Showing posts with label ROLL AWAY THE STONE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ROLL AWAY THE STONE. Show all posts

Monday, 12 March 2007

THE LYNX

It’s known as the African Lynx but strictly speaking it’s a caracal, from the genus felis caracal. They can grow up to 45 cm high at the shoulder, and the males can weigh as much as 17 kg.

Most of its abdomen and lower body had been blown away by a single shot from the sergeant’s 9-mm Star pistol, which accounted for the extraordinary volume of blood that drenched us when he hurled it by the tail into the back of the Bedford. The head and the hide were intact, the distinctive black-tipped points of the ears, the golden coat, the eyes glazing over.

Someone came back for it a few weeks later, retrieving it from the pile of broken Klipdrif bottles, Lucky Strike stompies, and the rotting remnants of T-bones and lamb chops that lay strewn on the fenced-off earth behind the gatehouse. He dried it in the sun on top of the corrugated iron roof above his bed, held down by a large flat rock against scavengers and the prying eyes of the PF’s. When the brain rotted and began to stink the place out he reluctantly cut off its head. He kept the pelt in a secret place, which wasn’t such a good idea as things turned out.

*

Roll away the stone, there’s voice from the other side. It’s John D in Durban who walks among the dead. Be cool, John. The G.O.B. will set you free.