Nights of fear and Michael gets stuck in the bush
My dear Jeremy,
While in Abercorn your Father did a lot of touring visiting remote schools in the Bush. I was left at home with Jill, Celia and Timothy and a big dog called Jasper. It was very eerie at night as I lay in bed hearing the talking drums away in the distance. What messages were they sending, I wondered. Once I got into trouble when Jasper tried to attack and African man, but what was he doing looking in my bedroom window. I went to bed with the pepper pot beside me, an insect spray strategically placed and various other weapons on hand round the house.
Michael was away on tour when his driver arrived to collect the canoe which he needed to cross a flooded plain. I refused to give it to him. ‘But Donna the Bwana wants the canoe’, he said firmly and would not take my ‘No’ for an answer and stood his ground so finally I had to give it to him. Imagine the visions I had of Michael being swept by flooding water down into the river and I would never see him again. To my great relief he returned safely.
There was, however, the time he did not return safely. He had left that morning to inspect a school and promised he would be home in time to help me plant a row of cannas in the front garden. He did not return as promised and I was really very cross and said unkind things under my breath. He was not home for dinner and it was getting dark. I fed, bathed and put the children to bed. By this time I thought he had had an accident or the landrover had broken down. I had no telephone so I could not contact anyone.
Still he did not come. I stood at the window watching for the lights of the landrover then, in my head I heard him say: " I am all right – go to bed" , which I did as I suddenly felt quite calm.
At that time I ran a little nursery school. I found that most of the little children ended up each morning in my garden so that seemed a good idea. When the Agricultural Officer brought his little girl in the morning I told him Michael had gone out and not come back and how worried I was. He went back to the office, found out from the clerks where Michael had gone and instituted a search. Imagine how I felt when the clerk and one of the orderlies came walking down the road with the gloomiest of faces to commiserate with me. Had they heard anything?
I sent out food and drink with the search party and it was a very dishevelled and weary Michael who finally came home. He was warmly welcomed and I did not tell him all the nasty things I had said about him. He was furious with his driver and orderly – they had bought bags of mealies, corn, from the village they visited and put them in the back of the landrover but did not tell the Bwana. As Michael was running late and had promised to give me a hand in the garden he decided to take a short cut through a river crossing. That was a mistake. The landrover just sank down into the mud with its heavy load and he was well and truly stuck. Even though they unloaded the bags he still could not get the landrover to move despite its four wheel drive.
Michael then walked to the road hoping to flag down a passing motorist. He was too late and saw a vehicle disappearing into the dusty distance and no more vehicles passed that way again. So he walked back to the river and that was when he sent me the mental telepathy message which I received. This has never happened to me again.
It was school holidays so Dad took us all to visit a school on the banks of Lake Tanganyika. It was very hot and humid down there. We picnicked and swam in the lake to cool off but when we got out we were just as hot and sticky. The African children came running up and touched Timothy to see if the white came off his skin. I don’t think they had ever seen any white children before.
It was from Abercorn we had to send Christopher to school at Kingswood in Grahamstown. That was heart wrenching for me and I shed many a hot tear. His uniform was posted to him by Granny Sadler so he went off looking very smart. He flew to Johannesburg and Joyce put him on the train for Grahamstown.
In those days one knitted school jerseys. I made him two from the grey wool in the local shop but to his embarrassment they were not the right colour, it had to be regulation grey of which I was totally ignorant. Granny had to go to Birches to buy him two regulation grey jerseys.
So began Christopher’s adventures.
Love you,
Mum