The Burning Shore (75 page)

Read The Burning Shore Online

Authors: Wilbur Smith

Tags: #Adventure, #Mystery, #Historical, #Thriller, #Military

Well, madam, there is your report. He laid a thick folder on the table before her.

She untied the tapes and opened it. There, in his neat pedantic handwriting, was page after page of figures and numbers, and words she had never seen before. She turned the pages slowly while Twenty-man-Jones watched her sadly. Once he shook his head and looked as though he were about to speak, instead he pulled the handkerchief from his top pocket and noisily blew his nose.

Finally, she looked up at him.

I’m sorry, she whispered, I don’t understand any of this. Explain it to me.

I’ll be brief, madam. I sank forty-six prospect holes, each to a depth of fifty feet and sampled at six-foot intervals.

Yes, she nodded. But what did you find? I found that there is a layer of yellow ground overlaying the entire property to an average depth of thirty-five feet. Centaine felt dizzy and sick. Yellow ground sounded so ominous. Twenty-man-Jones broke off and blew his nose again. It was quite obvious to Centaine that he did not want to say the final words that would kill for ever her hopes and dreams.

Please, go on, she whispered.

Below this stratum we ran into- his voice fell and he looked as though his heart was aching for her -we ran into blue ground.

Centaine lifted her hand to her mouth, and she thought she would faint.

Blue ground. It sounded even worse than yellow ground, and the child heaved and struggled in her, and despair came down upon her like a flow of poisonous lava.

All for nothing, she thought, and she was no longer listening as he went on.

It’s the classic pipe formation, of course, the decomposing breccia composite above with the harder impermeable slaty-blue formation below. So there were no diamonds after all, she said softly, and he stared at her.

Diamonds! Well, madam, I’ve worked out an average value of twenty-six carats to a hundred loads. I still don’t understand, she shook her head stupidly. What does that mean, sir? What is a hundred loads? A hundred loads is approximately eighty tons of earth. And what does twenty-six carats mean? Madam, the Jagersfontein assays at eleven carats to a hundred loads, even the Wesselton goes only sixteen carats to a hundred loads, and they are the two richest diamond mines in the world. This property is almost twice as rich. So there are diamonds after all? She stared at him, and from the side pocket of his alpaca jacket he took a bundle of small buff-coloured envelopes, tied together with string, and placed these on top of the report folder.

Please do not mix them up, Mrs Courtney, the stones from each prospect hole are in separate envelopes, all carefully notated. With fingers that felt numb and swollen, she untied the string and fumbled open the top envelope. She poured the contents into her hand. Some of the stones were chips not much bigger than sugar grains, one was the size of a large ripe pea.

Diamonds? she asked again, wanting his assurance.

Yes, madam, and of peculiarly good quality on the average. She stared dumbly at the little pile of stones in her hand, they looked murky and small and mundane.

You will excuse the liberty, madam, but may I ask you a question? You might of course, choose not to answer. She nodded.

Are you a member of a syndicate, do you have partners in this venture? She shook her head.

You mean, you are the sole holder and owner of this property? That you discovered this pipe and pegged the claims entirely on your own account? She nodded again.

Then, he shook his head mournfully, at this moment, Mrs Courtney, you are probably one of the wealthiest women in the world.

Twenty-man-Jones remained at Lion Tree Camp for three days longer.

He went over every line of his report with her, explaining any item of which her understanding was unclear. He opened each of the packages of sample stones, and picked out unusual or typical diamonds with a pair of jeweller’s forceps, laid them on the palm of her hand and pointed out their special features to her.

Some of these are so small, do they have any worth at all? She rolled the sugar-grain chips under the forefinger.

Those industrials, madam, will be your bread and butter. They will pay your costs. And the big jewellery grade stones, like this one, will be the jam on top of it all. Strawberry jam, madam, of the very best quality Crosse and Blackwell, if you like! It was as close as she ever heard him come to a witticism, and even then his expression was morose.

The last section of his report was twenty-one pages of recommendations for the exploitation of the property.

You are extremely fortunate, madam, to be able to open this pipe systematically. All the other great diamond pipes, from Kimberly to Wesselton, were pegged by hundreds of individual miners, and each started working independently of his neighbour’s efforts. The results was utter chaos. He shook his head and tugged at his fluffy white sideburns mournfully. Hundreds of plots each thirty feet square all going down at different speeds, with roadway in between the a tangle of wires and pulleys and buckets connecting each to the lip. Chaos, madam, pandemonium! Costs inflated, men killed in cave-ins, thousands of extra labourers required, madness! He looked up at her. While you, madam, have here the opportunity of constructing a model working, and this report, he laid his hand upon it, explains exactly how you should do it. I have even surveyed the ground and put in numbered pegs to guide you. I have calculated your volumes of earth at each stage. I have laid out your first incline shaft for you, and explained how you should plan each level of excavation. Centaine broke in on his dissertation. Dr TwentymanJones, you keep saying “you”. You don’t expect me personally to perform all these complicated tasks, do you? Good Lord, no! You will have to have an engineer, a good man, with experience of earth-moving. Ultimately I envisage that you will be employing several engineers and many hundreds, possibly thousands, of men at thehe hesitated -do you have a name for the property? The Courtney Minc, perhaps? She shook her head. The H’ani Mine, she told him.

Unusual. What does it mean? It is the name of the San woman who guided me here.”Very appropriate, then. Now, as I was saying, you will require a good engineer to put in hand the initial developments that I have outlined. Do you have a man in mind, sir? Difficult, he mused.

Most of the best men are employed permanently by De Beers, and of the others the one that comes to mind first was recently crippled in a blasting accident. He thought for a moment. Now then, I have heard good reports of a young Afrikaner chappie.

Never worked with him myself, damn me, what was his name again. Oh, yes, that’s it. De La Rey! No! Centaine exclaimed violently. I’m sorry, madam. Do you know him? Yes. I don’t want him.”As you wish, I’ll try and think of someone else. In her cot that night Centaine tossed from side to side, trying to get comfortable, trying to adjust the suffocating weight of the child so that she could sleep, and she thought of Twenty-man-Jones’s suggestion and sat up slowly.

Why not? she said aloud in the darkness. He must return here, anyway. A stranger coming here at this time might see more than I would wish him to. And she cupped both hands under her belly. It need only be for the initial development stages. I’ll write Abraham Abrahams right now and tell him to send Lothaff And she lit the lantern and waddled across the tent to her camp table.

In the morning Twentiman Jones was ready to leave, All his gear was packed into the back of the lorry and his black labourers were sitting on top of it.

Centaine handed him back the report.

Would you be so good as to give your report to my lawyer in Windhoek, sir, together with this letter? Of course, madam.

He will want to go over the report with you, and then, as I have instructed Mr Abrahams to solicit a loan from my bank, the bank-manager will probably want to speak to you as well, to have your views on the value of the property. I expected that, he nodded. You can rest assured that I will inform him of the enormous value of your discovery.”Thank you. In this letter I have instructed Mr Abrahams to pay you from the loan an amount equal again to your original fee. That is unnecessary, madam, but very generous. You see, Dr Twenty-man-jones, at some future date I might wish to retain your services as a permanent consultant to the H’ani Mine, I wish you to have a good opinion of me. It does not require a fee for that, Mrs Courtney, I find you an extraordinarily plucky, intelligent and comely young lady. I would consider it an honour to work with you again. Then I will ask one final service of you. Anything, madam.

Please do not repeat anything of my personal circumstances that you may have observed here. His eyes dropped for just a fleeting instant to the front of her dress.

Discretion, madam, is not the least prerequisite of my profession. Besides which I would never do anything to injure a friend.

A good friend, Dr Twenty-man-Jones, she assured him, as she held out her right hand.

A very good friend, Mrs Courtney, he agreed, as he took her hand, and for one incredible moment she thought he was going to smile. But he controlled himself and turned from her to the waiting lorry.

Once again the journey and the return from Lion Tree Camp to Windhoek took her truck-driver eight days, and Centaine wondered more than once during that time if she had not left it too late. The child in her was big and urgent. Impatiently it demanded release, so that when she at last heard the distant beat of the motors of the returning vehicles, her relief was intense.

From the canvas flap she watched the arrival. In the lead truck rode Lothar De La Rey, and though she tried to ignore it, she felt her pulse quicken when she watched him climb down from the cab, tall and elegant and graceful, despite the dust and heat of the long journey.

The next traveller whom Lothar handed down from the truck took Centaine by surprise. A nun in habit and hood of the Benedictine order.

I told him a nurse, I didn’t expect a sister, she muttered angrily. In the back of the truck were two young Nama girls. Golden-brown skins and pretty little cheerful pug faces, each of them with an infant on her hip, their breasts heavy with milk beneath the cotton print trade dresses they wore, so much alike that they must be sisters.

The wet nurses, she realized, and now that they were here, these brown strangers of another race that would give suck to her child, Centaine felt the first truly bitter pang of regret of what she must do.

Lothar came to her tent, his bearing still aloof and reserved, and handed her a packet of letters before introducing the nun to her.

This is Sister Amehana of the hospital of St Anne, he told her. She is of my mother’s family, a cousin. She is a trained midwife, but she speaks only German. We can rely upon her completely. A gaunt, white-faced woman, Sister Arneliana had the smell of dried roses petals about her, and her eyes were frosty and disapproving as she looked at Centaine and said something to Lothar.

She wishes to examine you, Lothar translated. I will return later to discuss the work you have for my company. She does not like me. Centaine returned Sister Ameliana’s flat hostile stare, and Lothar hesitated before he explained.

She does not approve of our bargain. Her whole life is devoted to the birth and care of babies. She does not understand how you can give up your own infant, as is apparent, neither do U Tell her that I do not like her either, but she is to perform the task- she came for and not place herself in judgment over me. Centaine- he protested.

Tell her, Centaine insisted, and they spoke rapidly in German before he turned back to Centaine.

She says that you understand each other. That is good.

She has come only for the child. As to judgment, she leaves that to our Heavenly Father. Tell her to get on with the examination then. After Sister Arneliana had finished and left, Centaine read her letters. There was one from Garry Courtney, full of all of Theuniskraalls news, and at the end he had affixed Shasa’s inky thumbprint below his own signature with the notation: Michel Courtney, his mark. Anna’s voluminous wad of notepaper, covered with her large ill-formed scrawl though difficult to decipher, left Centaine with a warm after-glow of pleasure.

Then she broke the seal of Abraham Abrahams’s letter, the last in the package.

My dear Mrs Courtney, Your letter and Dr Twenty-man-Jones’s intelligence have thrown me into a fever of incredulous amazement. I cannot find the words to express my admiration for your achievement nor the pleasure I feel for your great good fortune. However, I will not weary you with my felicitations and will come directly to business.

Dr Twenty-man-Jones and I have conducted extensive negotiations with the directors and managers of the Standard Bank, who have studied and evaluated the samples and report. The bank has agreed to make available to you a loan at 5% percent interest per annum in the sum of $100,000. You may draw upon this as you require it, and it is further agreed that this is merely a preliminary figure, and that additional amounts will be forthcoming to you in future. The loan is secured by the claim deeds of the H’ani Mine.

Dr Twenty-man-jones has also met with Mr Lothar De La Rey, and set out for him in detail the requirements of phase one of the development of the property.

Mr De La Rey has tendered a contract price of 5,000 pounds for the commission of this work. By Virtue of your authority, I have accepted this tender and delivered to him the initial payment of 11,000 f or which I hold his receipt Centaine skimmed through the rest of the letter, smiling at Abrahams’s comment: I have sent you the stores you required. However, I am much intrigued by the two dozen mosquito nets you have asked for. Perhaps one day you will explain what you intend to do with these, and thereby allay my burning curiosity.

Then she set the letter aside for later rereading and sent for Lothar.

He came immediately. Sister Ameliana assures me that all is well, that the pregnancy proceeds naturally without any complication, and that it is very nearly over. Centaine nodded and indicated the camp chair facing her.

Other books

Dancing on Her Grave by Diana Montane
Elizabeth Thornton by Whisper His Name
Two Soldiers by Anders Roslund
No Going Back by Matt Hilton
Behind Palace Doors by Jules Bennett
Catalyst by Shelly Crane