Under the Southern Cross. Short Stories from South Africa, by David Adey et al.

Under the Southern Cross. Short Stories from South Africa, by David Adey et al. ISBN 0949937975 / ISBN 0-949937-97-5

In the book Under the Southern Cross, a large number of authors have been selected, with the aim of producing a collection of short stories from South Africa as representative as possible.

Herman Charles Bosman  Olive Schreiner  Pauline Smith  Stuart Cloete  

Stuart Cloete: The Finger of God

The prisoner roll-call was at six in the evening. First there was the bugle call. Then the men collected on the red hard-baked parade ground. Not tidily, not fallen in, because the prisoners were Boers - farmers, free burghers - who had been captured as they fought for liberty. Then came the young officer and the fat sergeant. To the officer, the prisoners were rebels, an undisciplined lot who couldn't even form fours. He was Authority. He stood by the sergeant, who called the roll. The sergeant was the Voice. The Voice did not speak till the officer said, 'Call the roll, Sergeant.' Then he began. There were no A's, so he began with B. 'Basson!' he shouted. A tall slouched man said 'Ja.' The sergeant went on: 'Byers, Brink, De Jongh, Duminy ...' The men said, 'Ja, ja ...' Once they had answered, they ceased to be there. Their bodies were there, but their attention - their minds and hearts - wandered. There was no need for more attention. They could go back to their dreams of their wives and children, of their homes and cattle, and their dogs and the horses they had lost in the war. Jan Moolman heard his name called, Ja,' he said. In his mind he smiled. Tomorrow, when they called, he would not be there. His plans were made. Tomorrow, when the roll was called, Japie de Wet would answer in his place. Moolman was a hunter by profession. He had never married and so was less unhappy than the others. He had not married because once he had loved a girl - a little thing with blue eyes and blonde hair. Then she had a fever and in a week she was gone. After that, something died in his heart. But it was curious that, having suffered so much when he was young, he suffered less now than the others. God was just. If a man must suffer, He saw to it that he did not suffer too much, and never paid twice for the same thing. Jan was a man of medium height, dark-haired and dark-eyed as are many Boers with French blood. His skin was leathery, creased with the wrinkles of exposure to the sun and glare of Africa. He moved quickly, softly, with a slight horseman's roll. Stripped, he was a man of iron and whipcord, bound with brass. Though he was very quiet, you felt that this stillness could explode into action at any moment. He was a legend among his people. Sometimes it amused him. Any man could become a legend if he took enough risks and survived them. With Francina gone, he welcomed risks. They were the only thing that could take his mind off her, and if he was killed he would be with her. But he had told no one about her. Why should he? That had been in the beginning, twenty years ago. And now that way of living, taking chances, had become a habit. He knew no other. Three things he loved - his country, hunting and horses. He hated nothing except the English, after they started burning the farms and taking the wives and children of the Boers into protective custody, as as they called it. Unfortunately, being unused to confinement, many of them died in these camps, though they were cared for and well fed. They died the way a caged wild bird will die, of a broken heart - the way he himself might die if they sent him away from his land and over the sea. He thought of a British officer - a lancer - who had accompanied the general who had inspected the camp yesterday. (...)

This is an excerpt from the book: Under the Southern Cross. Short Stories from South Africa, by David Adey et al.

Title: Under the Southern Cross
Subtitle: Short Stories from South Africa
Editor: David Adey
Publisher: Ad. Donker; Delta House
Johannesburg; Cape Town, 1982
ISBN 0949937975 / ISBN 0-949937-97-5
Original hardcover, original dustjacket, 12x19 cm, 303 pages