#Chapter146

The tall savannah grass waves in the breeze as the man moves steadily across the veldt, the herd of buffalo snort and the bulls tramp the ground as he moves past them. He had seen the flames lighting up the early morning sky, and knew that a village was there, but he was not one to seek the company of others and preferred solitude in his wandering. The people of the valley called him mad, and would throw stones at him if he were to venture into a village and cause him to flee once more out onto the vast African veldt.

The man in question is a white...