Jeb's Legacy

Jeb's Legacy

Also By Andrew Kepitis Andrews

Mostly Behind The 8 Ball (2014)

Take It Easy (2015)

Dollars From Heaven (2015)

Easy Does It (2015)

The Seeing Eye Crocodile (2016)

Jeb's Legacy

© Copyright 2017 Andrew Kepitis-Andrews

Smashwords Edition

This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced by any process, stored in a retrieval system, or transmit-ted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the copyright holder. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

Kepitis-Andrews, Andrew, 1940 –

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Cover Design by Jill Patten

And adventure story starting during the Boer War and concluding in Australia with desk-drawers full of uncut diamonds and the lives of the people that brought them there.

FICTION

Dedication

I am dedicating this book to my late wife, Jill, who has been my driving force for more than 50 years of our life. Sadly, she did not live to see its completion.

Also to Ion Newcombe, without whose publishing skills and help this publication would not have been possible—and Judith Tobin, whose editing and red markings masked and corrected my clumsiness and poor typing skills.

Table Of Contents

1. THE BUSHVELD NEAR BULTFONTEIN

2. DURBAN

3. WAITING FOR A BERTH

4. THE PASSAGE HOME

5. WAITING FOR A WAR TO END

6. STILL WAITING

7. THE WEDDING & OTHER EVENTS

8. THE END OF A WAR

9. DIAMOND RECOVERY 1ST. ATTEMPT

10. PLANNING THE RETURN

11. JEB’S SARCOPHAGUS

12. MOZAMBIQUE CHANNEL

13. MADAGASCAR

14. THE LONG HAUL

15. JEB’S BOUNTY

16. JOSTLING FOR POSITION

17. TO THE VICTOR, THE SPOILS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

1. THE BUSHVELD NEAR BULTFONTEIN

In South Africa the Boer War had just broken out. Huge gold and other mineral deposits had been discovered in the Afrikaans territories and the British Government was determined to take possession of these resources, by stealth and force, ignoring the sovereignty of the Afrikaans nationals.

The tiny Afrikaans states joined forces to face the might of the then, British Empire in a desperate attempt to hold onto their lands and the mineral wealth the land possessed.

Despite the hostilities, many international corporations ignored the dangers and dispatched prospectors to search for minerals, deeming the prospectors expendable as long as their reports and maps were accurate.

The late October heat of the day was giving way to a light evening breeze as two of the three prospectors tried their best to give comfort to their mate. They had just finished making camp in a rocky outcrop in the bushveld when Jeb, the third of their party, let out a startled yell as he was returning to camp, carrying water from a small oxbow lake.

Son of a bitch, he swore, the bastard got me, son of a bitch!

Sandy and Sam heard Jeb’s cry and instinctively rushed towards him. They saw him slump to the ground, nursing the calf of his leg and swearing in dismay.

Son of a bitch, I don’t believe this. How did this happen? Shit, shit, son of a bitch ...!

What happened Jeb? Tony asked anxiously, what’s wrong?

A snake just fanged me, that’s what’s wrong!

A snake? You sure of that?

Of course I’m sure. I must have stood on its tail or something and the next thing I know, the bastard sinks its fangs in my leg.

Any idea what sort it was?

I’m not exactly sure but I think it was a mamba.

Shit! Sandy exclaimed, a bloody mamba, are you sure?

Pretty sure.

A mamba, shit, that’s bloody serious. Sam, can you rush and get some rope or heavy string or something from camp and bring your razor.

Sam took off in a hurry and Sandy used what was left of the water in the buckets to clean round the bite mark.

I keep telling you not to wear shorts but you won’t listen, Sandy admonished Jeb, if you had longs on he’d have just ripped your trouser leg a bit.

I don’t think so Sandy, the way this bushwacker hit, he’d have gone through a steel can.

Sam returned with a piece of rope and his cut-throat razor.

Just above the knee, I reckon, that’s where we should apply the tourniquet.

Sam twisted the rope as far as he could and Sandy made a cross cut mark deep in the calf and began sucking out what blood he could, spitting it out on the ground.

We’ll try and get you back to the camp now Jeb. Now put both arms round our necks and we’ll get you up and if you can, use your good leg as a bit of a prop, we’ll see how we go.

It was a slow process but fortunately the camp-site was close by. They placed Jeb on his camp-bed and made him as comfortable as they could. From his first aid kit Sandy fished out a bottle on antiseptic and applied that to Jeb’s wound. After a short while Jeb started having short spasms and then drifted out of consciousness.

We’ve got to get him to a doctor, Sam said quietly.

I agree but untill morning there is nothing we can do and even then, where do we take him too? Kimberly’s too far. Bultfontein is about the nearest for a doctor but how do we get him there? He sure as hell won’t be in any condition to ride a horse.

We’ll have to strap him down on a horse. There’s no other way.

Anyway, there’s nothing more we can do till morning. Best get a fire going, have some grub and turn in. How’s he doing now?

Sandy went over to check.

He’s either sleeping or unconscious but he’s breathing OK.

Finishing a sparse meal of canned vegetables and biltong, they checked on Jeb again and found him much the same. Sam and Sandy sat down by the fire and watched the flames as Sam produced a flask of whisky and both of them took a swig.

If this isn’t one for the books, I don’t know what is, Sam observed, in Africa you could expect to be mauled by a lion or trampled by an elephant but bitten by a snake? In The States, if a rattler got him, I wouldn’t be surprised, but here! And Jeb of all people. He’s been here prospecting for years. You’d think he could spot a snake a hundred yards off.

No point going over it again, Jeb’s bitten and that’s that. Let’s just hope he pulls through, Sandy replied and threw more timber onto the fire.

The three of them first met a few year ago when they were employed by a large American Corporation to prospect for minerals. Both Sam and Sandy were metallurgists by profession and Jeb was an experienced prospector with a good knowledge of South African topography. Their combined task was to seek out and identify mineral traces and send back reports of their findings together with maps, to the Corporations branch office in London.

Sam or Samuel Rivero originally came from Los Angeles and had been employed by the Corporation for a few years already before being sent out to do some field work. He was a young man of some twenty eight years, tall and stringy, clearly showing his Latino ancestry.

Sandy or Ryan Cook, his birth name, was born near Brisbane, Australia and got the job with the Corporation mainly through his experience in metallurgic research in outback Australia. He was nicknamed Sandy early in his youth due to his pepper and salt hair colour and jovial, devil- may- care personality.

Jeb Rockford, also an American but a few years older than either Sam or Sandy, a seasoned prospector, was their guide and co-prospector. The trio worked well together and so far in their relationship, an altercation of any sort had failed to materialise. Although their mission was to prospect for metals, any metals, the thought of finding a gold seam was foremost in their minds. The Johannesburg goldfields had only recently opened up and despite official proclamations it was common knowledge that this was the main, if not only reason, a state of war existed between Britain and the fledgling Afrikaans nation.

It stood to reason that if there was gold in Johannesburg, there could be large deposits elsewhere. Thus for the trio, gold became the primary objective and they very nearly achieved it.

Almost due west of Bultfontein, they were prospecting in an open, rocky area when Sandy, examining his sample, found trace elements which were unmistakeably showing the presence of gold. Excitedly all three now concentrated on the area Sandy had discovered and started digging in earnest, looking for more evidence. Excavating round a large boulder they found that by using their combined weight and strength, they could dislodge the rock and lay it on its side. Removing the soil and rubble from the crater they discovered large and small pebbles which when washed looked like, slightly off white and translucent pieces of glass.

What the hell do you suppose we have here? Sam asked in some surprise.

I’ll tell you what you have there, Jeb was quick to point out, they’re diamonds, that’s what you have there. Diamonds old buddy.

Holy sheeet! was Sam exclaimed in amazement, are you sure?

Jeb picked up a couple of stones and examined them.

Yep, they’re diamonds all right, no mistake about it.

Let’s have a look, Sandy broke in, I’ve never seen a rough diamond before.

Jeb handed Sandy the stones, who then studied them with great interest.

How do you know they’re not just some sort of crystals?

I’ve been round Africa long enough to know an uncut diamond from a crystal. Look at this one, you can see the grain clearly. This will cut into three stones round about two to five carats each.

Sandy peered at the stone again but could not see what Jeb was talking about. He handed back the stone.

Yeah, if you say so Jeb.

Trust me, I do say so.

The following three days were spent in furious digging. When the crater of the boulder yielded no more stones, other boulders were overturned but these yielded nothing.

This must be just one pocket, Jeb reasoned, there are probably other pockets about but it could take us months before we find another one but just from what we have here is enough for a king’s ransom, no make it two. Oh what the heck, make it at least three to four.

Really, Sandy broke in, what do you think they are worth?

Until they are cut, it’s hard to say but look at it this way, Jeb answered by picking out one stone, the size of a human eyeball, this one, when it is cut and proves to be flawless, would set the three of us up for life and look at the pile, there’s quite a few that size in there, some even bigger.

Wow! Sam exclaimed, the Corporation will be pleased as punch when they get these.

The Corporation! Are you insane? What’s this got to do with the Corporation?

They contracted us to prospect for them so legally, what we find belongs to them.

The hell it does, Jeb sputtered, the Corporation contracted me look for metals, map the areas and advise them. My contract says nothing about gemstones or ancient ruins or even if we dig up carrots.

He’s got a point there Sam. Come to think of it, my contract says nothing about gemstones either and I bet, neither does yours, Sandy suggested, and if you take another look at your contract you’ll see that it says under, conditions of employment, ‘that in the event of armed conflict arising in the work area or tribal hostilities, the Corporation is no longer bound by the contract.’ Now if you take a look around you, there is this Boer War going on round us. As a matter of fact, I’d say we are right in the middle of it.

I guess you’re right. I just don’t want to be doing the wrong thing.

The wrong thing! Jeb exploded, that’s rich. Suppose if we did hand this cache over to the Corporation, they’d do the right thing. The right thing by them would be to give the three of us a slap up dinner and one of these new photograph things showing us shaking the hand of the president and then our next assignment, to see what else we can find for them. They pick up the cream and we go back to being their sniffer dogs.

Jeb’s right Sam, the war’s been going on for nearly a year but we’ve had no communication from the corporation saying, ‘there’s war on, get your arses out of there before you get hurt,’ instead the last cable we received from them urged us to keep looking. Just like the British, when gold was first discovered in the Transvaal, they wanted the gold and told the Boers to bugger off, they were going to have the gold if they have to take it by force.

OK, OK, enough already. You’ve convinced me. I suppose the next question is, is where do we go from here and how do we go about it?

That’s easy, we get the hell out of here and head for the coast but not before we map the location. I agree with Jeb, where there’s one pocket of diamonds there’s bound to be more. It might be handy to have in the future, Sandy suggested, and oh yeah, we might look for something suitable to carry the stones, I reckon there’s got to be about twenty five to thirty pounds, dead weight in all them stones, so filling our pockets is out. We have to look for a better way.

Stretched out on his camp bed, Sandy felt a hand on his shoulder.

Wake up Sandy, it was Sam shaking him, wake up, it’s Jeb.

What’s up?

He’s dead. Jeb’s dead.

What, we checked him just before turning in, he was out to it but still breathing.

He must have died soon after. I just checked him. He’s cold as a stone and stiff as a board.

Shit! Poor Jeb, so what now?

Now nothing. We can’t take him with us so we had better bury him.

Yeah, we’d better do that. This ground’s so bloody hard, it’ll take us all day to dig a hole for him.

I thought of that so why don’t we bury him Indian style?

What’s Indian style?

There’s plenty of loose rocks about here so why don’t we pile rocks about him and on top of him?

That’s a good idea. Do you want to start now or have some breakfast first?

I reckon we do it now and eat after. What do you think?

OK, let’s get on with it, Sandy reached for his clothes.

"Where do you suppose we should start the grave? Sam asked.

Look around you, there’s no shortage of space. What about between those two boulders next to the camp?

Good a place as any, actually better. The boulders should protect the sides from hyenas trying to prise the rocks away once they get the scent and if we put a couple of really heavy rocks at either end, that should stop the critters from getting an unearned dinner.

Best we get started before it gets too hot, Sandy proposed and wandered off in search of suitable rocks.

Gathering rocks took longer than at first they anticipated, not because there was a shortage of rocks but because every time they loosened a sizeable stone, they dug round the bottom of the crater in the hope of finding more diamonds. Luck did not smile on them that morning.

By about eleven in the morning they figured they had enough rocks for the burial mound and Sam called for a break and some coffee.

You know, Sandy said in between sips from his enamel mug, we should dig a shallow trench, just deep enough to take Jeb’s body and then start wedging rocks around him and then on top of him, that way it makes it harder still for any animal to get to the body.

Good idea, let’s do that.

And another thing, Sandy continued, we’d better let his family know what happened to him. Do you know much about them or where to contact them?

Now that you mention it, no I don’t. I know he wasn’t married and his parents live somewhere in Waco in Texas but that’s about it.

Hmm, well there’s bugger all we can do about it now anyway. We’ll have to wait till we get to the first telegraph office and wire the Corporation. They’ll have all his details and they can be the bearers of the bad news.

Both men fell silent and sipped their coffee. Then Sam broke the silence.

I suppose we’d better go through his things and remove anything that could be memorable or valuable and I should probably hang on to it as you are not likely to be visiting The States in the near future, are you?

You go ahead and do what has to be done and then we’d better bury him, well sort of.

So that bare rock would not rest on Jeb’s bare face and other parts, Sam and Sandy decided to wrap Jeb’s body in two of his blankets and tie both ends and the middle with rope. They carried him out and lowered him gently in the dug out trench. Rocks were then wedged around the body and piled up to cover the top. This done, both men stood side by side at the rocky mound and removed their hats.

I suppose at a time like this one should say a prayer or something, Sam suggested.

You’re right. Do you know any prayers?

No, not really. Do you?

No, Sandy replied, not really but how about, ‘rest in peace and may God have mercy on his soul?

That should do it.

What about we make a cross or something and stick it in the rocks?

Good idea, Tony agreed.

They looked around and found two suitable sticks. These were tied together in the shape of a cross and planted among the rocks at the head of the grave with a couple of more rocks to give the cross some permanence. Both men then stood at the foot of the grave, hat in hand and said in unison,

Rest in peace Jeb and may God have mercy on your soul.

Now that that’s done, we’d better start thinking about our next step? Tony suggested.

We covered that earlier. We head for the coast, Durban’s closest and then to hell out of Africa.

Sure but I mean about the diamonds.

We take them to Holland, find a diamond cutter and then put them on the market.

That may not be as easy as it sounds, Sam pointed out, I don’t think that between us we’ve got enough money to pay for the cutting of all those stones.

That crossed my mind as well but we can get a few cut for starters, sell them and with the cash, get some more cut or if we find a cutter we get on well with and feel we can trust him, we can offer him a percentage.

Yes, that sounds logical enough but what about Jeb?

What about Jeb? Sandy asked surprised.

He was with us when we found the diamonds.

Oh! I see what you mean. Naturally his family get one third of whatever we make out of it but only his direct family, father, mother, sisters, brothers but no distant cousins three times removed, Just the family.

I think we might be just a tad too generous, Sam protested.

In what way?

Well, none of his family were in any way involved when we found the diamonds, besides, to us they are total strangers, we may not even like them, or they us.

So what are you suggesting? We cut them out altogether?

No, that’s not it. Look at it this way. We’ve still have to get the stones out of here, get them cut, pay for that and then find some buyers. All of this is going to take time and money, so I reckon one third is overgenerous, especially when you think we’re handing this over to people we’ve never met. Plus, we don’t know, maybe Jeb hated his parents and didn’t get along with them. He certainly didn’t talk much about them.

No he didn’t, Sandy agreed, but I don’t think so.

Maybe not but have you ever seen Jeb writing a letter home?

Come to think of it, no I haven’t, so what are you suggesting? Leave them out altogether?

No, not at all. I think maybe one tenth of what we make is pretty generous and a windfall for them. Besides, if Jeb was right about their value then if they got only 5%, they still couldn’t spend it in what’s left of their lifetime.

That sounds fair to me, Sandy agreed, let’s make it a ... a sort of a pact, between you and me.

Sandy, I wouldn’t have it any other way. In any case, if Jeb was only half right about the value of the stones, our great, great grandchildren will still have plenty left to splash around.

That settled they started making plans for their departure. Durban seemed the best choice as it was the closest, had a port and as far as they knew, was not directly affected by the war. The diamonds themselves were a bit of a problem. There were too many of them and their combined weight was in the region of twenty five to thirty pounds and to carry this lot in one container seemed a little too risky. Then Sandy got and idea. Jeb’s prospecting trousers were made from a fairly new material called denim, very tough and hard wearing. Cutting off one leg and tying the end with a stout strap made a very strong pouch when filled and the other end tied off as well. Fortunately, Jeb had two such pairs but as he was never going to use them again they were now turned into four, very durable pouches which, with both ends tied securely with string, looked very much like four large sausages.

It was now early afternoon so there was no point in staring their journey to Durban now. First thing in the morning was decided on. Sam volunteered to hunt up some more firewood for the evening and handle the cooking and Sandy busied himself by feeding and watering the horses after which he took his rifle and saddling one horse, rode out to see if he could shoot a small buck for the pot. It was a little early for hunting as any game normally would not move much until later when they sought water for their evening drink. Still, one could always stumble on a small herd. The terrain was very scrubby, a little hilly but not mountainous. The best one could do was to find a hill and look round or pick up a game trail.

Sandy chose a hill and riding up it he hoped to see some movement, indicating game. At first he saw nothing but then he did see movement. Quite a long way off he spotted a group of men on horseback. Taking out his telescope, he trained it on the group and counted some twenty five to thirty men, all of them armed though not in any type of uniform. Instinctively he knew that this was no hunting party but a Boer Commando out on some patrol or something. He quickly cancelled his hunting plans and headed back to camp.

Approaching the camp he saw smoke rising up, in between the rocks. Obviously Sam had started the fire early to be ready for an early dinner and an early night, refreshed to start out first thing in the morning. Sandy spurred his horse on to get back to camp as fast as he could.

There’s a Boer Commando out there and they look like they’re headed this way, Sandy shouted as he rode into camp and dismounted.

So what? Sam retorted, we’re not at war with them so why should they bother us?

You might think so but they may have other ideas. Quick put out that fire ... no don’t, they’ve probably already seen the smoke and if we put it out now they’ll become suspicious. If they pay us a visit, act like just what we are, a couple of prospectors who’ve just buried a mate.

Look, I’m an American and America is not at war with them, Sam protested, this war’s got nothing to do with me.

You might be but I’m not. I’m from Australia and to them, that makes me British.

Shit, you’re right but still, you’re a civilian.

I hope they think so too. Sandy agreed but then a thought suddenly entered his head, shit, the diamonds! If they decide to search the camp, we’re in big trouble.

They can’t do that, Sam protested, not without a warrant.

They have one or at least twenty five of them. It’s called a 303 Lee Enfield rifle.

So what! They wouldn’t dare shoot an American citizen.

Not bloody much, they wouldn’t. You think they’d write in their report, ‘shot an American prospector because he was giving us cheek,’ I don’t think they’d even bother to write a report, just burn your papers and let the hyenas take care of the rest.

You don’t paint a very good picture, do you? Sam commented, somewhat crushed.

Never mind that now, we’ve got to hide the diamonds.

OK, where do you suggest?

I don’t know, somewhere where they’re not going to look.

Yeah but where is that?

Sandy then received a brilliant idea.

In the grave with Jeb, that’s where. We’ll pack them under the stones with Jeb. The Boars are a religious lot, so I’m told. They’ll not want to desecrate a grave.

That’s a great idea, Sam agreed, later we can say honestly that Jeb died a rich man.

Both men worked furiously in removing the rocks they had so painstakingly compiled earlier and laid out the diamond ‘sausage’ packs under Jeb’s lifeless legs at the same time looking out for visiting riders.

They finished in good time and returned to the camp fire, brewing up some coffee so that they looked relaxed should visitors decide to come.

A half hour went by and both Sandy and Sam thought the commando had passed them by but they were wrong. They heard the horses first and through the dust, saw the commando encircling their camp. Then three riders broke the rank and rode into the camp. The middle rider urged his horse a few paces forward and announced,

I am captain Gert Malan of the twelfth Bloemfontein Commando. You men are on Afrikaans territory, who are you and what is your business here?

Sam took the lead and explained that they were prospectors of an American company and were about to pack up and move to a different location.

I see, the captain nodded, and you have documents to back this up?

We do.

Good, we’ll see them in a minute. You say you are prospectors, have you found anything of interest here?

Not a great deal, Sam assured him, just some trace elements.

What sort of trace elements?

Copper mainly and just an early hint of gold.

Gold you say, the captain became interested, how much gold have you found?

None really, just trace elements.

What’s this, ‘trace elements’? You’ve either found gold or you haven’t. Which is it?

We’ve found elements in the soil which are consistent with gold bearing reefs. That means there could be gold here somewhere. We are metallurgists by profession, not miners. We simply analyse the soil and send back reports of our findings.

So there could be gold in this area?

Yes but we are not sure where.

I see, the captain murmured thoughtfully, and what else have you found?

Pardon, I don’t understand.

What else have you come across man? Did you find any gemstones?

Gemstones! Sam exclaimed, we’re metallurgists not lapidary prospectors.

What’s this lapid ... whatever thing?

Our work is only in recognising and analysing metals. We have nothing to do with stones or other such baubles.

I see, the captain remarked still not fully satisfied, we were observing you through binoculars before we rode in. You were busy piling up rocks. You busy building a pyramid or something? What’s that all about?

Oh that! Sam was now a little alarmed, our colleague Jeb died early this morning from snake bite so we buried him under the rocks.

Why didn’t you just dig a grave for him?

You’ve got to be kidding? The ground’s so hard we’d be still be digging so we thought we’d bury him Indian style, American Indian style that is.

I see. I suppose that works just as well. What sort of snake was it that got him?

A mamba, we think.

You think! You don’t know?

We didn’t see the snake but Jeb did and he said it was a mamba.

I see. This Jeb, does he have documents or did you bury those with him?

Oh yes, we’ve got them, they’re in the wagon. We thought we’d keep them and let his family have them.

That was thoughtful of you. Let’s see them and yours too.

Sam went to the wagon. Sandy had his in his back pocket and he handed them to the captain. As the captain was examining Sandy’s papers, Sam came back from the wagon and handed over his and Jeb’s.

Hmm, the captain snorted examining the documents, Your and your dead friend’s papers confirm you’re Americans and we have no quarrel with America but, turning to Sandy, yours say you are a Rooineck.

What! That’s bullshit. I’m from Australia, born in Brisbane. It says so right there.

That is correct but it says you are a British Subject, born in Brisbane.

That’s only because they’re the only travel documents we can get. Just wait till next year, we’ll be our own country then. We’re just like you, we hate the British. They’ve been living off our backs for donkey’s years but not after next year, Sandy was doing his best to sound convincing.

Yeah, and he’s employed by an American company, Sam did his bit to help out.

The captain pondered the situation for a moment and handing the papers back said,

That’s all in order for the moment, then turning to his off -siders, called out, Jannie, Piet, you know what to do. Search the camp and the wagons and the tent.

Just a moment, Sam interrupted, you can’t do that. We’ve done nothing wrong and the camp is technically our home, so you need a warrant.

I’ve got my warrant right here, the captain replied gently tapping his rifle in the holster by the saddle and then with his other arm he waved a signal, on which two riders from the encircling group moved in behind the captain.

Nothing much here, just the usual prospecting shit, Piet, one of the searchers, speaking in Afrikaans, reported back to the captain, they’re not short of coffee though.

Coffee eh! Piet, get the receipt book, and then turning to Sam said, I’m requisitioning your coffee and Piet here will give you a receipt for it so that whenever you’re in Bloemfontein, our supply depot will reimburse you for what we have taken, once you produce the receipt.

Sam nearly exploded, that’s straight out robbery. What are we supposed to drink?

Standing next to him, Sandy elbowed Sam in the ribs,

I’m sure the captain will leave enough for us until we get to Bloemfontein. Now if that’s all captain, we’d like to get some dinner ready, we want to make an early start in the morning.

Not quite. Jacob, fetch me your horse blanket and spread it on the ground.

Sam and Sandy watched this command carried out, in some amazement.

Now, the captain said to them, I want you to empty your pockets and put everything on the blanket.

Really, Sam protested, I suppose you’re going to rob us now of out personal possessions?

No Meneer, I’m making sure you are not robbing us.

What the hell are you talking about?

Just do as I tell you.

Reluctantly Sam and Sandy emptied their pockets on the blanket.

Now Jacob, pat them down and make sure there is nothing sewn in their clothes, the captain ordered, just making sure there are no diamonds tucked away in your clothing.

Diamonds! Sam protested, why would we want to sew them in our clothes? I thought they would be worn outside the clothing so everyone can see how rich and beautiful you are.

You must think we’re stupid or something. We all know about foreigners trying to smuggle our diamonds out of the country, the captain snorted.

After a very thorough frisking, Jacob held out his hands, opening his palms to show he found nothing.

All clear eh! I suppose you may have a couple of diamonds shoved up your arse and if you have, good luck to you, my job does not order me to stick my fingers up there. Mount up men, we’re finished here, the captain ordered and the commando rode out of camp.

Sandy and Sam watched the commando disappear in the rising dust and then looked at each other, dumbfounded.

I’ll be buggered, Sandy said at last, "that was the last thing I expected.

Yeah, lucky we thought of hiding the diamonds. There’s no way they could have missed them in the tent or wagons.

We thought of hiding the diamonds? Sandy asked with a touch of sarcasm.

All right, you did and just as well. We’d be in a heap crap if they found them.

Worse than that, I reckon, we’d be dead. Shot on the spot. You know, a thought just occurred to me. If Jeb was right about the value of those stones, the Boers could just about finance a mercenary army to do their fighting for them.

You’re probably right and you know, the thought frightens me.

Really, how?

It’s a long way from here to Durban and we are sure to encounter more commando patrols. What if one of them jumps us where we don’t have time to hide the diamonds. What then?

That’s a good point Sandy agreed.

We have to think of a plan of hiding them or disguising them.

I agree but how? We can’t cut down a tree, hollow it out and stick them in there and then say we are loggers taking this log to Durban. Besides we don’t have the resources to dummy up anything, We don’t even have a saw.

I know but there’s got to be someway, there just has to be. Why don’t we think about it, throw about some ideas, no matter how stupid. Some thing’s might be useful.

Two or more hours went by, together with a lot of stupid ideas but no trace of a solution.

Ironic isn’t it, Sam sighed, "here we are sitting on a fortune in diamonds and we can’t come up with a single