Wilbur Smith - Assegai

It was futile. Eastmont was an enormous man and he was mad with terror. Nothing could stop him. Leon hit him in the centre of the chest with the rifle butt. The walnut stock snapped cleanly at the pistol grip, but Eastmont did not even flinch. He came into Leon like an avalanche. Leon was flung aside by the collision. Eastmont kept going. Leon landed on his right shoulder on the side of the path. He had the stock of the broken rifle in his left hand and pushed himself up with the right. Desperately he looked along the path to where Percy had gone down.

Percy was struggling to his knees. He had lost his rifle and was dazed by the blow to the back of his head. Behind him Leon saw the buffalo burst out of the thorn scrub into the narrow pathway. Its little eyes were bloodshot and they fixed on Percy. It lowered its massive head and swerved towards him. Its off back leg was trailing and swinging limply on the shattered bone, but it came on the other three, swift and dark as a summer tornado.

Leon lifted the shattered rifle. The butt-stock was gone but he was going to fire single-handed. He knew that the recoil might break his wrist. ‘Percy, get down!’ he screamed. ‘Fall flat! Give me a chance.’ But Percy stood up to his full height, blocking his shot. He was shaking his head with confusion, staggering drunkenly and looking around vaguely. Leon tried to shout again but his throat seized with horror and he could not utter a sound. He watched the buffalo roll its head to one side, winding up for the hook, as it covered the last few yards to reach Percy. Its neck was as thick as a tree-trunk and bulging with muscle. It used all that pent-up power to swing the massive half-moon of horns.

The point of a horn caught Percy in the small of the back at the level of his kidneys. The buffalo tossed its head high and he was impaled. With disbelief Leon saw that the point of the long curved horn had emerged from Percy’s stomach. The buffalo shook its head in an effort to dislodge the limp body. Percy was whipped around and his arms and legs flailed slackly, but the horn still transfixed his belly. Leon could hear his skin and flesh parting with a sound like tearing silk. Percy dangled over the buffalo’s head and blindfolded it. Leon raced forward, slipping the safety catch off the broken rifle. Before he could reach them, the buffalo lowered its head and wiped Percy off against the ground. As soon as it was free it smashed its great boss into him and, standing over him, began to grind him into the earth. Leon heard Percy’s ribs snapping like dry twigs. He could not fire into the bull’s skull, for the bullet would have gone straight through and into Percy’s pinned body.

He dropped to one knee beside the buffalo’s shoulder and pressed the double muzzles of the Holland into the massive neck at the juncture of spine and body. He had expected the recoil of the rifle to snap his wrists, but such was his furious abandon that he barely felt it and thought that the cartridge had misfired. But the bull reeled away from the shot and dropped into a sitting position on its haunches, its forelegs braced in front of it. Its head was lowered, and at last Leon could reach the brain. He jumped up and ran forward again, careful to stay outside the sweep of those lethal horns. He thrust the muzzle of the unfired barrel into the back of the skull behind the horny boss and fired the second barrel. The bullet burst the beast’s brain asunder in its casket of bone. It flopped forward, then rolled on to its side. Its good rear leg kicked convulsively, and it let out a long, mournful death bellow, then lay still.

Leon dropped the shattered stock of his rifle and wheeled back to where Percy lay. He fell to his knees beside him. Percy was on his back with his arms thrown wide as a crucifix. His eyes were closed. The wound in his stomach was hideous. The violent movements of the bull had enlarged it so that the torn and tangled intestines bulged through the opening, the contents of the ripped intestines pouring from the wound. From the murky colour of the blood he saw that Percy was bleeding from his kidneys.

‘Percy!’ Leon called. He was reluctant to touch him, fearful of inflicting further pain and damage. ‘Percy?’

His partner opened his eyes and, with an effort, focused on Leon’s face. He smiled regretfully, sadly. ‘Well, I didn’t get away the second time. The first was just my old leg, but now they’ve done for me, good and truly.’

‘Don’t talk such rot.’ Leon’s voice was harsh, but his vision was blurring. He felt moisture on his cheeks and hoped it was only sweat. ‘As soon as I’ve patched you up, I’ll get you back to camp. You’re going to be all right.’ He stripped off his shirt and bundled it into a ball. ‘This might be a little uncomfortable, but we have to plug the leak you’ve got there.’ He stuffed the shirt into the hole in Percy’s abdomen. It went in easily, for the wound was wide and deep.

‘I can’t feel a thing,’ Percy told him. ‘This is going to be a lot easier than I ever imagined it would be.’

‘Do shut up, old man.’ Leon could not look into his eyes where the shadows were gathering. ‘Now. I’m going to pick you up and carry you back to your horse.’

‘No,’ Percy whispered. ‘Let it happen here. I’m ready for it, if you’ll help me over.’

‘Anything,’ Leon told him. ‘Anything you want, Percy. You know that.’

‘Then give me your hand.’ Percy groped for him, and Leon gripped his hand firmly. Percy closed his eyes. ‘I never had a son,’ he said softly. ‘I wanted one, but I never had one.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Leon said.

Percy opened his eyes. ‘I guess I’ll just have to settle for you instead.’ The old twinkle was in his eyes.

Leon tried to reply but his throat was choked. He coughed and turned his head away. It took him a moment to find his voice. ‘I’m not good enough for that job, Percy.’

‘No one ever wept for me before.’ There was wonderment in Percy’s voice.

‘Shit!’ said Leon.

‘ Merde ,’ Percy corrected him.

‘ Merde ,’ Leon echoed.

‘Now, listen.’ There was sudden urgency in Percy’s tone. ‘I knew this was going to happen. I had a dream, a premonition. I left something for you in the old tin cabin trunk under my bed at Tandala.’

‘I love you, Percy, you tough old bastard.’

‘Nobody ever said that either.’ The twinkle in the blue eyes began to fade. ‘Get ready. It’s going to happen now. Get ready to squeeze my hand to help me across.’ He closed his eyes tightly for a long minute, then opened them very wide. ‘Squeeze, my son. Squeeze hard!’ Leon squeezed and was startled by the power with which the old man squeezed back.

‘Oh, God, forgive me my sins. Oh, sweet, loving Father! Here I come.’ Percy took one last gulp of air. His body stiffened, and then his hand in Leon’s went slack.

Leon sat beside him for a long while. He was unaware that the trackers had come back and were squatting close behind him. When Leon reached out and gently closed Percy’s staring eyes, Ko’twa jumped up and raced back along the path brandishing his assegai .

Carefully Leon arranged Percy’s limbs and lifted him in his arms as if he was a sleeping child. He started back towards where they had tethered the horses, Percy’s head resting on his shoulder. He had not gone fifty paces before he heard wild shouts.

‘Bwana, come quickly! Ko’twa is killing Mjiguu!’ Leon recognized Manyoro’s voice in the uproar. Still carrying Percy, he broke into a run. As he came around the next bend in the narrow pathway he was presented with a scene of wild confusion.

Eastmont was curled in a foetal position in the middle of the path. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his huge hands covered his head defensively. Ko’twa danced over him with his stabbing assegai raised. He was screaming at the prostrate body. ‘Pig and son of pigs! You have killed Samawati! You thing that is no man! You left him to die. He was a man among men and you killed him, you worthless creature. Now I am going to kill you.’ He tried to thrust the bright assegai head into Eastmont’s back but Manyoro and Loikot were hanging on to his spear arm to prevent the thrust going home.