north-west after one lot. I told you he would have gone after them. A smaller party went east. Of course, they could have doubled back and be right here in the vicinity.’
‘Which way are you headed?’
‘I’ll go after Zokho, then north. How’s your father?’
‘He drank some soup this morning. I think we’ll hear him talk before the end of the week.’
‘That’s good. And Harman? I hope he wasn’t too much trouble. How did the feeding go?’
She blushed.
‘Not well?’
‘He wouldn’t take the bottle.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Well—I—you will have to make something to fit on the bottle when you come back. I managed. He has a little swelling and redness around his navel, but he slept well. He’s hungry every few hours.’
Roeloff smiled.
‘He sounds greedy. He has his mother’s mouth, yes? And her eyes?’
Neeltje turned back to wringing out clothes and spreading them over the branches of a tree.
He realised he’d said the wrong thing.
‘Neeltje?’
‘If she wants to return to her people, why do you want to bring her back? Perhaps she’s not happy here.’
‘I want to know why she left and why she left Harman by himself. It’s also possible that she was captured.’
Neeltje dried her hands on her apron.
‘I never thought of that. How long will you be?’
‘I don’t know. When I find the sheep.’
‘Come in, and I’ll give you some food to take with you.’
He followed her into the house. Harman was wrapped in blankets, and lying on a pile of folded clothing on the kitchen table. Roeloff looked at the sleeping infant, marvelling at the miracle he and Zokho had created. His own flesh and blood. Who would the baby take after, his father or his mother? Would there be in him something of the man whose name he bore?
‘How much food should I pack?’ Neeltje cut into his thoughts.
‘Enough for three days. Maybe four.’
‘As long as that?’
