Little Tembi was brought by his mother up to the house every day for a month, partly to make sure he would not relapse, partly because Jane had grown to love him. When he was quite well, and no longer came to the clinic, Jane would ask the cookboy after him, and sometimes sent a message that he should be fetched to see her. The native woman would then come smiling to the back door with the little Tembi on her back and her older child at her skirts, and Jane would run down the steps, smiling with pleasure, waiting impatiently as the cloth was unwound from the mother's back, revealing Tembi curled there, thumb in mouth, with great black solemn eyes, his other hand clutching the stuff of his mother's dress for security. Jane would carry him indoors to show Willie. 'Look, she would say tenderly, 'here's my little Tembi. Isn't he a sweet little piccanin?
He grew into a fat shy little boy, staggering uncertainly from his mother's arms to Jane's. Later, when he was strong on his legs, he would run to Jane and laugh as she caught him up. There was always fruit or sweets for him when he visited the house, always a hug from Jane and a good-humoured, amused smile from Willie.
He was two years old when Jane said to his mother: 'When the rains come this year I shall also have a child. And the two women, forgetting the difference in colour, were happy together because of the coming children: the black woman was expecting her third baby.
Tembi was with his mother when she came to visit the cradle of the little white boy. Jane held out her hand to him and said: 'Tembi, how are you? Then she took her baby from the cradle and held it out, saying: 'Come and see my baby, Tembi. But Tembi backed away, as if afraid, and began to cry. 'Silly Tembi, said Jane affectionately; and sent the houseboy to fetch some fruit as a present. She did not make the gift herself, as she was holding her child.
She was absorbed by this new interest, and very soon found herself pregnant again. She did not forget little Tembi, but thought of him rather as he had been, the little toddler whom she had loved wistfully when she was childless. Once she caught sight of Tembi's mother walking along one of the farm roads, leading a child by the hand, and said: 'But where's Tembi? Then she saw the child was Tembi. She greeted him; but afterwards said to Willie: 'Oh dear, it's such a pity when they grow up, isn't it? 'He could hardly be described a$ grown-up, said Willie, smiling indulgently at her where she sat with her two infants on her lap. 'You won't be able to have them climbing all over you when we've a dozen, he teased her — they had decided to wait another two years and then have some more; Willie came from a family of nine children. 'Who said a dozen? exclaimed Jane tartly, playing up to him. 'Why not? asked Willie. 'We can afford it. 'How do you think I can do everything? grumbled Jane pleasantly. For she was very busy. She had not let the work at the clinic lapse; it was still she who did the ordering and planning of the labourers' food; and she looked after her children without help — she did not even have the customary native nanny. She could not really be blamed for losing touch with little Tembi.
He was brought to her notice one evening when Willie was having the usual discussion with the bossboy over the farm work. He was short of labour again and the rains had been heavy and the lands were full of weeds. As fast as the gangs of natives worked through a field it seemed that the weeds were higher than ever. Willie suggested that it might be possible to take some of the older children from their mothers for a few weeks. He already employed a gang of piccanins, of between about nine and fifteen years old, who did lighter work; but he was not sure that all the available children were working. The bossboy said he would see what he could find.
As a result of this discussion Willie and Jane were called one day to the front door by a smiling cookboy to see Little Tembi, now about six years old, standing proudly beside his father, who was also smiling. 'Here is a man to work for you,1 said Tembi's father to Willie, pushing forward Tembi, who jibbed like a little calf, standing with his head lowered and his fingers in his mouth. He looked so tiny, standing all by himself, that Jane exclaimed compassionately: 'But, Willie, he's just a baby still! Tembi was quite naked, save for a string of blue beads cutting into the flesh of his fat stomach. Tembi's father explained that his older child, who was eight, had been herding the calves for a year now, and that there was no reason why Tembi should not help him.
'But I don't need two herdboys for the calves, protested Willie. And then, to Tembi: 'And now, my big man, what money do you want? At this Tembi dropped his head still lower, twisted his feet in the dust, and muttered: 'Five shillings. 'Five shillings a month! exclaimed Willie indignantly. 'What next! Why, the ten-year-old piccanins get that much. And then, feeling Jane's hand on his arm, he said hurriedly: 'Oh, all right, four and sixpence. He can help his big brother with the calves. Jane, Willie, the cookboy and Tembi's father stood laughing sympathetically as Tembi lifted his head, stuck out his stomach even farther, and swaggered off down the path, beaming with pride. 'Well, sighed Jane, 'I never would have thought it. Little Tembi! Why, it seems only the other day…
Tembi, promoted to a loincloth, joined his brother with the calves; and as the two children ran alongside the animals, everyone turned to look smiling after the tiny black child, strutting with delight, and importantly swishing the twig his father had cut him from the bush as if he were a full-grown driver with his team of beasts.
The calves were supposed to stay all day near the kraal; when the cows had been driven away to the grazing, Tembi and his brother squatted under a tree and watched the calves, rising to run, shouting, if one attempted to stray. For a year Tembi was apprentice to the job; and then his brother joined the gang of older piccanins who worked with the hoe. Tembi was then seven years old, and responsible for twenty calves, some standing higher than he. Normally a much older child had the job; but Willie was chronically short of labour, as all the fanners were, and he needed every pair of hands he could find, for work in the fields.
'Did you know your Tembi is a proper herdsboy now? Willie said to Jane, laughing, one day. 'What! exclaimed Jane. 'That baby! Why, it's absurd. She looked jealously at her own children, because of Tembi; she was the kind of woman who hates to think of her children growing up. But she now had three, and was very busy indeed. She forgot the little black boy.
Then one day a catastrophe happened. It was very hot, and Tembi fell asleep under the trees. His father came up to the house, uneasily apologetic, to say that some of the calves had got into the mealie field and trampled down the plants. Willie was angry. It was that futile, simmering anger that cannot be assuaged, for it is caused by something that cannot be remedied — children had to herd the calves because adults were needed for more important work, and one could not be really angry with a child of Tembi's age. Willie had Tembi fetched to the house, and gave him a stern lecture about the terrible thing he had done. Tembi was crying when he turned away; he stumbled off to the compound with his father's hand resting on his shoulder, because the tears were streaming so fast he could not have directed his own steps. But in spite of the tears, and his contrition, it all happened again not very long afterwards. He fell asleep in the drowsily-warm shade, and when he woke, towards evening, all the calves had strayed into the fields and flattened acres of mealies. Unable to face punishment he ran away, crying, into the bush. He was found that night by his father who cuffed him lightly round the head for running away.