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    LJH
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Michael Dun - 15. Chapter 15

Mrs Minnaar introduces Michael and Charlie to Colonel Ignatius Ferriera...

Michael and Charlie ascended the randjie slowly to the summit and over.

 

Before them, lay a valley of semi-parched pans, hot earth, tents, wagons and people. Within half an hour they reached the first tents with a board that said, “Mrs. Minnaar’s Boarding House”. Inside, groups of tardy, unshaven men laughed, cried, smiled, and got drunk on mampoer and malt beer. Each man had a moustache or a beard or both. Some wore hats and some wore guns. Some laughed the blues away and others had given up. After a few moments a middle-aged woman introduced herself as Helena Minnaar. She offered them a place to sleep, on the floor on a ground sheet. Michael declined the offer; they had a more luxurious sleeping place, their wagon.

 

She liked these newcomers. She laughed aloud, “Found any gold?”

 

Michael and Charlie laughed, merely to entertain her silly little joke. Then she took their orders for two glasses of malt beer. They had travelled far. She guessed they came from England, upper class. Michael told her Coventry but that meant very little to her. They were confident, she noted, an ingredient for success, without it, they would not have the stamina to find gold.

 

Several men entered the bar and ordered, she served them quickly and returned to Michael and Charlie. She explained softly that every man in the tent was a digger. At the end of the day they came here sober and left drunk, to sleep and wake up in the morning to dig some more. Many of them were waiting for the farms to be proclaimed before buying but these were rumours.

 

There were two camps in the area for diggers. Natal Camp, on the banks of the Natalspruit and Ferreira’s Camp on the farm Turffontein. The land there had been leased to a Colonel Ignatius Ferreira. She had first hand information that he was on the look out for two fresh, and honest men.

 

“We intend working our own claim, thank you Madam.” Charlie said, quickly.

 

Mrs. Minnaar laughed and told them they had much to learn of these gold fields. As far as she knew, most of the land had been leased or purchased by syndicates and consortiums. The odd individual had purchased only a fraction of the land.

 

“Nevertheless, determination is always a keen sparkle in the eyes. They all have it, all the travelers, that particular sparkle, in the beginning. Some of them still have it in the end. But many will leave with nothing but the dust on their shoes…” She explained, her voice trailed away “The Colonel is a just, fair man and he knows good labour. Perhaps you should at least listen to what he has to say.”

 

Michael nodded. “There is absolutely no harm in doing that. Very well, we shall meet with this Colonel Ferreira.”

 

“Well, he will be passing here within the hour. Habitual. On his way from his diggings. Perhaps you would like to walk about and see for yourself what this place is all about. Or I can get you another drink. A word of advise, the Colonel does not tolerate drunk men.”

 

They walked about the camp and were amazed at the filth. A sewerage system was needed but the camp had not been declared a village. Men washed their clothing and hung them on lines stretched between the tents, and some polished boots in the doorways to their tents. Others planted grass and used rocks to demarcate their areas. The tents, once white, had become tinged with red dust.

  

*

 

There was a certain hypnotic whirl in the eyes of Colonel Ignatius Ferreira. In later years he would come to wear a long beard, now he was shaven, save for a droopy moustache in a square face and dark hair with a path cut through it. He was a veteran of the Zulu Wars, a listener more than a talker, a doer more than a watcher. Mrs. Minnaar introduced them, then excused herself and walked out of the tent.

 

The Colonel leaned forward and smiled, saying, “She is a brave woman indeed. Her husband died, leaving her in such utter grief that she emigrated to the Transvaal Republic from Natal with her son and two daughters," he sighed, then continued, “enough of the widow! I see you two are eager, strong men. You are Englishmen?”

 

Michael replied, with a mug of home brewed beer in his hands, that he did not regret leaving England. There had been a number of hiccups, but they had reached their destination. He believed that gold would be found in great quantities and the place would mushroom into a great city. He wanted to be a part of that.

 

The Colonel was impressed, he twirled his long moustache, saying, “what is your occupation, Mr. Dun?”

 

“I am a student of geology, sir.”

 

The Colonel leaned back and stared at Michael thoughtfully. “Interesting. Very useful. We are looking for banket. Gold bearing quartzite blocks of…”

 

Michael continued on his behalf, describing a brownish, oxidized rock that possessed pebbles of vein quartz deeply set into a quartzite matrix

 

The Colonel stopped him. “Work with me. I need someone like you.”

 

“We have our own dreams, sir.” Michael replied.

 

“In time, your dreams will come true.”

 

“We wish to find gold of our own on land of our own.”

 

“Land is difficult to come by here. There are three hundred men living in this camp. Many more in Natal Camp and Kimberley Camp. Some remain one step ahead, like myself. Mr. Dun, you are an intelligent man. Soon these fields will be spilling with men seeking their fortunes, as we are. Certainly, you will gain if you handle your affairs correctly. Join me.”

 

“We shall certainly keep your offer in mind. Thank you.” Michael said, faced with a dilemma. He had refused to be Peter Sheffield’s partner, now he was faced with an offer by what seemed to be an honest, upright man.

andjie = Afrikaans for hillock or hill
mampoer = Afrikaans for a home made brandy made from fruit
L J Harris
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 01/24/2011 05:46 AM, AnytaSunday said:
I'm glad for your glossary there. :)

 

I love that I finish a chapter and the next one's just come up! It's like it's my lucky day or something! hehe. I hope to get another one in before dinner...

 

And I will discuss some more things with you in your forum (soonish), I am probably just a silly reader, but I will ask the silly questions anyway.

 

Thanks!

hehehe. no problem...lol
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