The Ghost at Doringkloof

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"If you're looking for a real adventure," Jelly said during dinner, lowering her voice as if afraid of being overheard, "you have to find a place where it'd be sure to happen. The problem though is that you'd be too afraid to go there."

"Now, Gillian," said Mrs Pepperoni. "Don't put any more ideas into Luigi's head. He's in enough trouble with Mrs Rabe as it is."

"Yes, but those were just silly games," said Jelly. "I'm talking about real adventures, of ghosts and things."

"Stop it this instant," her mother warned. "No more talking about Martians, Medusas, ghosts . . . or any other rubbish like that."

Nevertheless, as they resumed eating, Jelly gave Pepper a gentle kick on his shin and caught his eye when he looked up. It was a look he knew only too well, the "I'll-tell-you-later" glance. He hurried through his meal, hoping to rush off quickly but eventually had to wait until they had all finished.

Jelly too proved more annoying than usual. She kept looking at him, grinning widely and winking periodically. Eventually, however, dinner was over and Pepper quickly rushed through to her bedroom and scrambled onto her bed, huddling close to his sister while she told the story.

"I have heard," she explained, hugging Zitch tightly to her chest and kissing its head, "I have heard that ghosts are sometimes seen at Doringkloof Farm."

Jelly gave him another knowing glance. "Not that I've seen one there, of course," she hastily added, "but my friend Thami says she saw something strange only the other night."

Pepper knew that Thami was Lwazi's sister but he wondered how she had gone out to the farm (and at night time at that) without Lwazi knowing. He'd have to check up on this one, he thought.

"I didn't believe her at first," Jelly continued, "but after she had repeated her story, describing the ghostly apparition of Old Man Bouwer to a T - well, it could only have been his ghost she had seen."

Although there was a legend of Bouwer's ghost roaming at night at Doringkloof Farm, Pepper knew that Jelly's story was nonsense. It would nevertheless be an excuse to get his friends together for a weekend camp and that was enough reason to continue listening.

Bouwer's farm was famous for its cliffs, its waterfall and the rock-pools in which to swim. It was a perfect setting for adventure during the day, and at night . . . well, what if the legend of Bouwer's ghost just happened to be true?

In any case, wasn't Rajit dead keen to teach them to climb? There would be plenty of opportunity amongst those cliffs, he thought. During mid-morning break the following day, therefore, Pepper huddled his friends near the bicycle shed to plan. Of course, nobody believed Jelly's story but all agreed it would be a thrilling weekend nevertheless.

"We must go on Saturday," Pete decided.

Pepper and Lwazi nodded but Rajit dampened their spirits. "My father would never allow me to take the climbing rope, you know," he said. "Not yet. He's only just taught me to climb."

"Can't you at least find out?" Pepper persisted.

"I'll ask," Rajit replied, "but I know the answer. He'll say it's too dangerous."

Rajit was partially right. They couldn't go until his father had taught them to abseil properly. He nevertheless made them an offer they couldn't refuse.

"He'll show us this weekend," Rajit informed them. "He says we can practise abseiling down the old pine tree and all."

That Saturday, therefore, the friends gathered at their favourite tree. Suddenly it was no longer a B-52 bomber but a giant cliff which held out an infinity of climbing prospects.

Mr Chetty was a big man, with large hands and a sizeable tummy. His skin was very dark, hinting at the part of India in which his own father had once lived, although he himself had been born in South Africa.

He began the lesson, showing them the knots and how to abseil. "Modern climbers use slings, you know," he explained, "but I don't have, so I show you old-fashioned method."

He tossed one end of the rope over a lower branch, the one they used for the parachute jump, and pulled it.

"Always make sure both lengths equal," he explained in his booming voice. "You don't tie rope to anything, so if one length is shorter than other . . . you fall."

He demonstrated by walking backwards over the grass, pulling firmly on both strands of the rope. Suddenly the shorter length slipped through his hands, and whipped up and over the branch. The lesson was clear.

He started again, faced the tree and straddled the two rope lengths. The strands were then pulled up behind his back, wound forward round his chest and tossed over opposite shoulders, to fall to the ground at his heels.

"Your left hand holds both ropes behind," Mr Chetty explained. "That's brake, allowing you to slide fast or more slow."

He illustrated by reversing from the tree, the ropes slipping through his clenched hand. When he closed his fingers firmly, he stopped. When he opened them, he could move again.

"Right hand holds rope in front," he continued. "It keeps you upright and all. Make sure you don't let go because you can tipple over and find yourself upside down."

Rajit's father was a serious man who accepted no nonsense. He made each boy practise the technique several times before he was happy that everyone knew what to do. He then prepared to climb the trunk himself and give them all a hands-on example of how to abseil.

"Chetty's dad's too fat," Pete whispered. "He'll never climb that tree."

"You wanna bet?" Rajit asked. "This trunk'll be nothing for him."

Mr Chetty looked up into the branches and patted the tree affectionately. Suddenly he took off, deftly using the gnarled bark as grips for his hands and feet. Although he was helped considerably by the angle at which the trunk leaned, the boys were nevertheless astounded at how easily he did it.

Once he was on his perch, Mr Chetty threw the rope over another branch higher up. He checked that both strands reached the ground before wrapping the cords skilfully round his body. He then began to walk backwards down the trunk, his left hand slowing his fall.

"It's Rajit's turn now," he said, once he was safely on the ground. "He's done it before so he knows what to do."

Rajit climbed the old pine, although not quite as skilfully as his father had done. He stood on the lower branch, leaning against the trunk for balance while wrapping himself in the ropes. He was aware that his friends were watching him and that made him feel nervous. Quickly he abseiled to the ground.

Pepper was next. Since he was good at climbing trees, he reached the branch with little trouble. Soon he had the ropes positioned as Mr Chetty had shown him and he looked down for the first time. Suddenly it wasn't quite so easy.

Although it was the same branch from which he parachuted so often, he was now standing on it and not swinging by his hands. The height was therefore that much greater. The thought of sitting on a rope and simply stepping off into space made the drop look immense.

When he saw the pool of faces looking up at him, however, he knew he had to do it. His mouth felt dry but he took a gulp, and stepped off the branch.

Immediately the rope took his weight but Pepper slid into an almost vertical position, his feet dangling in mid-air. He found he had moved both hands to the front of his body where they were gripping the ropes for all he was worth.

"No," Mr Chetty was instructing him. "Lie on rope. Let yourself hang outwards and all."

Pepper tried to obey. He wriggled until he could plant his feet on the trunk, then slid the rope through his left hand while keeping his legs in place. Slowly his body leaned away till he was almost in a reclining position.

Suddenly it felt better. He could now shuffle his feet down the trunk while his left hand took the strain, acting as brake. He even found he could relax his right hand altogether.

Pepper slipped to the ground and let the ropes fall. "That was great," he announced. "Can I go again?"

"Later," Mr Chetty said. "Now it's Lwazi's turn."

Lwazi came from East London and had lived in a suburb where there were no trees to climb. There were also no cliffs near his home to give him a sense of height. Yet he had already learned from Pepper's mistakes. Although he also hesitated before making the initial step into space, he nevertheless abseiled confidently, allowing his body to lean well away from the trunk.

"Good, good," Mr Chetty said, beaming and patting him vigorously on the back. "You make fine rock-climber, you know. And now you, please." He nodded in Pete's direction.

Pete was another matter altogether. The parachute leap from the B-52 frightened him but this was far, far higher. When the ropes had been secured, therefore, his nerve gave. He refused to go. "I won't," he said, and that was that.

Mr Chetty remained patient. He climbed up to Pete, taking a second rope with him. "We tie spare rope round waist," he explained, "and I belay from branch above. You can't fall then."

That saved the afternoon. Pete's fear partially left him and his hands tightened on the ropes. He made the step into nothing and then it was so very easy. Soon he was lying almost horizontal, his body parallel to the ground.

"Look, you guys - no hands!" he shouted, waving his right arm majestically to his friends below.

Suddenly, before anyone had time to shout a warning, his feet skidded on the trunk and his legs shot upwards, tugged by the now unsupported rope. For a moment, he hung there, his feet up and his bewildered face down. Only his left hand kept his body suspended in the cords.

Then he panicked and released the rope altogether. He began to slide, slowly at first but rapidly gaining speed. Mr Chetty tried to halt the fall but Pete was already too close to the ground. He landed on his head with a resounding thud.

For a moment he lay there, stunned, but slowly he opened his eyes to the circle of worried faces above him. He saw the enormous shadow of Rajit's father hurriedly slipping down the tree to join them.

Pete grinned. "Hey, Uncle" he shouted to Mr Chetty. "It's lucky I landed on my head, you know - at least I can't damage that!"

Everyone began to laugh with relief as he scrambled to his feet. Even Mr Chetty found it hard not to smile. "Come on," he said, giving Pete a slap on his rump. "Let's do it again. And no showing off this time."