previous night like I had expected. I hoped she was all right.
André and Simoshile came knocking later in the day. My mood lifted.
‘I’m so bored,’ sighed André.
‘You’ll just have to get used to it,’ said Simoshile.
‘Ek wens hulle wil nou daardie blerrie leeu vang en klaarkry!’
I frowned. What was that? Simoshile translated. ‘He says he wishes they would just catch that bloo … um, that lion and be done with it.’
‘We can at least move around in the main camp. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?’ I tried. ‘It isn’t as if we should stay inside all day.’
‘Buyi is right,’ said Simoshile. ‘Let’s go for a swim.’
‘Yeah!’ I shouted.
André moaned, saying something about it not being the same. That he wanted to go to the bush. Nonetheless he followed us to the pool.
All our troubles were soon forgotten once we dived into the crystal clear water. The coolness enveloping us.
A flurry of voices caught our attention. It was the Japanese visitors. They were huddled together near one of the guest chalets.
‘They’ve just returned from their morning walk with one of the rangers,’ said Simoshile. ‘That’s probably what’s got them all excited.’
‘Why can they go to the bush, but we can’t?’ I asked.
Simoshile rolled her eyes. ‘Because the ranger carries a rifle!’
‘Oh yeah, right. I forgot.’
‘Something’s really got them going, look,’ said André, stretching his neck to see what it was.
They were all chatty. Laughing, while trying to arrange themselves into a group. One of them tried to get a photo of the others. But something was amiss.
‘It’s the tortoise,’ said Simoshile.
‘The what?’ I said.
‘There, on the grass. It’s a tortoise. They’re all trying to have their picture taken with it.’
Now I saw it. The tortoise didn’t seem interested in his fifteen minutes of fame. As soon as the Japanese tourists had organised themselves into a group, all smiling for the camera, the tortoise had moved along. And they had to re-organise themselves all over again a few feet further on.
They seemed to be enjoying it though, bursting out in fits of laughter every now and again. And when they finally got it right, they switched photographers and the madness started all over again.
I sat watching them with a gaping mouth. Every now and again I could hear André and Simoshile chuckling.
Then, all satisfied, they disappeared to their chalets and tents. The tortoise was finally left to make its way back to the bush in peace.
Mama Unahti sensed our frustration when we aimlessly hung around the main building after returning from the pool.
‘Oh my children, my children,’ she said, her body jiggling as she slapped her hands together. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘We’re bored,’ said André.
Her face lit up. ‘Nonsense! There’s plenty to do.’
‘But we want to go to the bush.’
‘No, you heard what Lwazi said. Do you want to become that scarred lion’s prey?’
‘But –’
‘No buts. There’s a lot to do. Just look around you.’
‘Like what?’ asked André.
‘Go climb a tree,’ she answered.
‘Girls don’t climb trees,’ said Simoshile screwing up her face.
Mama Unahti clicked her tongue. ‘Ah! Says who? Go, go, go! Before Mister Dreyer sees you.’
I don’t think Mum would believe me if I told her, but I climbed a tree that day. Simoshile stayed behind on the ground. ‘I’ll keep a lookout for snakes,’ was her excuse.
‘Yeah, right,’ scoffed André as he made his way up. ‘As if you would be able to see a boomslang from down there.’
Could there really be snakes up there, I wondered. A shiver ran down my spine. I decided to keep my eyes peeled and didn’t really bother with the amazing view from the tree.
The day dragged on. We went back to my home, deciding to play with Umfana. He enjoyed all the attention. And being able to run around freely for a while.
It broke my heart to tie him up again when André
André and Simoshile came knocking later in the day. My mood lifted.
‘I’m so bored,’ sighed André.
‘You’ll just have to get used to it,’ said Simoshile.
‘Ek wens hulle wil nou daardie blerrie leeu vang en klaarkry!’
I frowned. What was that? Simoshile translated. ‘He says he wishes they would just catch that bloo … um, that lion and be done with it.’
‘We can at least move around in the main camp. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?’ I tried. ‘It isn’t as if we should stay inside all day.’
‘Buyi is right,’ said Simoshile. ‘Let’s go for a swim.’
‘Yeah!’ I shouted.
André moaned, saying something about it not being the same. That he wanted to go to the bush. Nonetheless he followed us to the pool.
All our troubles were soon forgotten once we dived into the crystal clear water. The coolness enveloping us.
A flurry of voices caught our attention. It was the Japanese visitors. They were huddled together near one of the guest chalets.
‘They’ve just returned from their morning walk with one of the rangers,’ said Simoshile. ‘That’s probably what’s got them all excited.’
‘Why can they go to the bush, but we can’t?’ I asked.
Simoshile rolled her eyes. ‘Because the ranger carries a rifle!’
‘Oh yeah, right. I forgot.’
‘Something’s really got them going, look,’ said André, stretching his neck to see what it was.
They were all chatty. Laughing, while trying to arrange themselves into a group. One of them tried to get a photo of the others. But something was amiss.
‘It’s the tortoise,’ said Simoshile.
‘The what?’ I said.
‘There, on the grass. It’s a tortoise. They’re all trying to have their picture taken with it.’
Now I saw it. The tortoise didn’t seem interested in his fifteen minutes of fame. As soon as the Japanese tourists had organised themselves into a group, all smiling for the camera, the tortoise had moved along. And they had to re-organise themselves all over again a few feet further on.
They seemed to be enjoying it though, bursting out in fits of laughter every now and again. And when they finally got it right, they switched photographers and the madness started all over again.
I sat watching them with a gaping mouth. Every now and again I could hear André and Simoshile chuckling.
Then, all satisfied, they disappeared to their chalets and tents. The tortoise was finally left to make its way back to the bush in peace.
Mama Unahti sensed our frustration when we aimlessly hung around the main building after returning from the pool.
‘Oh my children, my children,’ she said, her body jiggling as she slapped her hands together. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘We’re bored,’ said André.
Her face lit up. ‘Nonsense! There’s plenty to do.’
‘But we want to go to the bush.’
‘No, you heard what Lwazi said. Do you want to become that scarred lion’s prey?’
‘But –’
‘No buts. There’s a lot to do. Just look around you.’
‘Like what?’ asked André.
‘Go climb a tree,’ she answered.
‘Girls don’t climb trees,’ said Simoshile screwing up her face.
Mama Unahti clicked her tongue. ‘Ah! Says who? Go, go, go! Before Mister Dreyer sees you.’
I don’t think Mum would believe me if I told her, but I climbed a tree that day. Simoshile stayed behind on the ground. ‘I’ll keep a lookout for snakes,’ was her excuse.
‘Yeah, right,’ scoffed André as he made his way up. ‘As if you would be able to see a boomslang from down there.’
Could there really be snakes up there, I wondered. A shiver ran down my spine. I decided to keep my eyes peeled and didn’t really bother with the amazing view from the tree.
The day dragged on. We went back to my home, deciding to play with Umfana. He enjoyed all the attention. And being able to run around freely for a while.
It broke my heart to tie him up again when André
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