The Ghost at Doringkloof

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Below the pool was a cataract where the stream cascaded over several ledges. To its right, at the kloof's foot, a cave had been scoured by action of wind and water. That was the spot which Pepper had selected for their camp.

"We must have wood . . . lots of it," said Pepper, once their meagre belongings had been safely stored. "It's going to be a long night."

A nearby wattle tree, old and very dead, provided the fuel. It was merely a matter of dragging branches to where the fire would be. Even so, it was almost dark by the time the first match was struck.

The flames licked hungrily at the dry branches, swallowing the twigs as tasty scraps. Flickering light pushed back the darkness, creating a circle of ghostly colours and dancing shadows.

The braai wasn't everything they had imagined. For a start, they had no grid which meant the meat had to frazzle on the coals. They had also forgotten the forks, so their hands scorched when saving their food.

"I've burnt the hairs on my fingers," Pete moaned after rescuing a morsel of boerewors. He sniffed his hand. "Sis!" he said. "It stinks!"

"Lucky that's all you've burnt," groaned Lwazi, flicking his hand in pain. "I've just blistered my fingers!"

They nevertheless ate with relish, scarcely noticing the charcoal which clung to their meat. The poor light also hid the fact that much of it was still raw.

"I'm going to get the fire going again," Lwazi announced afterwards. "There's still lots of time before we have to set off to look for Bouwer's ghost."

He wandered off to the wattle tree, his torch bobbing here and there in his search for a good log. Suddenly he yelped and leapt backwards.

"Inyoka!" he called. "Snake! Snake!"

"Where?" the boys cried almost in unison, and charged to his side.

"There!" Lwazi said, pointing.

He shone the torch between the tangle of branches, framing the snake in a circle of light. Its body formed a loose curve on an open patch of earth.

"What is it?" Pete asked in awe.

"Looks like a mamba," Rajit answered in a whisper.

"No mambas here," Pepper murmured. "Only at the coast."

"What then?" Pete asked.

"An adder," Lwazi said. "Look at the pattern on its back. It's definitely an adder."

"But an adder's fat," Pete objected.

"That's a puff adder," Lwazi argued. "This is a night adder."

The snake began to move, slipping effortlessly across the ground like mercury on glass. The boys watched, fascinated, as it vanished into the grass.

"Should've killed it," Pete said.

"No," Pepper answered firmly. He was reminded of how he had senselessly almost destroyed a crab that very morning.

"But it might've bitten us," Pete objected. "And a bite from an adder is fatal."

"My father says a snake doesn't strike except to protect itself, you know," Rajit informed them. "It'll move away if it can."

The reptile was by now safe and no amount of hunting would have revealed its lair. The boys therefore turned to the task of dragging logs to the fire.

"I'm going to brush my teeth," Lwazi announced as soon as the flames were biting hungrily at the tinder dry wood. He rummaged through his bag, located the brush and paste, and set off. Quickly the rushing stream drowned the sound of his friends.

"I'm coming with," a voice called behind him.

Lwazi had thought he was alone. Thoughts of ghosts were foremost in his mind. He was therefore startled almost witless by the unexpected voice.

"Suka, Pete," he complained. "Don't do that."

"Sorry," said Pete. "Just thought you might like company."

"I do like company," Lwazi assured him. "Just don't sneak up like that and give me frights."

Lwazi squatted beside the stream, dunked the brush into the bubbling water and squeezed some paste. He began to brush with gusto.

Pete watched him, fascinated. "Can you borrow me your brush when you've finished?" he asked. "Wouldn't mind if I brushed my teeth as well."

Lwazi paused in mid-stroke. "Use your own," he mumbled.

"Don't have one," Pete answered. "Never had a brush."

"You mean you've never cleaned your teeth?" Lwazi asked in astonishment.

"Nope," said Pete.

"Yo!" Lwazi exclaimed. "Well, you can't use mine." And he resumed his vigorous brushing.

Pete glanced around for a place to sit but darkness shrouded everything and he had no torch. He guessed at a suitable spot, and sat with a bump. There was a stab of pain as he felt two sharp needles penetrate his skin.

"Eina!" he wailed and scrambled quickly back onto his feet.

"Uthini?" asked Lwazi, quickly rinsing his mouth. "What's the matter?"

"I've been bitten," Pete moaned. "I sat on something and it bit me."

"Where?" Lwazi flashed his torch to where Pete had been.

The long grass was disturbed at the point where Pete had been standing but there was no sign of what might have been hiding there.

"It could've been a snake," Pete whimpered. "I think it might've been a snake what bit me."

"Let's see," Lwazi ordered.

Pete turned his back and lowered his pants. He bent over, clutching his ankles with both hands, to give Lwazi a better view of his rear end. Two drops of blood blinked in the light of the torch. They were spaced a centimetre apart and oozed from neat punctures in his skin.

"Pepper! Rajit!" Lwazi suddenly yelled. "Pete's been bitten by a snake! He's going to die!"

"Wait!" muffled voices answered. "We're coming."

A light flashed and two shadows could be seen, moving rapidly in their direction.

"Show us," Pepper demanded, as he and Rajit crashed through tall reeds and leapt onto the bank.

Pete bent over again. He started whimpering as he clutched his ankles, his bottom in the air for general inspection.

"What type of snake?" Rajit asked. "Did you see it?"

"No," Pete said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "A night adder, I guess."

"You didn't spot it, Lwazi?" Pepper demanded.

"I only heard Pete cry out," Lwazi explained. "By the time I got here, it'd gone."

"What you gonna do?" Pete asked.

"Dunno," said Pepper. He knew nothing about snakes and certainly not about treatment for their bites.

"Poppie says the only thing is to cut the wound with a sharp knife," Pete suggested. "Then you suck the poison out."

"No ways!" Pepper exclaimed. "Put my mouth to your bum! Not a chance!"

"But I might die!" Pete moaned.

"We'll come to the funeral," said Pepper. "I'm not going to suck no poison from anybody's bum! In any case, we haven't got a knife."

"You've got to do something," Pete pleaded.

Pepper racked his brains to remember any solution for a snakebite but none would come to mind.

"Try sitting in the stream," Rajit suggested. "Maybe the water will wash it clean."

Pete hurriedly discarded his shoes and socks, and kicked off his pants. He then planted himself in the water, scarcely noticing the cold.

"Don't get bitten by a crab!" Lwazi called, and started laughing at the thought of a crab nipping Pete's frozen rear end.

"It won't work," Pepper decided. "The poison will be in Pete's bloodstream by now. It'll be pumping through his veins, heading for his heart. Sitting in water won't help."

"I'm beginning to feel faint," Pete whimpered. "Won't one of you suck the poison out?"

"My dad said people once used to rub something called pot ash into a snakebite," Rajit said.

"What's pot ash?" asked Pepper.

"Dunno," Rajit confessed. "It must have been something that somehow stopped the poison, you know."

"Perhaps it's the ash that sticks to the outside of a pot," suggested Lwazi. "You know the three-legged pot that you put on the fire?"

"We haven't got a three-legged pot," moaned Pete. "And in the meantime I'm going to die."

"But we do have ash," Pepper argued. "Surely ordinary ash must be almost the same as pot ash?"

"Quick, Pete," said Rajit. "Get to the fire, put some ash on the bite."

Hurriedly he and Pepper helped their friend back to the camp. They then raked as much ash from the blazing logs as possible.

"Maybe we should cauterise it . . . you know, burn it with a red hot stick," Pepper suggested, waving a glowing stick in Pete's direction. "I'm sure that's what they would've done in the olden days."

Pete leapt away. "Not a chance!" he cried. He wasted little time, however, in smearing copious amounts of warm ash onto his wound and watched as it changed instantly from grey to charcoal on his damp skin.

"Hope it works," he muttered. "It's my last chance, what with no friends prepared to suck the poison out!"

Lwazi in the meantime was still beside the stream. He was rustling in the tall grass of the bank where Pete had sat, exploring carefully in the light of Pepper's torch.

"Hey!" he suddenly shouted. "Hey! I've found Pete's snake!"

There was a crashing through the reeds and tall grass as Lwazi hurried over to them. Then he began laughing and moments passed before could speak.

"This is Pete's snake," he gasped at last, holding something in his hand.

Pepper and Rajit peered at it in the pale light of the fire. They saw only a twig bearing two long white thorns, each almost the length of one of their fingers. The tips were exactly a centimetre apart.

"Pete!" Pepper exclaimed as the truth dawned on him. "Pete, you idiot! You've been bitten by a thorn tree!"

He fisted his friend in the ribs, and he too began to laugh. "And to think," he said, "that you wanted us to suck the poison out!"

Pete giggled, embarrassed. He was feeling better already, eager again to face the world and its thousand dangers. "I was only bluffing," he said unconvincingly. "But you would've sucked it if it was a real snake bite."

"No ways!" his three friends chorused.

"Never mind, Pete," Rajit said. "At least it won't be your ghost haunting the waterfall! Now let's go and find the real thing!"