'That will do,' said Archie, 'get on with it.'
The ropes were fastened and the gang split into two rows. Matao raised his voice in falsetto song and the deeper voices of the workers joined the chanty. At the first beat of each bar they hauled on the ropes, shuffling their feet in a bear-like measure to the unstressed beats, so that the log progressed by jerks.
'No good showing them how to pull like men instead of the Russian ballet,' said Archie. 'The Wemba have hauled trees that way since they came out of the West and they're going on.'
'To the same tune too,' added Norah.
'Probably/. Then, after a pause, 'Anything up?'
She reassured him.
'Then I think I'll keep with them and see they don't slack.'
With an effort of will she stopped him. 'Please, Archie.... Can't we talk? There's something I've got to say.'
He looked distressed. 'Need we?' he muttered. 'Isn't it better left alone?' Without awaiting her answer, he moved in the direction of the singing.
She stood firm. 'No, Archie, I must. You can go back to the work in a minute.'