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No dog can resist the concentrated meat smell and taste of biltong.  He

gulped it eagerly.  Twice more Akkers fed him the scraps, and Zulu's

eyes glistened and his soft silky muzzle was damp with saliva.

The waiting women in the shade of the veranda were watching with lively

interest now.  They had seen this happen before with a dog, and they

waited expectantly.

David was in the building, out of sight.  Debra stood blind and

unsuspecting.

Akkers cut a larger piece of the dried meat and offered it to Zulu, but

when he reached for it he pulled his hand away, teasing the dog.  With

his taste for biltong now firmly established, Zulu tried again for the

meat as it was offered.  Again it was pulled away at the last moment.

Zulu's black wet nose quivered with anxiety, and the soft ears were

cocked.

Akkers walked down the steps with Zulu following him eagerly, and at the

bottom he showed the dog the biltong once more, letting him sniff it.

Then he spoke softly but urgently, Get it, boy, and threw the scrap of

biltong at the base of the baboon's pole.  Zulu bounded forward, still

slightly clumsy on his big puppy paws, into the circle of the chain

where the baboon's paws had beaten the earth hard.  He ran on under the

pole and grubbed hungrily for the biltong in the dust.

The bull baboon came out of his ke

dropped the fifteen feet through the air; his limbs were spread and his

jaws were open in a snarl like a great red trap, and the fangs were

vicious, long and yellow and spiked.  He hit the ground silently, and

his muscles bunched as they absorbed the shock and hurled the long lithe

body feet first at the unsuspecting pup.  The baboon crashed into him,

taking him on the shoulder with all the weight of his ninety pounds.

Zulu went down and over, rolling on his back with a startled yelp, but

before he could find his feet or his wits, the baboon was after him.

Debra heard the pup cry, and started forward, surprised but not yet

alarmed.

As he lay on his back, Zulu's belly was unprotected, sparsely covered

with the silken black hair, the immature penis protruding pathetically,

and the baboon went onto him in a crouching leap, pi

powerful furry legs as he bowed his head and buried the long yellow

fangs deep into the pup's belly.

Zulu screamed in dreadful agony, and Debra screamed in sympathy and ran

forward.

Akkers shot out a foot as she passed him and tripped her, sending her

sprawling on her hands and knees.

Leave it, lady, he warned her, still gri

interfere.  The baboon locked its long curved eye teeth into the tender

belly, and then hurled the pup away from it with all the fierce strength

of its four limbs.  The thin wall of the stomach was ripped through, and

the purple ropes of the entrails came out, hanging festooned in the

baboon's jaws.

Again the disembowelled pup screamed, and Debra rolled blindly to her

feet.

David!  she cried wildly.  David, help me!  David came out of the

building ru

glance and snatched up a pick handle from the pile by the door.  He

jumped off the veranda, and in three quick strides he had reached the

pup.

The baboon saw him coming and released Zulu.  With unca

whirled and leapt for the pole, racing upwards to perch on the roof of

the ke

bouncing up and down with excitement and triumph.

David dropped the pick and gently lifted the crawling crippled black

body.  He carried Zulu to the Land-Rover and ripped his bush jacket into

strips as he tried to bind up the torn belly, pushing the hanging

entrails back into the hole with his fist.



David, what is it?  Debra pleaded with him, and as he worked he

explained it in a few terse Hebrew sentences.

Get in, he told her and she clambered into the passenger seat of the

Land-Rover.  He laid the injured labrador in her lap, and ran around to

the driver's seat.

Akkers was back at the doorway of his shop, standing with his thumbs

hooked into his braces, and he was laughing.  The false teeth clucked in

the open mouth as he laughed, rocking back and forth on his heels.

On its ke

mirth.

Hey, Mr. Morgan, Akkers giggled, don't forget your nails!

David swung round to face him, his face felt tight and hot, the

cicatrice that covered his cheeks and forehead were inflamed and the

dark blue eyes blazed with a terrible anger.  He started up the steps.

His mouth was a pale hard slit, and his fists were clenched at his

sides.

Akkers stepped backwards swiftly and reached behind the shop counter. He

lifted out an old double-barrelled shotgun, and cocked both hammers with

a sweep of his thick bony thumb.

Self defence, Mr. Morgan, with witnesses, he giggled with sadistic

relish.  Come one step closer and we will get a look at your guts also.

David paused at the top of the steps, and the gun held in one huge fist,

pointed at his belly.

David, hurry, oh, please hurry, Debra called anxiously from the

Land-Rover, with the weak squirming body of the pup in her lap.

We'll meet again, David's anger had thickened his tongue.

That will be fun, said Akkers, and David turned away and ran down the

steps.

Akkers watched the Land-Rover pull away and swing into the road in a

cloud of dust, before he set the shotgun aside.  He went out into the

sunlight, and the baboon scrambled down from its pole and rushed to meet

him.

It jumped up on to his hip and clung to him like a child.

Akkers took a boiled sweet from his pocket and placed it tenderly

between the terrible yellow fangs.

You lovely old thing, he chuckled, scratching the high cranium with its

thick cap of grey fur and the baboon squinted up at his face with narrow

brown eyes, chattering softly.

Despite the rough surface, David covered the thirty miles back to

Jabulani in twenty-five minutes.  He skidded the vehicle to a halt

beside the hangar, and ran with the pup in his arms to the aircraft.

During the flight Debra nursed him gently in her lap, and her skirts

were sodden with his dark blood.  The pup had quieted, and except for an

occasional whimper now lay still.  Over the W T David arranged for a car

to meet them at Nelspruit airfield and forty-five minutes after take-off

they had Zulu on the theatre table in the veterinary surgeon's clinic.

The veterinary surgeon worked with complete concentration for over two

hours at repairing the torn entrails and suturing the layers of

abdominal muscle.

The pup was so critically injured, and infection was such a real danger,

that they dared not return to Jabulani until it had passed.  Five days

later when they flew home with Zulu still weak and heavily strapped but

out of danger, David altered his flight path to bring them in over the

trading store at Bandolier Hill.

The iron roof shone like a mirror in the sun, and David felt his anger

very cold and hard and determined.

The man is a threat to us, he said aloud.  A real threat to each of us,

and to what we are trying to build at Jabulani.  Debra nodded her

agreement, stroking the pup's head and not trusting herself to speak.

Her own anger was as fierce as David's.  I'm going to get him, he said

softly, and he heard the Brig's voice in his memory.