Free When the Lion Feeds by Wilbur Smith, Tim Pigott-Smith

longer Sean sat, dazed with the speed at which it had happened. Then hatred came on him. It came with a violence that twisted his stomach. He hit his horse with his heels and it jumped forward. He drove it at the eagle and as he rode he screamed at it, a high-pitched formless Sound, an animal expression of hate.
    The eagle turned its head, looking at him sideways with one eye. it opened its great yellow beak and answered his scream, then it loosed its claws from the calf and launched itself into the air. its wings flogged heavily and it moved low along the ground, gaining speed, lifting, drawing away from Sean.
    Sean pulled his rifle from the scabbard and hauled his horse back onto its haunches. He threw himself out of the saddle and levered open the breech of the rifle.
    The eagle was fifty yards ahead of him rising fast now.
    Sean slipped a cartridge into the breech, closed it and brought the rifle up in one continuous movement.
    it was a difficult shot. Moving away from him and rising, the beat of its wings jerking its body. Sean fired.
    The rifle jumped back into his shoulder and the gunsmoke whipped away on the wind, so he could watch the bullet connect.
    The eagle collapsed in the air. It burst like a pillow in a puff of feathers and fell with its six-feet-long wings fluttering limply.
    Before it hit the ground Sean was running.
    It was dead when he reached it, but he reversed his rifle: holding it by the muzzle, he swung the butt down from above his head onto its body. At the third blow the butt of his rifle broke off, but he kept on hitting.
    He was sobbing with fury.
    When he stopped and stood panting the sweat was running down his face and his body was trembling. The eagle was a squashy mess of broken flesh and feathers.
    The calf was still alive. The rifle was jammed. Sean knelt beside it with tears of anger burning his eyes and killed it with his hunting-knife.
    So strong was this new feeling that Sean could hate even Garrick. He did not hate for long, though. Sean's anger and his hatred were quick things, with flames like those of a fire in dry grass: hot and high but soon burnt out and afterwardsihe ashes dead with no smouldering.
    Waite was away when it happened. For three consecutive years Waite courtney had been nominated for the chairmanship of the Beef Growers association and each time he had stood down. He was human enough to want the prestige the office carried with it, but he was also sensible to the fact that his farm would suffer from his frequent absences. Sean and Garrick had been working for two years when the annual election of office bearers came around again.
    The night before Waite left for the meeting in Pietermaritzburg he spoke to Ada. I had a letter from Bernard last week, my dear, he was standing before the mirror in their bedroom trimming his beard. They insist that i stand for the chair this year. Very wise of them, said Ada. They'd have the best men if you did. Waite frowned with concentration as he snipped at his whiskers. She believed so unquestioningly in him that he seldom doubted himself. Now looking at his face in the mirror he wondered how much of his success was owed to Ada's backing. You can do it, Waite. Not a challenge, not a question, but a calm statement of fact. When she said it he believed it.
    He laid the scissors down on the chest of drawers and turned to her. She sat cross-legged on the bed in a white nightgown, her hair was down in a dark mass around her shoulders. I think Sean can look after things here, she said, and then quickly, and of course Garry. Sean's learning fast, Waite agreed. Are you going to take the job?
    Waite hesitated. yes, he nodded and Ada smiled.
    Come here, she held out her hands to him.
    Sean drove Waite and Ada to the station at Lady-burg: at the last minute waite had insisted that she go with him, for he wanted her to be there to share it with him.
    Sean put their luggage into the coach and waited while they talked with the small group of