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By Root 3483 0

for there was no ease or hope, Nxumalo led Saltwood to the small dark house that was the focus of this visit. Inside the curtained kitchen sat nine men in a kind of ring, into whose center Philip was thrust: 'This is my friend, Philip Saltwood, the American geologist who is highly respected by his workmen at Swartstroom. He is completing his education.' The men acknowledged him briefly, then turned to Nxumalo and started to press him with questions.

'What do you hear from Jonathan?' one asked, and Philip had no way of guessing who Jonathan might be.

'Nothing.'

'Any news at all from Mozambique?'

'From this side we know that the frontier patrols are penetrating into Mocambique every week. They must be doing damage.'

'Is your brother still alive?'

'I hear nothing from Jonathan.'

Philip judged that Nxumalo hedged on his reply, perhaps because he did not want to say anything incriminating in the presence of a white witness.

They discussed the situation on each of the other frontiers, where apparently they had men from Soweto in position among the rebels, and in no segment of the extensive border did their people seem to be accomplishing much. But when Philip analyzed what actually had been said, he realized that verbally at least these men were not plotters against the government; they were simply discussing events along the frontier, exactly as the white people at Vrymeer followed these affairs, but from a much different point of interest.

The talk was broad in scope and free in manner. These men were teachers, a clergyman, businessmen of sorts, and they were concerned about the directions their nation was taking. They were deeply worried about the forthcoming American presidential election and wondered whether Andrew Young would regain his position of power in a new administration. They were particularly interested in one aspect of American life. 'What accounts for your ambivalance?' a teacher asked. 'Your big newspapers are against apartheid, so is President Carter, so is Andy Young, but ninety-eight percent of the Americans who visit our country approve of it. Almost every American who comes here goes home convinced that Afrikaners are doing the right thing.'

'It's simple,' Philip said. 'What Americans come here? It's far away, you know, and very expensive. Businessmen come on company accounts. Rich travelers. Engineers. And they're all wealthy and conservative. They like what they see. They approve of apartheid, really, and would like to see it introduced in America.'

'You're an engineer. You're not a conservative.'

'On many things I am. I'm sure as hell no liberal.'

'But on apartheid?'

'I'm against it because I don't think it works.'

'Do you find the world turning conservative? Canada? England? Maybe America?'

'I do.'

Late in the evening they got down to cases, and now Nxumalo moved to the fore: 'I've been pondering what we might do to inspirit our people. To send a signal to the men in Mocambique that we're still with them. And it seems to me that the most effective single thing, under present conditions, is to organize a day of remembrance for our dead children who were gunned down in Soweto in 1976.'

'That has merit.'

'I would propose that on June 16 this year we have a national day of mourning. No disturbances, just some kind of visual remembrance.'

'Would that antagonize government?' a short man asked. 'Anything we do antagonizes government.'

'I mean, to the point of retaliation?'

Nxumalo sat silent. This was a penetrating question, for the tactic of committees like this had to be protest up to the edge of the precipice at which Afrikaner guns began to fire, as they had at Sharpeville, in Soweto and at a score of other sites. Judiciously he said, 'If the white man can make a national holiday of Blood River, where he slaughtered thousands of us Zulu, we can remember Soweto '76. I say let's go ahead.'

It was agreed, and when Saltwood left the meeting, and slipped out of Soweto, he was aware that his new friend Daniel Nxumalo had entered upon dangerous ground, but he had no idea that by this simple