The Prospector

The Prospector(Jeff Glazier) The Prospector
By Jeff Glazier


The day started like any other for Joshua. It was barely light as he heard his father’s motorbike start up. He looked out of his window and watched the headlight turn away from the barn then the red tail light disappear up the mountain. That’s what his dad did every morning to check on the sheep and cattle. He so wished that it was him.

The special thing about today was that it was his thirteenth birthday – it was also the first week of the long summer holiday. Ever since he was eight he’d wished for a motorbike, but every mention of it produced the same response: a quick shake of his mother’s head and the usual – “too young, and too dangerous.” But it didn’t have to be such a powerful machine like his dad’s, with its huge knobbly tyres and big growling engine. And he’d wear a helmet, unlike his dad – but still no.

His dad was a strong man with huge hands and thick hairy forearms. He would twist the throttle and roar off, the bike often flying through the air along the rocky track. Joshua wondered when he’d get thick strong arms. He had his mother’s build, thin, quite tall for his age, with a mop of fair hair. At school they said he was weedy. But he has doing well at school, his mum and dad were pleased. Over supper recently they talked about him having a proper desk in his room.

It was dawn now, the sun beginning to light up the red rock of the mountain that their farmhouse was at the foot of. There was some arable land surrounding the house that grew lucern, vital in the drought times that seemed to threaten every year. But this year it was particularly bad. It was a dry winter, no snow on the mountain, providing the life source for the farmers. Joshua had heard his dad lament the problem. And the dam was dangerously low.

His mum tended the garden which she had cleared of rocks, bit by bit. His mum was quiet, never seemed happy. She grew all their vegetables and would make pickles and bottle fruit for the winter. The rest of the farm was the vast mountain with its maze of mysterious tracks snaking off in all directions. How he would love to explore those tracks. It was fifteen kilometres to the top, too great a distance to walk. He had gone partway with his friend Gary, but they were warned not to go far, and certainly not past the waterfall – that was baboon territory and they were aggressive. Apparently there was a big hole in the mountain where they lived. The old coloured farmworker, who spent his day sitting outside his shack staring into space, once told him that there may be gold deep in the mountain, someone had come to find it, a jologist he called him – it was before he was born. His dad said that bushmen once lived in the cave. Nothing was said about gold, his dad told him not to believe anything the old fool in the shack said – he was funny in the head, whatever that meant. Joshua heard many things about the farm – and his dad. People feared him, he had got into fights when he was younger.

Joshua dressed and went into the kitchen. There were cards on the table and several small presents wrapped in colourful paper, and a brown paper parcel all taped up. That would be from his granny, she lived a long way away. He looked at the small packages hiding his disappointment, certainly not a motorbike in any of them. “Happy birthday!” His mum hugged him and pushed her hand through his hair. He felt he was too old for hugs now, he wasn’t a child anymore. “Go on then, open your presents – unless you want to wait for your dad?” Joshua heard the distant drone of his bike. He began to open his cards. They were from aunts and uncles who he rarely saw. There was money in them; he would have to write thank you letters.

Joshua’s phone rang, he’d got it last year. It was Gary, his best friend. He lived in the village and sometimes came to swim in the farm’s dam. He wished him ‘happy birthday.’ The sound of the motorbike grew louder, then cut out. He would wait for his dad before opening his presents, and tried to gather enthusiasm. His dad would normally stride straight into the kitchen, his mum would give him a look, especially if his boots were muddy. He was slow to arrive. Joshua opened one. It was a shirt, a smart one. He thanked his mum. Then his dad arrived, he seemed excited, as he wished him a happy birthday. Joshua opened another present. New trainers, quite smart, but not really a main present. He knew that money was tight, but there were only two small presents left. His dad looked on smiling as he opened the last one. That was really odd. It was a set of keys, His heart sank, he remembered what his dad had said about a desk. His dad told him to go out the back door. Standing in front of him was a bright red quad bike. His dad was by his side. “It’s not new, but I’ve done it up, it runs well. I’ll show you how to drive it. If you want it that is?” Joshua was speechless as he hopped on the machine. “You be careful mind Josh,” his mum was a little worried.
“It’s fantastic Dad, can I drive it now?”
“Don’t see why not. You’ve got the keys. Make sure it’s out of gear . . . use this lever.” Joshua turned the key. The engine started, he twisted the throttle, it roared into life. Then his dad explained the gears and brakes and tentatively he was off.

He was back to finish his breakfast an hour later.
“Can Gary come round Mum?”
“If he wants to.”
“Great I’ll call him.”
Joshua had already planned the trip up the mountain. They would take a picnic, the quad had a box on the back where a cool box fitted. They would go to the waterfall, but ‘no further’ his mum said. She gave him two bottles of homemade lemonade. Gary wore his cycle helmet, Joshua wore the one that his dad never did.

Soon the two boys were high in the mountain, past where the sheep picked their way through the dry veld, then further on past the cattle. Even higher there were blesbok and kudu that leapt away through the bush.

They swam at the waterfall, then sat on the warm rocks with their lunch. Joshua kept looking further on, down the dip into the next koppie, to where he was told not to go. What harm could it do?

The track became less defined, it wasn’t long before it was completely overgrown. Travelling was slow now. Gary tapped him on the shoulder, reckoned they should turn back. Joshua pointed ahead, he could just make out a hollow in the rocks. Cave he thought, and then gold.

Joshua felt great excitement as they arrived, he had a strange sensation, as if he’d been there before. Odd thing was there weren’t any baboons – his dad had told him that it was here that they were big and dangerous. The mouth of the cave was overgrown, there were rocks piled in front, looked like there had been a fall. They hauled some out of the way and crawled into the cave. Using their phones as torches they explored. It was cold, they heard water trickling in a far corner. Joshua looked around excitedly. The cave didn’t seem to be very deep, he was half expecting a shored up tunnel, maybe even a little railway track to haul the gold bearing rock out. But it was a foolish story, so his dad said. Gary wanted to find the gold though. Still they searched, perhaps find a secret latch so something would open up, and a big rock would rumble, the sort of thing that happened to Indiana Jones. Gary spotted a pile of stones in the darkest area.

“I bet that there are tunnels behind,” he whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Joshua whispered.
“Because we shouldn’t be here I suppose.”
“Well, no one can hear us.”
Gary began to move the stones. Josh helped. A cool breeze suddenly hit them. “Look,” Gary shone his light, “there is a tunnel.” The cell phone lights were growing dimmer now.
“Let’s come back another day with torches.”
“Let’s go in just a bit.” Gary sounded brave. The tunnel went on for maybe twenty metres turning a little along the way. Gary’s light went out, and suddenly he lost his footing. Joshua grabbed his arm to stop him falling. And he would have fallen into a chamber. They could barely make out its extent, but it looked big – then his light went out. It was pitch black. The boys clutched each other in fright, then moved quickly back down the tunnel, Joshua banged his head. He felt blood trickle down his temple. They scrambled over the loose stones and ran to the small sunlit entrance of the cave. They were both out of breath, and relieved. Soon curiosity took over and they were planning the next day, but this time equipped; a strong flashlight, a rope and a hammer and chisel to get the gold. They drove down the mountainside, their fertile imaginations working overtime. Joshua had forgotten about his wound – his mum was horrified, and was convinced that he fell off the quad. Joshua claimed that he hit a branch of a tree.

The boys watched a movie that evening after a birthday supper. And his dad wanted to know how the bike went and where they’d been. They missed out big chunks. He asked what the waterfall was like. His face fell when he learned it was just a trickle. He became serious, another hot dry week was forecast. They went to bed excited about the next day – they had planned an early start.

Joshua woke as usual to the sound of his dad’s bike. He’d left Gary sleeping as he went to the barn. He checked his bike as his dad told him, the tyre pressure and the oil, then filled it with petrol from the green steel can. He found up a thick rope as well as a hammer and chisel, and put them in a hessian sack, then into the quads box, along with the big flashlight – his dad wouldn’t miss it in the day. Gary was up and having breakfast when he returned. His mum packed up lunch and they were on their way. They called themselves The Prospectors, and they were sure to get rich.

The sun was well up as they reached the darkness of the cave and made their way through the narrow passage. Gary had the rope coiled over his shoulder, Joshua carried the tools. It was much easier in the arc of bright light from the torch. They were soon staring at a drop of at least five meters. Gary tied the rope to a rock jutting out, Joshua tugged on it just making sure. They punched fists, then Joshua made his way down as Gary held the torch. When at the bottom Gary drew up the rope then lowered the torch and tools before making his own way down. The first thing that they saw was a broken ladder, then shining the light slowly around the chamber they saw the walls cut into, then some piles of chippings. Joshua was sure that there were seams of yellow reflecting the light. Gary moved to a pile of stones in the far corner and began sorting through them. Then he shouted, it was a shout of fright. Joshua rushed over. Sticking out of the pile was a skull.

“Do you think it’s a bushman?” Joshua moved some more stones. The skeleton’s chest was part covered by a rotting shirt.
“I don’t think bushman had nike clothes.” Joshua shone the torch over the skull, the back of it was damaged. “Looks as if he was bashed by a hammer.” He realised that he’d got one in his hand. “It looks like murder to me.”
“But who can it be?” Joshua was reminded of the old man’s tale about the jologist.”
“And who killed him?”
“Someone who wanted the gold for themselves?”
“Let’s take some rocks and find out if it’s real gold?" Joshua filled the bag while Gary covered up the skeleton, then made their way out of the cave.

They ate their lunch sitting on a rock and examined the stones in the bag. “Who can we ask? – Not your dad as were not supposed to be here.” Joshua had thought about that – he was going to ask the old man.

As they rode down the hill they passed Josh’s dad – he was staring despondently into his almost empty dam.

The old man was sitting against the wall of his shack. The boys emptied out the sack in front of him, Joshua wasn’t going to mention the skeleton. He rolled a cigarette as he picked over the stones, deep in thought. Joshua thought for a moment as the old man hesitated – maybe he had killed the jologist. After a while the man spoke. “It was probably ten years ago,” he was staring vacantly into the distance, “that the joligist came here. He was a tall, thin man with a lot of fair hair. He swung his head towards Joshua “Like yours.” The old man looked away again. “He rode a motorbike, I remember it had orange mudguards. He stopped for a few days, your dad was away buying two bulls at an auction. He went into the farmhouse, your mum gave him food I think.” The old man turned and fixed his stare on Joshua again. When your dad returned I remember there was some shouting. Your mum wasn’t happy you know. They’d been married for five years and I know that she’d wanted a baby. But that’s by the way, as you came along later.” The old man looked away again.

“So did he find gold?” The old man shook his head. “No, it was a worthless seam of yellow quartz. Then he just left.” The old man raised his eyebrows, then lapsed into some mumblings. The boys left him.

“Why didn’t you tell him about the skeleton?” Gary whispered. Joshua was deep in thought.
“Because . . . well I don’t know really . . .” Three days later he knew. The pumps had been going nonstop in the heatwave. Joshua rode past the dam. A rusty object was poking out of the water. The sun glinted on what looked like the mudguard of a motorbike – and it was orange.