only one with a knife.’ He grinned, a straight line. ‘But first we must get our things from Dhlamini’s room. From now on we live in the bush. The flames of hell will seek vengeance when Shozi dies.’
Chapter 16
Moses Shozi’s house
As the three guerillas left for Malakazi , Moses Shozi reclined contentedly in the lounge of his house, replenished by a fill of low-grade stewing steak and a vegetable mash. Setlaba, his large angular frame equally recharged by the meal, lingered dutifully nearby.
‘The boy should’ve shown by now,’ said Shozi irritably. ‘It was a simple job.’ He scowled, bowing his head in thought.
Setlaba was pleased when Shozi’s anger was elsewhere, when an accusing finger could not be directed at him. ‘He’ll be back,’ he said sagely. ‘Movements of men like that are as unpredictable as a woman’s love.’
Shozi propped a cushion behind him, clearing phlegm with an angry cough. ‘Where’re the men?’
‘I se nt some to Umbali. The rest are cleaning the rooms.’
‘During the night I want one of them behind the house,’ said Shozi after a while. ‘Not knowing exactly where these guerillas are makes me nervous. Their type never lies down.’
‘They’re scum,’ said Setlaba. ‘The ANC military arm, Umkhonto we Sizwe, is finished.’
‘Not yet,’ replied Shozi. ‘Some of them haven’t got what they want. Mass conflict on our natural territory between us and the Xhosa has subsided from the exchanges a year ago, but elements in their military are as virulent as ever. If these men succeed they’ll have what is ours by birth.’
Chapter 17
Moses Shozi’s house
In the early afternoon with the sun past its peak the three guerillas reached the room in Malakazi. They gathered their bedrolls and spare clothing and were again in the bush retracing their steps to Shozi’s house. When they reached a point near where the youth lay in his grave they left the trail and settled.
‘After Shozi’s dead we’ll hole up here,’ said Nguban e, lying on a bed he had shaped for himself. ‘When the dust is no more, we’ll go to Umbali for the guns.’
Nofomela and Ngwenya also spread themselves out on the earth after clearing patches in the grass and they were soon asleep, shaded from the sun by the leafy branches of a tree. They slept soundly until the late evening then built a low fire from dry sticks and roasted a chicken they had caught in the township.
Shortly after eleven o’clock they cleared the site, scattering the fire and stuffing their belongings under the rocks. They resumed their journey, keeping to the track for most of the way until they began their descent into the gangster’s valley.
There were no lights on in the house and quarters as they came from beyond the kopje and to the bank of the stream. Ngubane studied the house while he toyed idly with the hilt of his knife. Then he went into the grass followed shortly by the others at intervals. When he was in line with the house he parted from his comrades and ran up to the end wall, stopping flat on the roughened surface. He held back a minute before feeling himself along to the corner. Diagonally across the yard he saw Ngwenya appear from the bush next to the quarters and then closer, over a bit, Nofomela.
Cautiously he looked round, squinting to pen etrate the dark more easily, and could see the outline of a porch. He was about to move when Nofomela waved urgently, pointing ahead. Signalling that he had seen him Ngubane looked into the shadow, meticulously taking in every inch. He saw nothing and went carefully down the wall. He was beginning to think Nofomela had gone mad when he saw a man squatting next to a voluminous earthen pot, his head hanging so his chin touched his chest.
Ngubane watched the figure for a while. He thought about trying elsewhere but decided the guard was still a threat. He was five metres away and he judged how quickly he could cover the distance. For seconds he
Chapter 16
Moses Shozi’s house
As the three guerillas left for Malakazi , Moses Shozi reclined contentedly in the lounge of his house, replenished by a fill of low-grade stewing steak and a vegetable mash. Setlaba, his large angular frame equally recharged by the meal, lingered dutifully nearby.
‘The boy should’ve shown by now,’ said Shozi irritably. ‘It was a simple job.’ He scowled, bowing his head in thought.
Setlaba was pleased when Shozi’s anger was elsewhere, when an accusing finger could not be directed at him. ‘He’ll be back,’ he said sagely. ‘Movements of men like that are as unpredictable as a woman’s love.’
Shozi propped a cushion behind him, clearing phlegm with an angry cough. ‘Where’re the men?’
‘I se nt some to Umbali. The rest are cleaning the rooms.’
‘During the night I want one of them behind the house,’ said Shozi after a while. ‘Not knowing exactly where these guerillas are makes me nervous. Their type never lies down.’
‘They’re scum,’ said Setlaba. ‘The ANC military arm, Umkhonto we Sizwe, is finished.’
‘Not yet,’ replied Shozi. ‘Some of them haven’t got what they want. Mass conflict on our natural territory between us and the Xhosa has subsided from the exchanges a year ago, but elements in their military are as virulent as ever. If these men succeed they’ll have what is ours by birth.’
Chapter 17
Moses Shozi’s house
In the early afternoon with the sun past its peak the three guerillas reached the room in Malakazi. They gathered their bedrolls and spare clothing and were again in the bush retracing their steps to Shozi’s house. When they reached a point near where the youth lay in his grave they left the trail and settled.
‘After Shozi’s dead we’ll hole up here,’ said Nguban e, lying on a bed he had shaped for himself. ‘When the dust is no more, we’ll go to Umbali for the guns.’
Nofomela and Ngwenya also spread themselves out on the earth after clearing patches in the grass and they were soon asleep, shaded from the sun by the leafy branches of a tree. They slept soundly until the late evening then built a low fire from dry sticks and roasted a chicken they had caught in the township.
Shortly after eleven o’clock they cleared the site, scattering the fire and stuffing their belongings under the rocks. They resumed their journey, keeping to the track for most of the way until they began their descent into the gangster’s valley.
There were no lights on in the house and quarters as they came from beyond the kopje and to the bank of the stream. Ngubane studied the house while he toyed idly with the hilt of his knife. Then he went into the grass followed shortly by the others at intervals. When he was in line with the house he parted from his comrades and ran up to the end wall, stopping flat on the roughened surface. He held back a minute before feeling himself along to the corner. Diagonally across the yard he saw Ngwenya appear from the bush next to the quarters and then closer, over a bit, Nofomela.
Cautiously he looked round, squinting to pen etrate the dark more easily, and could see the outline of a porch. He was about to move when Nofomela waved urgently, pointing ahead. Signalling that he had seen him Ngubane looked into the shadow, meticulously taking in every inch. He saw nothing and went carefully down the wall. He was beginning to think Nofomela had gone mad when he saw a man squatting next to a voluminous earthen pot, his head hanging so his chin touched his chest.
Ngubane watched the figure for a while. He thought about trying elsewhere but decided the guard was still a threat. He was five metres away and he judged how quickly he could cover the distance. For seconds he
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