The Ghost at Doringkloof

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All that afternoon and the following day Mr Chetty taught them everything he knew about climbing. Higher and higher up the tree they went until they were abseiling from that same branch upon which Lwazi had sat when strafing Mrs Rabe's house three days earlier.

Mr Chetty also taught them how to belay, using the extra rope as a precaution in case the abseiler should fall. It was too dangerous not to, he explained. Pete's accident was a good example of what could happen if they were careless.

Belaying proved fairly simple to learn. The second rope was tied by a special knot to the waist of the abseiler and was then held by an anchor person higher up. If the climber slipped, his fall would quickly be stopped by the person above.

The anchor person in turn was securely fastened to the tree by a third cord so he couldn't accidentally tumble off the branch. The belay rope was then passed over the right shoulder, allowing his back and hands to act together as a powerful but swift brake.

They took it in turns to learn the art and, for practice, Mr Chetty tied a heavy sack to the end of the rope. This was dropped from one of the lower branches and it had to be stopped before hitting the ground.

"It's easy!" Pete declared scornfully after each boy had had a few practices without mishap. "Why don't we belay each other now?"

"Not until we practise from higher branches," Mr Chetty answered firmly and proceeded further up the tree. He pulled the sack up after him.

"Come on, Lwazi," he called. "You show us first."

Lwazi climbed to a branch just above Rajit's father, immensely proud of being asked to show the way. He tied himself to the tree trunk, passed the belaying rope over his shoulder and round his back, then took up the slack.

"Kulungile!" he called and down the sack tumbled.

It was an instant disaster. Lwazi wasn't properly ready and the sudden weight caused the rope to leap from his hands. Before he knew what was what, the thick nylon cord was hugging his bare legs instead of his fully clothed back.

The sack plummeted, its speed checked only by the rope's friction on Lwazi's naked flesh. Then it hit the ground with a thump, split open and spilled its contents in a sudden dribble.

"She's dead!" Pete called, but Lwazi wasn't amused. Apart from damaged pride, his legs bore painful stripes where the skin had been cut and burnt. In places the rope had even melted, leaving white nylon streaks on his ebony calves.

Mr Chetty was clearly upset. "If you had been on rope," he said to all and sundry, "it would be contents of head spilt on ground. Come on, boys, must do properly, you know."

That brought them to attention. They concentrated harder from then on and the sack hit the ground only once more. On that occasion, however, it had almost stopped, so it was regarded as saved.

Because they were now so high in the tree, Mr Chetty also insisted that each belay the other when climbing. Going up or coming down, therefore, they were learning to use the ropes.

The training continued throughout the following week. Mr Chetty met them in the park after work each day and from then on it was practice, practice and still more practice, up and down the great pine tree.

By Friday they felt confident enough to begin making plans to visit Doringkloof Farm. When the school bell sounded for break, therefore, they proceeded quickly to the bicycle shed where they could discuss in private.

"We could go next Saturday," Lwazi suggested. "My family will be away so maybe, if I say I'm spending the night with Pepper, they'll say yes."

"I think Poppie would agree," Pete said hopefully. "I haven't had a whipping since I went home smelling of the Vietcong dog. But I'll go anyway," he added defiantly, "and face the thrashing afterwards."

Rajit believed his father would hardly object. "He's always saying that we children don't spend enough time in the country, like he did when he was small. He'll probably make us promise not to be foolish," he added, "and to use the ropes only on smallish rock faces."

They all nodded their acceptance. They'd agree to anything if it would allow them to go camping.

"We'll ride out," said Pepper.

"What about me?" Pete protested. He had no bicycle and it was too far to walk.

"One of us will lift you on the cross-bar," Lwazi promised.

"And we'll sleep the night in that little cave below the waterfall," Pepper decided. "The place called Jacob's Slide and Ladder."

"We'll spend the day climbing some of the rocks," Rajit said excitedly. "We should also find plenty of places where we can abseil."

"And we can make a campfire," Pete added, "and roast marshmallows." He had never roasted a marshmallow but he had heard about it and it was his eternal dream to do so.

"And that night, when it's late and really dark," Lwazi joined in, "we'll go up and explore Bouwer's house - see if we can find his ghost."

There was a sudden silence, almost as if Lwazi had said something that should have remained unsaid. At that precise moment a cloud slipped across the sun, momentarily hiding it. A passing shadow brushed over them, sending a chill rippling through their veins.

"What do we do if we find Bouwer's ghost?" Rajit asked. He stole a glance over his shoulder, almost without noticing. There was nobody there.

"We'll destroy it," Pete answered enthusiastically. "We'll take a silver nail and stab it through its heart."

"You're thinking about a werewolf, not a ghost," Pepper contradicted him. "And you need a silver bullet made from a crucifix to kill one."

Pete had never been a great reader. To him werewolves, ghosts and vampires were all much the same thing. And as for silver crucifixes . . . he really had no idea what a crucifix was except that it sounded very Catholic. Since his own parents were strictly Dutch Reformed, however, he thought it best not even to repeat the word.

"We'd never get Thami to join us," Lwazi laughed. "She'd be afraid the ghost might be a thikoloshe."

"What's a thikoloshe?" Rajit asked in a hushed tone.

"It's an evil spirit that comes at night," Lwazi explained. "The thikoloshe is blamed for making young girls pregnant."

"I've heard that some Zulus even put their beds on bricks to get out of its way," Pepper said.

"That's nuts!" Pete exclaimed. "How can you escape a ghost by putting your bed on bricks?"

"The thikoloshe is not really a ghost," Lwazi answered. "It's sort of like a cross between a ghost and a goblin - and, because it's very short, it can't climb very high. The bricks put the bed out of reach."

They all laughed and so involved were they in their discussion that no-one heard the bell ring for the end of break. It was Rajit who became suddenly aware that the playground was completely empty.

"Hey!" he said. "We're late for class."

The other three looked up with alarm. It was true. Not a soul was in sight. There was instant panic as each boy grabbed his bag and charged towards the school building.

Mrs Owl stopped in mid-sentence as the door was flung open and the four trooped in, shame-faced and breathless. A stick of chalk was poised in her right claw and her beak twitched indignantly beneath her enormous spectacles.

"And this?" she snapped, her eyes fixed on them in an unblinking stare. "I trust there is a satisfactory explanation?"

"Sorry, miss," the Intrepid Four mumbled in unison.

"Didn't hear the bell, miss," Pepper stammered, the full weight of blame resting upon his humbled shoulders.

"Didn't hear the bell!" Mrs Owl chimed to the rest of the class. "Didn't hear the bell!"

She turned her attention again to the mischief makers. "Do we need to purchase Big Ben for you?" she charged, her beak twitching in the excitement of her sarcasm. "Or what about an air-raid siren?"

The class laughed nervously, pleased that for once they were on Mrs Owl's side of the joke. At the same time, however, each was afraid that, at any moment, everyone would be suddenly bundled up with the four in some vile punishment.

"My snakes can taste a snack," she hissed at the boys. "Perhaps you should sit before you become a morsel for them."

The boys dropped to the floor, taking the most direct route possible. They were only too grateful to have Mrs Owl ignore them for the rest of the period as she clucked her way through the lesson.

Pepper, however, was troubled with a thought which nagged at the far reaches of his mind. As they were stampeding into the classroom after break, he had glanced back to the bicycle shed. Was it his imagination or had he seen a shadowy form huddled there?

Certainly it was no more than a passing glimpse and the figure was hidden in the shade. Yet it was positioned close to where they had been sitting and Pepper had the feeling - no, he was positive - that the shape had belonged to Jumbo Rabe.

If he was right, then Jumbo had been snooping on their conversation. What was he up to? Pepper wondered. He guessed that they would find out soon enough and, if correct, he was certain that no good would come of it.