10 pagesdangerous alliances

Wild And Dangerous Adventure Series

Dangerous Alliances Graham Vivian Lancaster For Sydney Jade, my granddaughter.

L TRAYBERRY PRESS

ALEXANDER HOUSE Incorporating

TRAYBERRY PRESS 29 Howick Road Pietermaritzburg 0836388813 First published: 2009 This edition 2009 Copyright 2009 Graham Vivian Lancaster Copyright 2009 in this published edition ALEXANDER HOUSE All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder and publisher.

First published 2009 ISBN: 978-0-9869707-1-9 Photograph – Land Rover – G.V.Lancaster Cover design: G.V. Lancaster / Taryn Duckham Distributed by ALEXANDER HOUSE.

Other works by the author: NOVELS: Wind Song Storm Song Strength Of ten SELF HELP: Everyone Can Do It Its Never Too Late Surviving The Ladder The Cost Of Money Who’s Shrinking Your Money?

The Happy Customer POETRY: Marks On My Soul Gypsey Whale Song Gravel Roads Fledgeling HUMOUR: Bert and Co. Bert Another Story Nothing For Mahala ADVENTURE SERIES: Wild and Dangerous Secrets of the Sea Cyclone Tracy Wrath Of The Gods

INDEX

1 Snow Hill Ranch 37 Ducking And Diving 60 Dangerous Alliances

SNOW HILL RANCH When the boys arrived home from Mr. Zondi’s they parked both Land Rovers by the garage and washed them.

“Which one do you want, S’bu?”

“Well – Mr. Zondi sort of gave you ‘Bush Cat,” he opened his hands.

“I was thinking that, but we were both involved in the rescue.”

“You jumped the break in the road and that is what he was referring to.”

“Well, I’m easy either way, but you did name ‘Mountain Goat,’ so you have first pick.”

“Sho!” S’bu rubbed his face as he looked at the two vehicles standing side by side, “Ok, I’ll take ‘Mountain Goat.”

“That’s fine, all fair and no fighting.”

“Thanks Darryl.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Gran and Mr. Zondi – but if you ever need to use ‘Bush Cat,’ it’s there for you. You know that anyway.”

“I do, brau, and the same goes for you with ‘Mountain Goat.’”

They shook hands and the bargain was sealed.

Gran and Granddad stood on the veranda of their home watching from a distance.

“It looks as though they have chosen their vehicles, Sheila.”

“Good.”

“I’ll bet big money washing those vehicles is an activity which isn’t going to last very long,” Grandfather remarked.

“Hmm, Devin, they are so excited and it gives me so much pleasure to see just how much they appreciated what we have given them,” Gran said proudly, “Yes, but that’s because they have never abused anything Nyathi, Sibongile and we have given them.”

“I brought them up right,” Gran sniffed.

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“You brought them up right? I was always under the impression their grandfather and their parents did that.”

“Well you were wrong – again.” She put her arm around Devin and together they walked into the house.

That night at dinner the boys were rather quiet, and after all this time Granddad thought he knew exactly what was brewing.

They needed to take their vehicles for a drive.

“I haven’t told you, but I have had my eye on a farm in the Drakensberg area for some time now. They called last week and said it has come on the market.”

The boys glanced at each other and stopped eating, waiting for Granddad to continue.

“When you were busy at the panel beaters, Gran and I took a ride up there early one morning and had another look at the place.” He saw their bitter disappointment that they hadn’t been invited along, but they nodded. No one could be in two places at once.

“What happened, Granddad,” S’bu asked eagerly and Granddad smiled.

“We liked it, but thought you might like to go up with us in the morning and see for yourselves. We will spend tomorrow night on Snow Hill, the following night with your parents, and then back here. Now sit and finish your food.”

“How big is the farm, Gran?” S’bu asked.

“Two thousand seven hundred hectares and there is a large dam with rainbow trout in.”

S’bu imagined himself waving a fly rod back and forth and didn’t think it would appeal to him.

“Hmm,” Darryl said, more because he had only seen a baked trout on his plate in a restaurant and hadn’t enjoyed it. Gran saw his enthusiasm dip and laughed.

“Fly fishing! Once you have caught a fish on fly you won’t want to fish any other way. I used to do it as a girl on my dad’s farm. I’ll show you.” The boys nodded so as not to hurt her feelings.

“OK, so what are you going to farm there, Granddad?”

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“Well Darryl, there are one thousand head of cattle on it now, but we can grow maize, potatoes, feed grass – a whole number of things.”

“It sounds like a beautiful place, so why is the farm up for sale, Granddad?” Darryl asked suspiciously.

“Well, it seems there have been a number of mishaps – unexplained things have happened there and the owners have found themselves short of money.”

Darryl flashed a glance at S’bu.

The boy’s interest suddenly perked up again and as soon as the meal was over they excused themselves and went to their room.

“Well, brau, it has really been a day for dropping bombshells.”

“That’s no lie, S’bu. Tomorrow we will see what this place looks like.”

“You don’t sound too keen.”

“Hey, I’m open minded. ‘It seems there have been a number of mishaps.’” He repeated Granddad’s words slowly as he watched S’bu.

“You aren’t thinking – someone is making it happen to chase the farmers away!” he blurted out.

“Exactly, but let’s go and see before we condemn the place,” Darryl said thoughtfully.

They were up early, had coffee and rusks and walked out to the Land Cruiser in the darkness.

“Gran and I thought we might take your Land Rovers for a ride?”

Well - there was no question of that not happening! Darryl went with Gran in Bush Cat, while S’bu travelled with Granddad in Mountain Goat. The boys drove to the main road, from where their grandparents took over.

The old Land Rovers were slow on the open road, but they kept a steady speed and the boys sat looking out at the scenery, wishing they would get there so they could drive.

They stopped at a restaurant outside Durban for breakfast and then on through Pietermaritzburg out towards the

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Drakensberg. They arrived at the farm just before noon and Granddad pointed as they drove along the gravel district road.

“This is where the farm starts, S’bu. This side of the road as well. There is the dam, and once Sheila has shown you boys how to fly fish we expect smoked trout for dinner.” S’bu glanced at him and wasn’t so sure about this new style of fishing.

“Are we allowed to spearfish them, Granddad?”

“What! You will be hung by the ankles from the tallest tree in market square until you see sense should you ever dare do such a thing and the locals find out.” S’bu saw he was serious and nodded. There didn’t seem like any easy way around this.

They turned into a gate with the “Snow Hill” signboard.

“Well here we are!” Granddad parked behind the homestead and Gran pulled up beside them half a minute later.

“It’s a long way to travel in that little Land Rover, and without windows, Devin,” she said as she climbed out stiffly and held her back, stretching.

“It is, but at least we won’t have to do that too often.”

The farmer and his mother came out to greet them.

“Darryl and S’bu, this is Brett and Yvonne,” Granddad introduced the boys and they all shook hands. Brett was in his early twenties; Yvonne was a tall slim attractive woman with blonde hair.

“Pleased to meet you, maam – sir.” S’bu and Darryl lifted their caps.

“Likewise. Please call us Brett and Yvonne. Come in and have a cup of tea. I prepared a cold lunch as I wasn’t sure when exactly you would arrive, Sheila.”

“That was very kind of you, Yvonne, but I have brought all our food. Would you join us tonight for dinner?”

Brett was interested in the vehicles and they looked them over while the women talked.

“Hey, man! These are so hard to come by and you each have one! Please sell me one?” he looked at them seriously but the boys shook their heads.

“No deal, Brett. They both have great sentimental value.”

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“Well it was worth a try, but I can see why you won’t part with them, even if there wasn’t any sentimental value,” he said disappointedly as he turned towards the house.

“First come, first served, brau,” S’bu whispered to Darryl and shrugged his shoulders.

They walked to the front of the house and stood on the veranda where a tea table had been set out.

The view out across the valley stretched away from the house, past a smaller dam to their right, to the distant mountains, with mountains all around. Everything was green, with far off cattle grazing.

Across the road, the small lake nestled at the foothills of the mountain they called the Mquaqua. The mountain was long and big and impressive. It was beautiful. Up on the side of it in the distance were two grey shapes.

“Are those buck, Granddad,” Darryl pointed.

“I can’t say for sure without binoculars, but they look like common reedbuck.”

“That they are,” Brett told them and went to fetch his binoculars so they could better study the countryside.

Darryl passed the binoculars to S’bu when he had glassed the area.

“They are two common reedbuck ewes, S’bu, and the ram is lying in the grass keeping watch up to their left – look carefully, because just his horns are showing above the grass.

S’bu found him and focussed the instrument. The ram was lying down with his head held low to disguise himself – watching the area for danger while his ewes grazed.

“He has a big set of horns, Darryl, probably a trophy.”

“Let me see,” Brett took the binoculars and looked at the ram, “Yes that’s him. He lives there with his two ewes. They both had lambs but I don’t see them. They will be lying down in the grass, but we can drive up and take a look after lunch.”

Brett saw their eagerness to get going.

“Devin told me the two of you had ants in your pants and would want to try your Land Rovers out in the mountains.

Yvonne packed your lunch so you could be on your way, and I’ll show you around, so let’s get cracking. We’ll take one vehicle to

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check out this side of the farm and you guys can change over on the way back, so we can do the other side.”

“Sounds like a bargain. Would you like to go first, S’bu?”

“Why not,” S’bu grinned in anticipation at driving his vehicle in the mountains.

The boys unpacked the suitcases from the Land Rovers and put them in the house alongside the main one, for Gran and Granndad. Theirs went into a cottage behind the houses where they would be spending the night. Then they went to find the cook and their lunch.

They quickly untied the canopy, removed the doors and laid the windscreen flat.

“Now this is real safari stuff, brau,” S’bu’s enthusiasm was hard to contain and pretty contagious. Darryl stood in the back as Brett showed S’bu where to go, through the stream flowing gently across the road. S’bu stopped before it and put the vehicle into four wheel drive.

“And now?” Brett asked.

“One can never be too careful, Brett.”

“Or do you just want to try it out?”

“That’s the one,” S’bu laughed embarrassedly at being caught out so easily. The Land Rover moved slowly through one hundred millimetres of water that didn’t even come up to the rims – in four wheel drive. S’bu stopped on the other side and put it back into two wheel drive. He saw Brett grinning at him.

“If you only know how much better I feel now.” They all laughed and startled a bushbuck ewe that had been lying in the long grass beside the stream. The ewe ran a short way, stopped and looked back at them.

“Drive off, she has left her lamb in the long grass and just wants to lead us away from it.”

They drove on up the hill and Darryl jumped off to open the concertina gate. He closed it after S’bu drove through, so the cattle couldn’t get out of the paddock. They stood watching the Land Rover and some ran up and milled around, sniffing the vehicle.

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