Acacia - Secrets of an African Painting

by Paul Bondsfield

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX - FOLLOW THE CROSS

  Feeling dazed and tired after the knock on my head, I lay flat out on the ground by the car, staring up at the blue dome of sky and wondering if we really were now on the trail of the diamonds. I had started to feel as if we could be the ones to discover the treasure after so many years and an excitement had started to build inside me.

  For the moment though, all I could really concentrate on was the throbbing in my head and the cool, wet towel Tara had wrapped around it to stop the flow of blood. Swimming back across the lake had been a wearing task, although Tara was a strong swimmer and had supported me most of the way. I raised my head once more and looked across the surface of the water, but the entrance through the rock face had once again disappeared. The lake must have grown since the Matabele had used this place, otherwise the problem of getting sacks of rock in and out would have been too great.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’ Tara looked concerned, but was also obviously eager to get on. I forced a smile but was not keen on moving for a little while yet.

  ‘I think we should stay here tonight.’ I ventured. ‘For one thing, it’s a good camp site and for another, we’ll be able to see where the Southern Cross is and get our bearings more accurately when the sun’s gone.

  She looked doubtful and I hoped she wouldn’t pick up on the obvious point that the constellations moved across the sky as the night wore on and we were not totally sure what time of night the men had run, or even exactly what time of year.

  ‘Okay,‘ she said, ‘but we go again first thing, before the sun comes up. I want to get a good start on the day. We will have to keep watch tonight to see where the Cross moves from and to and then we can mark it on our map which should give us a vector to work to.’

  I should have known she would have it all worked out. I nodded, appreciatively and let my eyelids droop and soon fell into a deep sleep.

  The next thing I knew, Tara was shaking me and telling me to get up, it was time to go. I looked around and could see the very first streaks of pink in the sky as the sun started to make its presence felt for yet another morning. I looked at my watch and estimated that I had slept for the best part of twelve hours, a marathon rest which left me feeling groggy at first, but once up and about, I was refreshed and ready for the day. My head still felt sore, but the throbbing had subsided and a couple of aspirin would soon see me right.

  Tara had obviously stayed awake last night as when she spread out the map, it was marked with a series of dots and times, relating to regular takings of the Cross’ position, which when joined up, created an ark in a roughly southerly direction from our current position. She had then extended two lines from the point we were at now to dissect the arc, giving us a cake slice of country to search for the scene from the painting.

  Looking at the diary again, we guessed that the men had gone into the cave around two or three o’clock in the morning as Frederick said it was “seven or eight hours dark”. This fact narrowed down our search somewhat as the stars moved only a relatively short distance in a couple of hours, so we concentrated on a slim segment of area to start with.

  The day was again hot and dusty and the temptation to close the windows and put on the air-conditioning was too great this time. It was almost surreal, driving through this ancient land, cocooned inside the glass and steel box with cool air hissing from the vents. It reminded me of going to safari parks back home when I was a kid, staring out at the countryside with the wild animals part of the scenery, but completely detached from what was going on, like watching it on TV, sensing sights and sounds, but no smells or anything to touch to make it real.

  We kept an eye on the mountains in the distance and could start to see a similarity to what was in the painting. The shape like a giant ‘W’ seemed to be forming, but one end was not quite right yet. Tara’s eyes shone with excitement as it seemed we were getting closer to our goal and she urged the car on faster and faster until I had to tell her sharply to slow down from fear of having an accident.

  Then, suddenly, the mountain shape seemed to match. The ‘W’ was there in front of us and Tara slowed the car to a halt, staring intently into the distance. She grabbed the painting and jumped out, holding it in front of her like a holy grail, a look of almost religious intensity on her face.

  ‘We’ve found it.’ She said it so quietly that I almost missed it. ‘We’ve found it.’ This time she yelled, making me jump a little.

  ‘Well, technically we haven’t found it yet.’ I injected a note of caution, wary of getting too excited just yet.

  ‘Yes but look, how far away can it be?’ She asked, the merest hint of ferocity tingeing her voice, annoyed that I had spoiled her moment, even if it was only to stress a fact.

  ‘Not far, I guess.’ I said, looking around for any sign of a tree or a village. There was nothing, nothing for miles that I could see. In the distance, I could see some trees that probably marked the line of the river and a little closer were some rocks, those curious standing stones that can be found across the region, but there was no acacia and no village.

  ‘Tara, there’s nothing here.’ I said it as gently as I could, waiting for the eruption of denial from her. None came though. She looked around too, peering into the distance all round us. She ran to the car and pulled out a pair of binoculars and then jumped onto the bonnet and then roof for a better view. As she performed a three-sixty degree search of the veld, I could see her face dropping and then become almost frantic as she found nothing.

  ‘Let’s drive over towards those rocks.’ She said, pointing to the standing stones I had seen already. ‘Maybe there is something behind them that we can’t see from here.’ Her face was eager and nervy and my heart sank as I realised that she was already taking this hard. The chance of us finding anything had always been remote, but the empty landscape was the final straw as far as I was concerned. I was in two minds whether to face facts now that we should just pack up and get out of here, or keep searching for a while longer, unsure which option would affect Tara worst.

  ‘Come on, let’s go.’ She yelled at me, already in the driver’s seat, engine running, taking the decision away from me.

  I jumped in and we set off across the dusty surface towards the rocks. It didn’t take long to get there and Tara slid the car to a halt once more, jumping out almost before it had come to a complete stop. She ran to the stones, jumping and clambering her way to the top of the nearest for a better view. She raised the binoculars to her eyes and started to frantically swivel this way and that in search of anything that would give her a clue. I stood by the car and watched as she slowed her search and then as her hand dropped to her side, the binoculars hanging limply, her head drooping forward. She slowly slumped to a sitting position, just staring out at nothing, the sobs starting to come now as defeat set in.

  I couldn’t move and I just stood and stared at the scene, the ancient rocks, and standing squat as they had done for maybe millions of years, unchanging as the purple mountains in the distance. Tara gathered herself and jumped down from her perch and started towards me, one hand resting on her hip and the other raised to her face, wiping away the tears.

  Just then, something stirred inside me. I had seen this before, this scene was familiar somehow. Déjà-vu? No, something else, I had seen it, recently.

  My sudden yell startled Tara and her mouth dropped in amazement as I jumped up and down, arms in the air, dancing a little jig on the spot. I was speechless and all I could do was point and gesticulate to her as she rushed up to me, not sure if I was having some sort of seizure by the look on her face.

  ‘Look behind you.’ I managed to gasp, ‘Just bloody well look behind you.’

  She turned and looked back, staring intently, but puzzled as to what she was supposed to be looking at. ‘What, James? What can you see?’ She had started to smile a little, my mirth becoming infectious.

  I ran to the car and grabbed the painting once more and held it in front of her face. ‘Now look,
can’t you see it?’

  She looked at the painting and then at the rocks and back at the painting again, realisation dawning as she made the connection I had just made.

  ‘My god! It’s the village.’ She had it. She could see it too.

  These rocks were the subject of Frederick’s painting, there never had been a village, just rocks that looked like huts, sitting out here on the veld for millennia, forever providing a landmark for others to follow.

  I started to look around for any sign of a tree stump, but could see nothing. Using the painting again as a guide, I cast around, trying to figure out where it would have been. Then I realised that it was where the car was sitting. I jumped in and reversed it out of the way. Once we had pulled the grass up from where the car had been, there it was. The dark remains of a tree, now nothing more than a circle of rotten stump almost flat to the ground.

  We jumped up and hugged each other, whooping for joy that at last we had found it. The place in the painting and perhaps the place Frederick had buried his treasure so long ago.