The Sound of Thunder (56 page)

“The Board-we voted it last week.”

“Very nice.” Sean was looking now at the stock pen where the horses were. A solid barricade of humanity lined the railings, but he saw Dirk climb over and jump down beside Sun Dancer amid a splatter of applause from the onlookers.

“Good-looking lad. ” Dennis was watching Dirk also, but there was something in his tone that added, but I’m glad he’s not mine.

“Thanks. ” The defiance in Sean’s voice was not lost on Denrus and he smiled ironically.

“We’d better go across and talk to the other judges, Garrick is waiting. ” Dennis jerked his head towards the carriage at the end of the line, and although he had been painfully aware of it, Sean looked at it for the first time.

Together with Pye, Erasmus and his father, Michael was standing beside it watching them. Tall and lean in tight black riding-boots, and an open shirt of white silk accentuating the breadth of his shoulders, he leaned against the wheel. Above him Ada and Anna sat together on the rear seat and suddenly Sean felt a twist of anger in his stomach that Ada should be there with them.

“Mother. ” He greeted her without smiling.

“Hello, Sean. ” And he could not fathom the tone of her voice nor her expression. Was it regret, or perhaps a reluctant rejection? For a long minute they held each other’s eyes-until at last Sean had to break, because now, instead of anger, he felt guilty.

But he did not understand the source of his guilt-it was only the sorrowful accusation in Ada’s eyes that had given it to him.

“Anna. ” He greeted her and received in exchange a stiff nod.

“Garry.” Sean tried to smile. He made a movement to lift his right hand, but as he did so he knew it would be rejected, for the same accusation that he had seen in Ada’s eyes was also in Garry’s. He turned with relief to Michael.

“Hello, Mike. You know you’re going to get the pants thrashed off you?

“I’m going to make you eat those words without salt! ” and they laughed together easily, laughed with such obvious joy in each other that Anna moved restlessly in her seat and spoke sharply.

“Can’t we get this over with, Ronny?”

“Yes,” Ronny Pye agreed hastily. “Well, then. Where Is young Dirk? We’d better go and find him.”

In a group they left the women and moved through the crowd towards the stock pen where Dirk stood laughing with two girls that Sean recognized as daughters of one of the factory foremen.

They were both looking up at Dirk and reacting with such unashamed adoration that Sean felt a lift of indulgent pride. Casually Dirk dismissed the girls and came across to meet them.

All set, Pa.”

“So I see,” Sean gruffed, and waited for Dirk to show courtesy to the men with him, but Dirk ignored them and spoke only to Ronny Pye.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Well, then. A contest between Garry Courten ey’s colt Grey Weather and Sean Courtney’s filly Sun Dancer. An honour match with no stake put up by the owners. Agreed?

“Right,” said Sean.

Garry opened his mouth and then closed it firmly and nodded.

He was sweating a little. He unfolded the handkerchief in his hand and wiped his forehead.

“The distance approximately five miles around four points.

The points being firstly the posts that have been erected on this field, secondly the northeastern boundary marker of the farm Theuniskraal. ” Ronny pointed at the crest of the escarpment that stood above them, its slope golden with grass in the morning sun and smeared with streaks of dark green bush. “Thirdly, the No. 3 dip-tank of Mahobo’s Kloof farm, which you can’t see from here as it is behind those trees.” Ronny’s arm described a long arc along the crest of the escarpment and stopped pointing at the spires of a clump of saligna gums. “But both of you know it?” “Sure,” agreed Dirk, and Michael nodded. “The fourth and finishing-point is the same as the starting-point-here. ” He jerked his thumb at the two posts that fluttered gay with flags.

Stewards have been posted at the Theuniskraal boundary and the dip-tank-make sure You pass on the far side of them.

The judges are Messrs. Petersen, Erasmus and myself. All and any dispute regarding the running or interpretation of the rules will be decided by us. - . .” Ronny went on talking and Sean felt. his excitement mounting from his stomach and beginning to tingle along his forearms. It was taking a hold on all of them now, even Ronny’s voice had an edge to it. Though Sean did not understand that the fox like eagerness of his face came from the knowledge that this was a contest in which he stood to gain more than any of them. But Garrick understood also, and his eyes watched Ronny’s lips hypnotically.

“That’s it, then, ” Ronny finished and then to the riders,

“Get saddled up, and bring your horses to the start. ” The judges walked away and left the four Courtneys standing together.

“Sean Garry spoke first, his eyes were stricken. “I think you should know … ” but he did not finish.

“What?” Sean asked abruptly, and at the tone of his voice Garrick straightened up. The thing in his eyes changed shape, and became what Sean had never expected to see there-pride.

“It doesn’t matter. ” Garry turned away and walked purposefully towards his horse, and there was a spring in his stride and a set to his shoulders.

“Good luck, Mike.” Sean punched his arm.

“And the same to you.” Michael started after Garrick, then stopped and turned back to Sean. “Whatever anyone else says, Sean, I know you didn’t plan this. ” Then he was striding away.

“What the hell did he mean by that?” puzzled Sean, but Dirk cut into his thoughts.

“Why did you have to do that, Pa? ” he demanded.

“What?” Sean looked at him uncomprehendingly.

“Give him luck. Why did you have to give him luck? I’m riding for you-not him. I’m your son-not him!”

The two riders moved together towards the start, and buzzing with excitement the crowd went with them.

Sean walked beside Sun Dancer, with Dirk leaning attentively from the saddle to listen to him.

“‘rake it gently to the swamp, don’t push her for she’ll need all her steam in the mud. Michael will gain there, that colt is strong in the leg, but heavy. Follow him and let him break a path for you. Out of the swat rip you can catch up and pass him on the slope, push hard there. You must lead him to the top and hold your lead along the crest to the dip-tank.

“All right, Pa.”

“Now, when you start down again keep well out beyond the Van Essen plantation on to hard ground.-that way you can cut the edge of the swamp. My guess is that Mike will come straight down and plough through the middle-but you must take the longer route-and use Sun Dancees speed against Grey Weather’s strength. ” They had reached the starting-posts and the crowd scattered and spread away to line the ropes. An open funnel of humanity faced the two horsemen, then the swamp with its deceptively lush papyrus grass concealing the glutinous mud holes Beyond it the great soar of the escarpment. A long course. A hard course.

“Are both of you ready?” called Ronny Pye from the sidelines.

“Clear the field, please, Sean.”

Sean put his hand on Dirk’s knee.

“Let’s see what you can do, boy. ” Then he ducked under the ropes into the crowd.

Sun Dancer was skittering nervously, coming up on her back legs and throwing her head so that the mane flew red-gold in the sunlight.

She was sweating in dark patches on her shoulders.

Michael was circling Grey Weather, keeping him moving gently, leaning forward and patting his neck, talking to him so that he switched his ears, cocking them half back to listen.

“Quiet, please, everybody! ” Dennis was using a megaphone, and the buzz of voices descended into an expectant rusding.

“You’re under starter’s orders now,” he shouted at the riders.

“Turn wide, and walk up together.”

They swung away from the posts, and came together. Dirk touched Sun Dancer with the spur and she jumped back thrusting her quarters into Michael’s leg.

“Keep your bloody animal under control,” he snarled at Michael.

“Don’t crowd me!”

“Are you nervous, Dirkie? ” Obediently Michael wheeled his mount aside.

“Damn you! -I’ll show you whos nervous,” and Sun Dancer threw her head in protest, as Dirk sawed her with the curb.

“Come round, swing them round.” Dennis’s voice through the megaphone boomed distortedly.

They turned in line and started walking up, twenty yards from the start, two horses with the sunlight glowing on their polished skins.

Pale gold and dark red. The crowd sighed softly like wind in the grass.

Ten paces and Sun Dancer was pushing forward, lengthening her stride, crabbing a little.

“Hold your line! Keep together,” Dennis cautioned them, and Dirk yanked her back roughly. The rims of his nostrils were flared and white with tension.

Michael moved up beside him, holding his hands low. The big red colt stepping high in the exaggerated action of an animal under restraint.

Quickening together over the last five paces, their riders hunching lower in the saddles, they came to the posts.

“Go! ” bellowed Dennis, and

“Go! ” roared a hundred voices.

Still in line, matching each other’s stride, they changed from a walk into an easy, free, swinging canter. Both Dirk and Michael rising slightly in their stirrups to hold them from headlong flight.

Half a mile ahead lay the swamp and beyond it five miles of mountain and rough, rocky ground, of don ga and thombush.

They cantered down between the yelling lines and out of the funnel into the open.

The crowd broke and scattered to various points of vantage and Sean ran with them, un slinging his binocular-case, chuckling with excitement in the general confusion of shouts and laughter.

Ruth was waiting for him beside the Rolls and he caught her around the waist and lifted her on to the bonnet.

“Sean, you’ll scratch the paintwork, ” she protested, as she clutched at her hat and teetered dangerously on the high, round bonnet.

“The hell with the paintwork, ” he laughed as he climbed up beside her and she clung to him for support. “There they are!”

Far out across the field the two horses ran down towards the bright green of the swamp. Sean lifted and focused his binoculars, and suddenly they were so close he expected to hear the drumming of the hooves. Grey Weather was pulling ahead, forcing powerfully with his great boulders lunging into each stride and Sun Dancer trailed him with her neck arched against the pressure of the bit. On her back Dirk sat upright with his elbows pressed into his flanks as he held her.

“The little bugger is listening to advice,” Sean growled. “I quite expected him to be using the whip already.”

Across the distance that separated them Sean could feel as a tangible thing Dirk’s determination to win, he could see it in the way he held his shoulders, he could see it in the rigid lines of his arms.

But what he did not see were the harsh lines of hatred in Dirk’s face as he stared at Michael’s back ahead of him.

The beat of hooves changed its tone, no longer ringing on hard ground, but dulling as they reached the swamp. Now lumps of damp clay flew from Grey Weather’s hooves and a piece hit Dirk’s chest and sprayed dirt on the white silk of his shirt. Sun Dancer’s gait altered as she felt the soft ground.

“Easy, girl. Hey there, girl,” Dirk whispered and held her firmly with his knees to give her confidence. The grass brushed his stirrups and ahead of him Grey Weather splashed into the first mud hole, plunged through it and into the swamp proper.

The tall papyrus engulfed him.

“The old man was right,” Dirk smiled for the first time.

Michael was forcing a path through the reeds, Battening them for Dirk to follow with half the effort. TWice Grey Weather sunk to his belly in potholes of black glue, rearing and struggling to free himself while Dirk skirted them.

Both horses were shiny with mud, and their riders were soaked to the waist and splattered above. The swamp stank like an animal cage and marsh gas erupted sullenly as they disturbed it. Clouds of insects rose about them, a sakabula bird fled shrieking as they ploughed through the papyrus. One of the razor leaves lashed Michael’s cheek and a thread of blood ran down his jaw washing the blobs of mud with it and dripped on to his shirt.

Then suddenly the ground firmed under them, the solid papyrus broke into clumps, thinned and was left behind and Grey Weather led them out on to the first slope of the escarpment. He was running heavily now, and grunting with each stride, while Sun Dancer moved up beside him.

“You’re finished!” Dirk shouted at Michael as they drew level.

“I’ll see you at the finish-line,” and he leaned forward in the saddle and gave Sun Dancer the spurs and the whip together.

Without pressing his horse Michael angled him off towards the right, letting him move under slack rein to pick his own way and he began the first leg of a series of zigzags that would take him to the top.

On the steep ground below the crest Dirk used the whip incessantly, and Sun Dancer went up in a series of scrambling leaps with the loose rock rolling under her hooves. The sweat had washed away the mud from her shoulders and she landed with less control at each jump. “Pull, you bitch. Pull!” Dirk shouted at her, and looked back in agony at Michael’s sedate ascent. He was two hundred yards below and coming steadily.

Dirk’s movement caught Sun Dancer off balance and she landed awkwardly at the next jump, her hooves scrabbled and she started to fall. Dirk kicked his feet from the stirrups and jumped with the reins still in his hands. The instant he landed he leaned back on the reins to hold her, but she was down on her knees now, sliding back and she pulled Dirk down with her on to the level place below.

They struggled together and when at last he got her on her feet she was trembling with terror, dust and pieces of dry grass Coated her muddy legs.

“Damn you! Damn you, you clumsy bitch,” whispered Dirk as he ran his hands over her hocks to check for damage. He glanced back at Michael and found him much closer now.

“Oh, God!” he blurted, snatched up Sun Dancer’s reins and ran at the slope dragging her after him. Dirk came out on the Crest with sweat pouring down his face and soaking through his shirt. Saliva had dried to a thick gummy froth in his mouth and he was panting harshly-but he had held on to his lead and Sun Dancer was over her trembling fit. She had recovered sufficiently to cavort a little as he mounted.