Although nothing is without end, br even the rain hammering down with hail, br it sometimes felt that way br with lightning bolts falling br down from the sky br like angry whip lashes br the young oxen milling around, br ready to stampede away br into the direction of the swamp br where the deadly tulips grow. br br Your horse neighs frightened br drawing up her front hooves br with every thunder bolt lashing down br and you let her gallop at the edge of the cattle br to round them into the shelter of the camp, br br cutting off the leading troublemakers br and the hail coming down in force br feels like buckshot from the old shotgun br and one ox, gigantic in size snorts br starts running on br br crashing through small trees br of which the stems whiplash past your head br and when in anger you reach it, br it turns back and starts to walk back br into the direction of the camp br looking at you br with big eyes as tame as that of a cow. br br [Reference: Cattle in the rain by Musaemura Zimunya.