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The Ghost at Doringkloof

Chapter 7
Bouwer's Ghost

Keith Tankard
22 August 2004

Go to:
Contents Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue


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It was nearly midnight when the ghost hunters emerged on the plateau above the kloof. There was no moon and the dark ceiling of stars shed little light, causing the boys to scramble and slip in the inadequate glow of their torches.

"Should've brought better batteries," Pepper muttered, looking at his knees. They were grazed and muddy through a careless step in the gully.

"At least we could've thought to check them, you know," said Rajit. "Maybe next time we should plan better."

"If there is a next time," Pete butted in. "Don't know if I want a next time, what with snakes and ghosts and things."

"It'll be easier here over the open veld," said Lwazi. "At least we can't slip and fall now."

He had, of course, forgotten about tufts of grass that snatched at unsuspecting ankles. There were also the sudden holes which appeared out of nowhere, like the many secret entrances to a vast underworld labyrinth.

"What makes these tunnels?" Lwazi asked, having fallen heavily into one. He had grown up in the town and had never seen such things before.

"My father says they're aardvarks," said Rajit. "They come out at night and dig for white ants."

Their torches were now no more than pale glows, forcing them to concentrate for all their worth on the ground ahead. As a result, they didn't see a dim shape loom out of the forbidding darkness.

Pepper stumbled into it, lost his balance and crashed headlong into the thick grass beyond. The creature let out a sorrowful bleat, staggered to its feet and disappeared into the dark. The boys laughed nervously as Pepper scrambled up.

"Goats!" he muttered. "Whoever would have thought we'd stumble into goats in the dark."

At that point Rajit unexpectedly grabbed his leader's arm. Pepper squawked, then shook himself free.

"Don't do that, Rajit," he commanded, attempting to overcome his fright with an air of authority.

"Look at the Bouwer place," Rajit whispered. "I'm sure I saw a flash of light from one of the windows."

The house was directly in front of them now but still invisible in the dark. The boys switched off their torches and watched carefully, hardly daring to breath. Nothing happened.

"Maybe one of our torches flashed on a pane of glass," Pepper suggested hopefully.

"Don't think so," Rajit answered. "It wasn't like that, you know. The light was sort of . . . sort of soft . . . and coming from inside the house and all."

"Well, there's nothing there now," Pepper said with finality. "Come on. We can't wait here forever."

Rajit's vision, however, had disturbed them all and they moved forward nervously. They were ready to be scared at almost any noise as they dragged their unwilling feet towards the house.

The rusty gate squeaked eerily as Pepper thrust it open. Now at last they stood at the threshold of the great front door. It yawned before them, tempting them in.

Lwazi suddenly snatched at Pepper's arm, causing their hero to gasp quite audibly. This time there was no hiding it and he didn't try.

"Will you stop grabbing me like that," he muttered. "It's bad enough to be looking for ghosts without you people scaring the wits out of me."

"Uxolo!" Lwazi whispered his apology. "I thought I heard something . . . a sound . . . from inside the house."

"What was it?" asked Rajit, his voice sounding quite otherworldly.

"Andiyazi," Lwazi whispered. "I don't know . . . it was . . . it was sort of . . . like a hiss."

"Like a snake?" asked Pepper.

"Please don't let's start hearing snakes," Pete pleaded. "You won't catch me going into the house if there's a snake in there."

"No, not a snake," Lwazi assured him. "Sort of like . . . like someone hisses to warn you of something."

"I didn't hear anything," said Pepper.

"Nor me," Rajit added. "Let's go in before anything else happens otherwise you're not going to get me moving in any direction."

Pepper led them through the doorway. If it was dark outside, it was blacker than black within. They could have been in a cave, deep underground.

Each could feel the blackness closing in. Each wanted to run. Then they heard it - a smothered sound echoing down the passage. Under ordinary circumstances it might have been a stifled giggle, skidding through the nose of somebody struggling not to laugh. In the dark of the haunted house, however, it sent shivers down their spine.

Both Pete and Rajit grabbed Pepper at the same moment. He screamed silently before he could help himself.

"Stop it, both of you!" he commanded, finding his voice. "Do you have to grab me every time you get a fright?"

"What is it?" whispered Lwazi.

"I don't know," Pepper replied crossly. "It's stopped now."

"I want to go home," said Pete, his voice no more than a croak.

"We've come here," Pepper stated firmly, trying to convince even himself, "to see if we can find a ghost. A ghost can't hurt us if we stick with each other."

"You're right," Rajit agreed, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. "Let's see what made that noise."

Their eyes had adjusted slightly to the dark and they could make out blurs against a black background, doorways leading out from a central passage. They moved forward, their hands out like sleep-walkers. Suddenly Rajit kicked something large in front of him. It was made of metal and it clanged loudly as it rolled away.

"I think I kicked the bucket," he whispered and began to giggle at his rather bad joke.

"Look, it's no use continuing in the dark like this," said Pepper. "I'm going to use a torch. And do stop giggling, Rajit. It wasn't that funny."

As Pepper fumbled the switch, pale light leaped down the passage. It had an immediate cheering effect and the hunters felt their spirits lift.

"That's better," Pete sighed. "I don't think I've ever been so frightened in all my life."

"Let's search each room, one by one," suggested Lwazi. "That way we'll find anything that's hiding here."

The first door opened to their right and led into what must have been a vast dining-room. It had a ceiling of pressed metal, forming an intricate pattern amidst cobwebs. At the far end was a fireplace of dark marble.

Then Pepper whistled. "Look at this," he said.

He shone the torch along the floor. Thick dust lay everywhere but there was a clear set of footprints, a track leading across the room and through the door at the far end.

"Someone's been here," Pete whispered.

"And judging by the steps," Pepper added, "I should think they were made very recently. Come on. Let's follow them."

They passed into the next room. It was enormous and had clearly been the kitchen. A broken cupboard stood at one end, while beneath a shattered window was a rusting sink. Cobwebs hung everywhere and every surface held a thick layer of dust.

The footprints were clear and another set joined them from the passage to their left. Each led across the room to a great wooden box which stood in the opposite corner. No one could even guess its purpose. They were impressed, however, by its size for it was large enough to hold a grown person with ease.

The prints led to its side where they were joined by a host of other tracks. They then all disappeared together, as if some creature or creatures had walked across the room and promptly vanished from this world.

"You're surely not going to look in there?" Pete asked, a feeling of panic gripping his heart.

"We must," Pepper whispered bravely. "It's the only way to get to the bottom of this ghost thing."

"Hayi!" Lwazi stated firmly. "I've gone as far as I want. I don't want to see ghosts if they really do exist."

Rajit too had no wish to peek but he suddenly felt an imprudent desire to impress his friends with his courage. This was his great moment. "I'll go," he said and wondered later why he couldn't keep his mouth shut. For the moment, however, it was too late and so he reached for Lwazi's torch.

Rajit started to make his way hesitantly forward, his heart somewhere in his throat, preventing his swallowing. Then he heard it . . . the sound . . . like some hideous snort. It came from inside the very box towards which he was moving. He stopped dead in his tracks, ready to turn and flee.

At that point whatever was hiding there decided to emerge. It gave out a shriek and up it stood, followed by another form and then a third. The ghost hunters saw hideous faces floating up in front of them, caught in the pale light of a torch whose batteries were about to fail.

Three heads bobbed, with bloody lips pulled back over slobbering teeth, emitting funny gurgling sounds. Then hands appeared . . . several of them, waving and clasping the bodiless faces . . . and the phantom began climbing out.

The friends waited not a second longer. They turned and bolted for the door in one frantic movement, their wails making them like many banshees in flight. Through the vast dining-room they sprinted, down the passage and out into the garden.

They stumbled on through the veld, crashing into thorn trees and tripping in the grass until they could run no more. Later, much later, they were able to boast of all the records they might have broken that night. For the moment, however, they thought only to put as much distance between themselves and the thing.

"That was it!" Pepper gasped, when finally they stopped to rest. "That many-headed thing was definitely Bouwer's ghost . . . or a zombie at least! It was infinitely bigger than any thikoloshe!"

Pepper expected comment but there was none. His friends had been struck quite dumb. He flicked on the torch and peered at their faces in the feeble light. He found only Pete and Lwazi. Rajit had disappeared.

Keith Tankard
22 August 2004