The golden valley Read online

  CHAPTER VIII

  JONATHAN stared down at her and said in his most irritating voice, "If you want to behave like a spoilt child, there's nothing I can do about it." They drove the rest of the way in silence. As Sally got out of the car she looked at him. "Thank you for taking me," she said stiffly, "and for the lunch." He looked at her. "Thank you," he said, and he was not laughing, "for a good laugh." He barely waited for her to get out of the car before he stepped on the accelerator. She stood still until the sound of the car had died away in the other sounds of late afternoon. She glanced up at the sky, for the twilight was sweeping down rapidly in the valley it would be dark in less than half an hour. It was too late to slip down to the river in the hope of seeing Netta, Sally thought. Perhaps Netta had not come down perhaps she still had not forgiven Sally for refusing to take her for a drive. Inside the house. Sally found she was alone. She felt tired and hot and told Dorcas she would have dinner in bed, so went and bathed, and climbed into bed with a book. But she found she could not concentrate enough to follow the story she was trying to read. Between her eyes and the print would come Jonathan's face his struggle not to laugh as the Xhosas sang to her, his whole treatment of it, she thought unhappily. At this moment, he was probably having a good laugh with Cynthia about it. Tomorrow it would be all over town. Had she been unpardonably rude, she wondered, when 116 THE GOLDEN VALLEY she implied that he was a liar? Hadn't he accused her of being one before? Surely what he could do, she could do also, she thought unhappily. But in Jonathan's eyes there were two rules one for men and one for girls. It was two days before Sally was able to go down to the river to meet Netta. When she went. Sally felt worried, for she was wondering if Netta had come to look for her and, not finding her, had given up hope of seeing her again. Sally hurried the last part of the way and was startled by the relief she felt as she saw Netta sitting patiently on the rocks, leaning forward and combing her hair, looking absurdly like a mermaid,.her legs and feet hidden by another boulder. "Sally! " Netta cried out excitedly as she saw her. She jumped up and ran to meet her. "I thought you were angry with me." Sitting side by side on a big flat boulder. Sally tried to explain. "I'm not a free agent, Netta. I've work to do, and . . . and besides, I can only slip away when the others are out. They might want to come with me," she said. Netta nodded. "If they did, Ouma would soon know and I'd be sent to a convent." She looked at Sally with wide innocent eyes. "I've got another secret to show you ..." The water trickled slowly along the dry river-bed; in the trees around them, the monkeys quarrelled and birds sang. It was hot and what they could see of the sky was cloudless. "Another cave?" Sally asked with a smile. She was wearing a buttercup yellow frock and Netta was feeling the material, comparing it with her white cotton frock. Netta looked up. "You're teasing me," she said, and jumped up, walking away. Sally watched her. This was all part of the game Netta 118 THE GOLDEN VALLEY loved to play. Now Sally must beg to see the secret and after a long argument Netta would tell her. But sud denly Sally felt tired. Maybe it was the heat; perhaps it was the memory of the last time she had seen Jonathan and the way he had laughed at her, and then been annoyed when she did what he had done to her before and called him a liar, she thought. Or was it depression at Malcolm White's complete lack of interest in what she had learned from Chief Keremido? Piet was now back from the hospital, but they had already had two big rows once. Sally had been passing Malcolm White's "den" and had heard Piet say angrily: "Without my help, you haven't a hope." What had he meant? Sally wondered. It had puzzled her, for Piet, so far, had been of little help with the book. It made her feel insecure. She was growing unsure of Malcolm White and the reason for their being there. All these things seemed to add up and she felt tired of Netta's games. "What sort of secret, then?" she asked wearily. Netta swung round, her eyes bright. "It's what your Mr. White is looking for," she said. Sally sat very still, as if chained to the rock. "I don't understand." Netta, delighted by the reaction to her words, danced back and sat by Sally's side, twisting to face her, tucking her legs under her long skirt. "You don't honestly think Mr. White is here to write a book, do you?" she asked Sally. Sally hesitated. She could no longer say that she believed that, if she was to tell the truth. "I always understood that was the reason." Netta laughed. "That's all talk. Cam . . . cam . some word Jonathan used." "Camouflage?" Sally said wearily. How Jonathan disliked Malcolm, she thought. THE GOLDEN VALLEY Netta nodded. "Well, what he's looking for isn't far away. Follow me!" She was off ]ike a water sprite, leaping over the thin trickle of water, balancing lightly on boulders in the way, climbing up the bank. Sally found it hard to keep up with her, Netta was so quick. They hurried along the narrow path that twisted through the tall trees, the monkeys chattering and running away, or swinging from branch to branch, then Sally and Netta had to cross another part of the river. It was wider here, having formed something like a small dam in which cream lilies lazily floated and a big tree hung its leaves down near the water to form a pool of dark shadow. The water reached their knees, but Netta walked through it, regardless of her shoes and stockings. Sally had no choice but to do the same if she paused, she might lose sight of Netta. What did Netta mean? What was Malcolm supposed to be looking for? Something brushed Sally's face and for a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. Then she saw it was a creeper and not the snake she had feared. Her feet squelched in the wet shoes, she was breathless and beginning to be annoyed with herself for having taken Netta's word and followed her. It was probably a joke, for Netta loved to tease. But even as Sally thought this, Netta skidded to a halt, lifting her hand, turning, her face suddenly grave. Sally could see the fear in her eyes. Netta lifted her finger to her mouth to indicate caution and then began to walk slowly through the closely packed trees, walking round a great bush that was covered with dark red flowers. Then she stopped again. Sally stood by her side, staring ahead. They had reached a small clearing round one of the most enormous trees Sally had ever seen in her life. It was a strange, ghost-like tree. The branches looked THE GOLDEN VALLEY just like roots. Sally thought. She could almost imagine that some giant hand had pulled the tree up out of the ground, turned it upside down, and thrust it back into the earth again. Round the trunk of the tree was a still pool, not very large but very dark and still. "This is where the tokoloshe is born," Netta whispered. Sally caught her breath. Back again to the tokoloshe, she thought. What part did it play in their lives? She had not mentioned the word since Jonathan's anger and Petrus' calm acceptance of it. "No one comes here," Netta whispered. "They're too scared." It was very still. Not a bird sang or a monkey chattered. The trees made a dark mantle around them, almost meeting overhead as if grouped to hide the monstrous tree. A bird screeched suddenly and both Sally and Netta jumped, turned and ran back down the path. They paused, both breathless, both trying to laugh. "It was only a bird," said Sally. Netta looked up at the trees nervously. "It'll be the lightning bird," she said. "He'll be telling the tokoloshe that we were there, and the tokoloshe doesn't like anyone to go to the place where he was bom." For a moment. Sally shivered, almost believing that what Netta said was the truth then compassion brought back sanity as she tried to reassure the frightened girl. "The tokoloshe doesn't exist, Netta. It's just imagination . . ." she began, thinking how wrong it was of people to allow a girl of Netta's age believe in such superstitions. Netta looked more scared. "You must never say that ... he hates to be laughed at. We must hurry," she said, turning and running along the pathway. Sally hurried to catch up with her. As they reached the river, two Xhosa women, their hair tied in tight little plaits and thick with the red ochre Jacobus had shown THE GOLDEN VALLEY Sally, looked at them. Each one was wearing the traditional marriage-skirt of tanned skin. Sally noticed. They said something as they gathered their washing and ran. Netta clutched Sally's arm something unusual, for she seemed afraid of being touched or of touching another person. "They tell us to run. We are in danger, for we have disturbed evil spirits," she said. It seemed an age before they got back to their mee
tingplace, the sandy river-bed with the familiar smooth boulders. Sally sat down, glad of the chance to breathe normally and feeling rather ashamed of herself. She had been scared, she thought. Let's face it, she told herself, that sort of fear is infectious. She knew that she was beginning to understand some of the Xhosas' fears. Netta sat very still, her arms clasped round her knees, her face grave and suddenly Sally thought of something. "That was on Piet's side of the river," she said. Netta turned and her face came to life. "That's the best joke of all. Sally," she said with her infectious giggle. "Mr. White wants the right to search Ouma's part, yet he doesn't know that the treasure is on Uncle Piet's side." "Treasure?" Sally repeated slowly. Netta was on her feet. "That's another secret. I'll tell you it. Sally, when you take me for a drive." Sally stood up. "I don't like being bribed." Netta's face quivered, her mouth was sulky. "It wasn't a bribe, it was a reward." Sally wanted to laugh, but knew that she mustn't. "I wish I knew . . ." she said slowly. Netta's eyes were bright again. "Why Mr. White is here?" Sally shook her head. "No if it would be wrong to THE GOLDEN VALLEY take you for a drive. I don't see how it can really matter." She was startled by the warmth of Netta's unexpected hug. "You're my best friend, my only friend. Next time we'll plan," she said excitedly, and then was away, flitting lightly across the water and then into the trees. Sally had turned away when she heard a low soft whistle. She looked back and Netta was running to speak to her. As Netta reached her, Netta said: "Sally, I did tell you where the treasure is buried, didn't I?" Sally shook her head. "I don't even know what the treasure is." Netta giggled. "It's buried under the tree, and no one will ever dig it up because the tokoloshe would kill them. Does Mr. White know . . ." A sudden sharp crack of a shot filled the air. Then a dead silence as if everyone was waiting tor the next. Another shot followed, and then a third shot, and then silence. Netta turned. "I must go. 'Bye. See you tomorrow?" Sally walked back slowly to the house. She had so much to think about as she looked up at the trees crowding closely round her. It was all so dry and hot. In many ways, she longed for the rains. It would solve her problem about Netta, she thought worriedly. Had she the right to take Netta for a harmless drive? What could be wrong about it? And who was Ouma shooting at today? she asked herself. Malcolm White had gone out with Piet. Had Piet consented to try and introduce Malcolm to his mother? And had the shots been her answer? Sally could see the house ahead of her. What an amazing difference the past days of hard work had made THE GOLDEN VALLEY to it. Already the garden looked cultivated, she thought, and the windows shone in the sunshine. The quick flash as a lizard darted up a straight polished tree trunk caught Sally's eye. She stood still and watched it. What sort of treasure could Netta be talking about? Treasure (.hat Malcolm White was looking for that he thought was on Ouma's land but that was really on Piet's ground. Treasure hidden at the birthplace of the tokoloshe . . . Sally walked on slowly. Was that why Jonathan had been so strange when she mentioned the tokoloshe? Why had he asked her if Malcolm White had told her about the tokoloshe? Small pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that her life had seemed to become began to fall into place. Jonathan obviously knew what the "treasure" was and where it was hidden, she thought. He also obviously believed that Malcolm White knew about the treasure. That meant that Malcolm and Piet were looking for the treasure together that though Piet knew of its existence he did not know where it was, but he knew the valley and Malcolm did not. That was why Piet had said that without him, Malcolm "hadn't a hope." It would also explain Malcolm's lack of interest in the book but then. Sally thought quickly, there was a flaw in her reasoning here. Malcolm was taking an interest nearly every day there were fresh notes he had dictated on to the tape for her to type. As she got to the house, a Land Rover came skidding down the steep hill, braking abruptly, throwing the driver and the passenger sideways with its violence. Malcolm White got out of the Land Rover, his face red with anger. "That . . . that mad woman!" he spluttered as Sally reached them. "She shot at me ... three times . . ." "But not to kill," Piet said quietly as he clambered out of the passenger's seat. "I did warn you." THE GOLDEN VALLEY "It was just a social visit," exploded Malcolm. "She never has visitors," Sally said. "Not even Cynthia Maddox, Jonathan's girl friend, has met her." "Well, if she's as hospitable to everyone as she was to us, no wonder people stay away . . ." Malcolm mumbled, going into the house. "I need a drink." Sally looked up at the big fat red face of the man at her side. "How's the arm, Piet?" He smiled thinly. "It could be worse, thanks. It's the least of my troubles," he added, and stalked into the house. Sally was asleep when Douglas and Kay arrived back that night from a dance. As usual, Kay sailed into the room, switched on the light and sat on the bed, kicking off her high-heeled shoes. "Parcel for you. Sally," she said. Sleepily Sally opened one eye. "Can't it wait? Probably from Aunt Gabby." "No it was posted in Ubito," said Kay. "Ubito?" Sally woke up properly. She took the square, neatly wrapped parcel from Kay and turned it over. There was no return address on it. And then she guessed. "Probably Jacobus. He told me he'd send me some special carvings when he got them." Kay slid off the bed. "How uninteresting." At the door she turned. "Your wonderful Jonathan was at the dance. Sally and the gorgeous girl-friend. They looked very happy and kept laughing a lot." Sally put the parcel on the table by the bed and yawned. "Did they really? Good for them," she said lightly, but inside her a knife seemed to twist in her heart. No doubt Jonathan and Cynthia were laughing a lot, she thought, laughing at her, of course. At the fool she always made of herself. How could she have been so stupid about the beads? she wondered. THE GOLDEN VALLEY Kay had gone without switching out the light. Wearily, Sally got out of bed to do it herself, and then something made her stop. She knew Jacobus' handwriting quite well. It was thick and surprisingly straggly, hard to read. The writing on the parcel had been neat small letters, well defined. She caught her breath as she picked up the parcel and looked at it. Suddenly her fingers tore at the string, ripping it off, pulling off the brown paper. It was . . . it couldn't be ... she thought, wondering at her own excitement. There was a note on a flat box. It was from Jonathan! But why would he send her a present? Sally wondered as she opened the box. Unless he was sorry for the trick he had played on her. As she took out a book, her heart seemed to drop but when she saw the title, she was happy again. It was a book on anthropology. Was this Jonathan's way to tell her that he believed her story now? She turned the first few pages. The book was familiar. She realised that it was the same as the book she had bought in London and that had been lost. She could remember telling Jonathan about it, the day he called to take her to the Chief Keremido. Had he thought she needed it? How nice of him! She turned to put the book down and a piece of paper fluttered out of the pages. I She picked it up. In Jonathan's handwriting were the I numbers of a chapter and page. Puzzled, she turned I the pages and read the part listed. It was about the | Ceremony of the Reeds. Apart from a slightly different I way of wording it, it was almost word for word what | Malcolm had dictated on the tape recorder and she had !been typing the day Jonathan came. The page that he had taken out of the typewriter and read . . . She put down the book and screwed up the paper, THE GOLDEN VALLEY burning it with a match. And then she switched off the light, groping her way back to bed, lying very still. So Malcolm was lying, she thought. And Jonathan had finally proved it. Unless Malcolm had been deliberately trying to deceive her, he need not have gone to all that trouble of reading from the book and the effort of altering it. Why was she involved? she asked herself but it all began to add up, she realised. Malcolm was here to look for some mysterious treasure Piet was going to share it, or get some of it, and had rented his house to them. No one must know, so Malcolm had thought up the old dodge of posing as a writer. He must have known. Sally thought, that no one would believe him. So he had engaged her to help him, knowing that she would throw a veneer of truth on the plot, that her very earnestness and interest in the book would convince people of its existence. She drew a long deep breath and then shivered. No wonder Jonathan had treat
ed her so strangely at first. How he must have distrusted her still did, perhaps. But no, he couldn't, she realised, otherwise he wouldn't have sent her the book as proof that Malcolm was, as he had always said, a "phoney." Now that she knew, what did Jonathan expect her to do? What could she do? She had no real proof . . . she only knew one thing. She would hand in her resignation and fly back to England and Aunt Gabby just as soon as she could. As she felt sleep creep over her, she thought of something else. Netta. Before she left East Griqualand, Sally decided, she would keep her promise to Netta and let her see something of the world.