CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

It was not until sunset, when the mosquitoes and flies were out in force, that Suzanne, Pierre and Isabeau arrived back at the Jaubert farm. They were footsore and tired from so much talking, but happy.

Tia greeted them with a little hope in her eyes: Harrie was holding steady, and she had managed to persuade him to eat a little bread.

‘But he still has a fever, miss. Nothing I do is working.’

‘It is working, Tia, otherwise his condition would be worsening,’ Suzanne replied, hoping she was right. ‘If you are worried, are you sure there is nobody we could fetch? One of your own people?’

‘There is no one near.’

Suzanne raised her eyebrows. ‘Can that be true?’

‘They do not trust us,’ Tia admitted.

‘Because you work for us?’

She nodded unhappily.

‘Well, then we must continue to be patient. Give your herbs time to work. Madame Jaubert will help.’

Tia narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because I have to continue to Olifantshoek, Tia, and find the man we’re seeking. The longer I wait, the more likely it is that he will have moved on.’

As Suzanne had feared, Tia hated the idea of her going.

‘If he lives there, why would he leave?’ she cried.

‘Well, we don’t know if he lives there or if he was just passing through. Can’t you see, the longer I delay, the more likely it is that I will miss him. Harrie cannot yet be moved, and he needs you. Madame Jaubert’s husband is going to engage another guide for me.’

‘What if this person is untrustworthy, what if he is—’

Suzanne put her hand on Tia’s arm. ‘You can meet him, Harrie can meet him if he is fit enough to do so. But I have to go.’

In the end, Tia conceded her brother was not fit to travel. After further discussion, it was agreed that brother and sister would stay until Harrie improved, then they would follow on to Olifantshoek to meet Suzanne there and escort her back to the Colony.

‘And you will come and work for me in our house? Like we said.’

Tia’s face lit up. ‘You promise?’

‘Didn’t I give you my word? My grandmother will be delighted to meet you.’

Pierre Jaubert delivered on his promise. Five days later, a Khoi guide arrived at the farm. Tia did not know him, but he was related by blood to their clan, and Harrie was prepared to vouch for him.

Khasso was quietly spoken, his voice a whisper, and he seemed shy even in Tia’s company. He was shorter than Harrie, with the same distinctive broad face and a still, unwavering gaze. It was encouraging that he, too, had heard of a white man who lived in the Olifantshoek mountains. This was his territory, and Suzanne took much comfort in that.

Khasso received instructions from Harrie, a price was agreed for him to escort Suzanne to Olifantshoek and to protect her until Harrie and Tia could travel. Later, she explained the plan to Pierre and Isabeau, then retired early to bed leaving her hosts sitting by the fire outside.

As her eyes started to close, she realised she would arrive in Olifantshoek on her birthday – New Year’s Day. It would be the first time she had ever spent her feast day apart from Florence. She wondered if her grandmother would light a candle or wait until she returned so that they could mark the day together.

Drifting into sleep, she imagined herself riding into Olifantshoek with the mountains behind her, imagined the farm the Khoi had described. Imagined Louise – or her ghost – waiting for her.

‘I’m coming,’ she murmured, as she had promised before, ‘I’m coming to find you.’

Friday, 31st December

‘Come back and see us,’ Pierre said with a catch in his voice. ‘My wife has enjoyed your company. She will miss you.’

‘And I her,’ Suzanne replied warmly. ‘Again, thank you for your kindness in allowing Harrie and Tia to remain. I warrant it won’t be for too much longer. He is strong and determined to heal.’

Pierre held up his hand. ‘No hurry, no hurry. A bientôt.’

Suzanne hugged Isabeau, took her leave of a weeping Tia and extracted a promise from Harrie that they would not follow after her until he was back to full strength.

At first, they headed due south. Khasso was a silent presence at her side, answering any questions she asked of him, but never volunteering a word otherwise. Suzanne did not mind. She relished the silence.

They travelled all morning until the sun at midday drove them to seek shade. Khasso refused any food and only drank from a stream. Suzanne rested her horse, checked her musket and ammunition, ate a little bread and cured meat, and waited impatiently for the worst of the heat to pass.

They changed their course, now travelling south-east towards the Olifantshoek mountains which loomed grey and green on the horizon. At first, Suzanne noticed nothing different in Khasso’s careful and steady gait. But as the ground started to rise, he became jittery, turning his head from side to side as if expecting an ambush.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream up ahead stopped them in their tracks. Another scream was followed by a series of grunts, and barks. Suzanne’s hand went to her musket slung over her shoulder.

‘What is that?’ she said quickly, her fingers fumbling with the ammunition in the bandolier.

‘Baboons,’ he said.

‘Are they dangerous?’

‘They are thieves. They will try to steal from us.’

‘Will they attack us?’

Khasso shrugged. ‘You can scare them away.’ He pointed to the musket. ‘They will not like the noise.’

Suzanne dismounted, then allowed Khasso to lead her horse up the narrow gap between two escarpments until they reached a plateau. Now she could see a troop of baboons, adults and children, settled directly in their path. Their expressions were a mixture of charm and mischief, their faces almost human.

She prepared the black powder and ammunition, blew on the match chord, then pointed the musket into the air and fired. The animals scattered, screeching in all directions, leaping from rock to rock back towards the cover of the trees higher on the ridge. Suzanne thought she could hear the echo of the shot bouncing off the rock, rumbling through the pass like thunder.

Then the smoke cleared and all was still again.

She turned to Khasso smiling, delighted that she had successfully loaded and fired the gun after so long. Adriaan would have been proud of his pupil. To her surprise, Khasso still looked unnerved.

‘Is something the matter? Do you think they will come back?’

He shook his head.

‘What, then?’ she said with a touch of impatience. He seemed rooted to the spot as if unwilling to take another step. ‘Khasso?’

Slowly, he pointed to the next range of mountains. ‘I cannot go further.’

Suzanne stared at him in disbelief. ‘You agreed to take me to Olifantshoek and stay with me until Harrie and Tia arrived. That was our arrangement.’

‘Not through this pass.’ He gestured to the plains down below. ‘We can go another way.’

‘But to go round the mountains rather than through them will add days to our journey.’

‘Not through the pass,’ he repeated.

‘But why?’ Her voice rose in exasperation.

‘It is the wind.’

Suzanne looked up. She realised that, at some point in the past hour, the wind had changed direction. It was now blowing into their faces rather than at their backs.

‘When the wind comes from the south-east, the voices of the unquiet dead can be heard whispering through this valley,’ he said, so quietly that Suzanne had to strain to hear him at all. ‘They are the spirits of those who are destined to roam the earth without rest.’ He put his hand to his chest. ‘I cannot go further.’

She was dumbfounded. Short of forcing him at the point of the gun to take her further, she did not know what to do to persuade him.

‘How long before the wind changes direction again?’ she finally asked.

‘It could be a day, a week. It could be longer.’

‘So, what do you propose?’

Without embarrassment, Khasso met her eye. ‘Wait for the wind to change or go around the mountain.’ His voice was steady and implacable. He believed what he believed and nothing she could say would make him believe otherwise.

There was, however, a third option. ‘How much further is it?’

‘Half a day,’ he replied. ‘You follow this pass. It rises up, then you will be travelling downhill. You will see the farm you seek before sunset.’

Suzanne nodded. ‘What are the dangers? Not the spirits you talk about, but predators?’

‘Here there are no lions. Leopards, yes, and where there are leopards there will be jackals. Snakes, too, of course.’

She swallowed hard. Was she really going to go on alone for the sake of a few days? She hesitated and she thought of Louise, then decided there was no choice.

‘I will continue alone,’ she said with more confidence than she felt. ‘If you change your mind, come to find me. Otherwise, please wait for Harrie and Tia here and tell them where I am. I will leave some provisions.’

She knew Harrie would have tried to argue with her. He would have worried for her safety and attempted to stop her leaving. But Khasso simply nodded, then sat down to wait.

Suzanne took stock. She could approach under cover of dark, then set up camp within sight of the farm.

And then what? she thought to herself.

With grave misgivings, but also a sense of purpose at her journey’s end, on the eve of the new year, Suzanne Joubert rode on alone.