When The Lion Feeds Part 23

She went. What's wrong; old Duff V Duff flashed his death's head grin across the table at Sean. The man wants to know what's wrong, tell himThree pounds sixteen s.h.i.+llings, said Sean and Francois looked puzzled. I don't understand. He means we're broke, flat broke. Gott, I'm sorry to hear that, Duff, I thought you were going good. I've heard the mill running all this month, I thought you'd be rich by now. The mill's been running all right and we've recovered enough gold to block a flea's backside. But why, man? You are working the Leader Reef, aren't YOU?

I'm beginning to think this Leader Reef of yours is a bedtime story.

Francois peered into his gla.s.s thoughtfully. How deep are you? We've got one incline shaft down about fifty feet. No sign of the Leader? Duff shook his head and Francois went on. You know when I first spoke to you a lot of what I said was just guessing.

Duff nodded. Well, I know a bit more about it now. What I am going to tell you is- for you alone, I'll lose my job if it gets out, you understand?

Duff nodded again. So far the Leader Reef has only been found at two places. We've got it on the Jack and Whistle and I know the Heyns brothers have struck it on the Cousin Jock Mine. Let me draw it for you. He picked up a knife and drew in the gravy on the bottom of Sean's plate. This is the Main Reef running fairly straight. Here I am, here is the Cousin Jock and here you are in between us. Both of us have found the Leader and you haven't. My guess is it's there all right, you just don't know where to look.

At the far end of the Jack and Whistle claims the Main Reef and the Leader are running side by side two feet apart but by the time they reach the boundary nearest to the Candy Deep they've opened up to seventy feet apart. Now on the boundary of the Cousin Jock they're back to fifty feet apart. To me it seems that the two reefs form the shape of a long bow, like this. He drew it in. The Main Reef is the string and the Leader Reef is the wood. I'm telling you, Duff, if you cut a trench at right-angles to the Main Reef you'll find it, and when you do you can buy me a drink They listened gravely and when Francois finished Duff leaned back in his chair. If we'd known this a month ago!

Now how are we going to raise the money to cut this new trench and still keep the mill running?

We could sell some of our equipment, suggested Sean. We need it, every sc.r.a.p of it, and besides if we sold one spade the creditors would be on us like a pack of wolves, bowling for their money. I'd make you a loan if I had it, but with what Mr Hradsky pays me -'Francois shrugged. You'll need about two hundred pounds. I haven't got it. Candy came back to the table in time to hear Francois's last remark. What's this all about? Can I tell her, Francois? If you think it will do any good. Candy listened, then thought for a moment. Well, I've just bought ten plots of ground in Johannesburg this new Government village down the valley, so I'm short myself.

But I could let you have fifty pounds if that would help We. never borrowed money from a lady before, it'll be a new experience. Candy, I love you. I wish you meant that said Candy, but luckily for Duff his hearing failed him completely just as Candy spoke. He went on hurriedly. We'll need another hundred and fifty or so, let's hear your suggestions, gentlemen!

There was a long silence, then Duff started to smile and he was looking at Sean.

Don't tell me, let me guess, Sean forestalled him. You're going to put me out to stood? Close, but not quite right. How are you feeling, laddie? Thank you, I'm all right. Istrong? lYes. Brave? Come on, Duff, let's have it. I don't like that look in your eye.

Duff pulled a notebook out of his pocket and wrote in it with a stump of pencil. Then he tore out the page and handed it to Sean. We'll have posters like this put up in every canteen on the goldfields. Sean read it: ON NEW YEAR'S DAY MR SEAN COURTNEY HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE TRANSVAAL REPUBLIC WILL STAND TO MEET ALL COMERS IN FRONT OF CANDY'S HOTEL FOR

A PURSE OF FIFTY POUNDS ASIDE.

Spectators Fee, 2s. All Welcome.

Candy was reading it over his shoulder. She squeaked. That's wonderful. I'll have to hire extra waiters to serve drinks and I'll run a buffet luncheon. I suppose I could charge two s.h.i.+llings a head? I'll fix the posters, Francois was not to be outdone, and I'll send a couple of my chaps down to put up a ring. We'll close the mill down until New Year, Sean will have to get a lot of rest. We'll put him on light training only. No drinking, of course, and plenty of sleep, said Duff. It's all arranged then, is it? asked Sean. All I've got to do is go in there and get beaten to a pulp? We're doing this for you, laddie, so that you can be rich and famous. Thank you, thank you very muchYou like to fight, don't you? When I'm in the mood. Don't worry, I'll think up some dirty names to call you get you worked up in no time. How are you feeling? Duff asked for the sixth time that morning.

No change since five minutes ago, Sean rea.s.sured him.

Duff pulled out his watch, stared at it, held it to his ear and looked surprised that it was still ticking. We've got the challengers lined up on the veranda. I've told Candy to serve them free drinks, as much as they want. Every minute we can wait here gives them a little longer to take on a load of alcohol. Francois is collecting the gate money in my valise; as you win each bout the stakes will go into it as well. I've got Mbejane stationed at the mouth of the alley beside the Hotel. If there's a riot one of us will throw the bag to him and he'll head for the long gra.s.s. Sean was stretched out on Candy's bed with his hands behind his head. He laughed. I can find no fault with your planning. Now for pity's sake calm down, man. You're making me nervous. The door burst open and Duff leapt out of his chair at the crash. It was Francois, he stood in the doorway holding his chest. My heart! he panted. This is doing my heart no good. What's happening outside? Duff demanded.

we've collected over fifty pounds gate money already.

There's a mob up on the roof that haven't paid, but every time I go near them they throw bottles at me Francois c.o.c.ked his head on one side. Listen to them. The noise of the crowd was barely softened by the flimsy walls of the Hotel. They won't wait much longer, you'd better come out before they start looking for you. Sean stood up. I'm ready.

Francois hesitated. Duff, you remember Fernandes, that Portuguese from Kimberley? Oh no! Duff antic.i.p.ated him. Don't tell me he's here. Francois nodded. I didn't want to alarm you but some of the local boys clubbed in and telegraphed south for him. He arrived on the express coach half an hour ago. I had hoped he wasn't going to make it in time, but - He shrugged.

Duff looked at Sean sadly. Bad luck, laddie. Francois tried to soften the blow. I told him it was first come first served. He's sixth in the line so Sean will be able to make a couple of hundred quid anyway, then we can always say he's had enough and close the contest. Sean was listening with interest. This Fernandes is dangerous? They were thinking of him when they invented that word, Duff told him. Let's go and have a look at him Sean led the way out of Candy's room and down the pa.s.sage. Did you get hold of a scale to weigh them with? Duff asked Francois as they hurried after Sean. No, there's not one on the fields that goes over a hundred and fifty pounds, but I have Gideon Barnard outside. How does that help us? He's a cattle dealer, all his life he's been judging animals on the hoof. He'll give us the weights to within a few pounds Duff chuckled. That'll have to do then. Besides I doubt we'll be claiming any world t.i.tles Then they were out on the veranda blinking in the brightness of the sun and the thunder of the crowd. Which is the Portuguese? whispered Sean, he needn't have asked. The man stood out like a gorilla in a cage of monkeys. A s.h.a.ggy coating of hair began on his shoulders and continued down his back and chest, completely hiding his nipples and exaggerating the bulge of his enormous belly.

The crowd opened a path for Sean and Duff and they walked along it to the ring. Hands slapped Sean's back but the well-wishes were drowned in the churning sea of sound. Jock Heyns was the referee, he helped Sean through the ropes and ran his hands over his pockets. Just checking he apologized. We don't want any sc.r.a.p iron in the ring. Then he beckoned to a tall, brown-faced fellow who was leaning on the ropes chewing tobacco. This is Mr Barnard our weighing steward. Well, what do you say, Gideon? The steward hosed a little juice from the side of his mouth. Two hundred and ten. Thank you Jock held up his hands and after a few minutes was rewarded with a comparative silence. Ladies and Gentlemen. -Vho you talking to, Guvnor?

We are privileged to have with us today, Mr Sean Courtney. Wake up, Boet, he's been with us for months. The heavyweight champion of the Republic. Why not make it the world, c.o.c.k, he's got just as much right to that t.i.tle. Who will fight six bouts , if it lasts that long. - for his t.i.tle and a purse of fifty pounds each.

Sustained cheering. -The first challenger, at two hundred and ten pounds Mr Anthony -'Hold on, Sean shouted, who says he's first?

lock Heyns had taken a deep breath to bellow the name.

He let it escape with a hiss. It was arranged by Mr du Toit.

If I fight them, then I pick them, I want the Port..

Duff's hand whipped over Sean's mouth and his whisper was desperate. Don't be a b.l.o.o.d.y fool, take the easy ones first. Use your head, we aren't doing this for fun, we're trying to finance a mine, remember?

Sean clawed Duff's hand off his mouth. I want the Portuguese, he shouted. He's joking, Duff a.s.sured the crowd, then turned on Sean fiercely. Are you mad? That dago's a man-eater, we're fifty pounds poorer before you start! I want the Portuguese, repeated Sean with all the logic of a small boy picking the most expensive toy in the shop. Let him have the dago, shouted the gentlemen on the hotel roof and Jock Heyns eyed them nervously; it was clear that they were about to add a few more bottles to the argument. All right, he agreed hastily. The first challenger, at he glanced at Barnard and repeated after him, two hundred and fifty-five pounds, Mr Felezardo da Silva Fernandes. In a storm of hoots and applause the Portuguese waddled down off the veranda and into the ring. Sean had seen Candy at the dining-room window and he waved to her.

She blew him a two-handed kiss and at that instant Trevor Heyns, the timekeeper, hit the bucket which served as a gong and Sean heard Duff's warning shout.

Instinctively he started to duck. There was a flash of lightning inside his skull and he found himself sitting in amongst the legs of the first line of spectators. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d King hit me, Sean complained loudly. He shook his head and was surprised to find it still attached to his body. Someone poured a gla.s.s of beer over him and it steadied him. He felt his anger flaming up through his body.

Six, counted Jock Heyns.

The Portuguese was standing at the ropes. Come back, Leetle Sheet, I hal some more for you, not half.

Sean's anger jumped in his throat. Seven, eight.

Sean gathered his legs under him. I kiss your mother. Fernandes puckered his lips and smacked them. I love your sister, like this. He demonstrated graphically.

Sean charged. With the full weight of his run behind it, his fist thudded into the Portuguese's mouth, then the ropes caught Sean and catapulted him back into the crowd once more.

You weren't even in the ring, how could you hit him?

protested one of the spectators who had broken Sean's fall. He had money on Fernandes.

Like this! I Sean demonstrated. The man sat down heavily and had nothing further to say. Sean hurdled the ropes.

lock Heyns was halfway through his second count when Sean interrupted him by lifting the reclining Portuguese to his feet, using the tangled bush of his hair as a handle.

He balanced the man on his unsteady legs and hit himOne, two, three. resignedly Jock Heyns began his third count, this time he managed to reach ten.

There was a howl of protest from the crowd and Jock Heyns struggled to make himself heard above it. Does anyone want to lodge a formal objection?

It seemed that there were those who did. Very well, please step into the ring. I can't accept shouted comments. Jock's att.i.tude was understandable he stood to lose a considerable sum if his decision were reversed. But Sean was patrolling the ropes as hungrily as a lion at feeding time. Jock waited a decent interval, then held up Sean's right arm.

, The winner, ten minutes for refreshments before the next bout. Will the keepers please come and fetch their property He gestured towards the Portuguese. Nice going laddie, unorthodox perhaps but beautiful to watch Duff took Sean's arm and led him to a chair on the veranda. Three more to go, then we can call it a day. He handed Sean a gla.s.s. What's this? Orange juice. I'd prefer something a little stronger Later, laddie. Duff collected the Portuguese purse and dropped it into the valise while that gentleman was being carried from the ring by his straining sponsors and laid to rest at the far end of the veranda.

Mr Anthony Blair was next. His heart was not in the encounter. He moved Prettily enough on his feet but always in the direction best calculated to keep him out of reach of Sean's fists. The boy's a natural long-distance champWatch it, Courtney, he'll run you to deathLast lap, Blair, once more round the ring and you've done five miles. The chase ended when Sean, now sweating gently, herded him in a corner and there dispatched him.

The third challenger had by this time developed a pain in his chest. It hurts like you wouldn't believe it, he announced through gritted teeth. Does it sort of gurgle in your lungs as you breatheV

asked Francois. Yes, that's it, gurgles like you wouldn't believe itPleurisy, diagnosed du Toit with more than a trace of envy in his voice.

Is that bad? theman asked anxiously. Yes it is. Page one hundred and Sixteen. The treatment I won't be able to fight, h.e.l.l, thats bad luck the invalid complained cheerfully It's exceptionally bad luck, agreed Duff. It means you'll have to forfeit your purse money. You wouldn't take advantage of a sick man? Try me Duff suggested pleasantly The fourth contestant was a German. Big, blond and happy-faced. He stumbled three or four times on his way to the ring, tripped over the rones and crawled to his corner on hands and knees; once there he was able to regain his feet with a little help from the ring post. Jock went close to him to smell his breath and before he could dodge, the German caught him in a bear hug and led him into the opening steps of a waltz. The crowd loved it and there were no objections when at the end of the dance lock declared Sean the winner on a technical knockout.

More correctly the decision should have gone to Candy who had provided the free drinks. We can close down the circus now if you want to, laddie, Duff told Sean. You've made enough to keep the Candy Deep afloat for another couple of months. I haven't had a single good fight out of the lot of them.

But I like the looks of this last one. The others were for business; this one I'll have just for the h.e.l.l of it. You've been magnificent, now you deserve a little fun, agreed Duff.