Devil's Valley (12 page)

“Sounds like a long story?” I asked.

Tant Poppie nodded gravely. “The best cures take time, you see. But there’s quick ones too. For heartburn I give them gum from the sweet-thorn tree, or plain raw earth, and for almost any ache under the sun a mixture of goat’s droppings and vinegar helps on the spot. You can apply it to the skin or you can drink it. Those droppings are really wonderful stuff. But for some complaints you need more patience. For instance, for gout you have to rub some snake poison into a cut on your skin every Sunday just before church, right through the winter months. Or otherwise you wear a thin riempie cut from the skin of a leguan. Now take something like epilepsy. To cure that I have to cut the person’s nails for three Fridays in a row, toes and fingers; then I mix these with a few hairs cut from his crown, and I feed the lot to the runt of a pig litter. The piglet is then buried alive, and by the time he starts rotting the patient is cured.” She shifted on her chair again. Her folded hands could barely reach over her stomach. “So any time you have a problem, Neef Flip, you know who to come to.”

“I will,” I promised, keeping a straight face, then leaned forward with my elbows on the table. “But my real problem is not one of health, Tant Poppie. There are so many things in the Devil’s Valley I simply don’t understand yet, and I wondered whether you could help. You have such a way with people.”

If she was a cat, I’m sure she would have purred. “What is it you don’t understand?”

Small and Precise

In this kind of situation, my job has taught me, one starts with something small and precise, not with the larger issues. I placed my little tape recorder on the table between us and pressed Start.

“What’s that thing?” Tant Poppie asked with heavy suspicion in her voice.

“It helps me to remember,” I said cryptically, anxious to avoid details which might put her off.

She kept a wary eye on the recorder as she asked, “Well, what is it you want to know?”

“Can we start with Little-Lukas?”

“What about him?”

“Why is everybody so set against him? No one seems to care about his death. And if he really was a direct descendant of Grandpa Lermiet’s then surely he should have had some standing here.”

“He did. But you must understand that in this place we want to keep our lives to ourselves. He spoke too much.”

“You mean to me?”

“Yes, to you. But of course we didn’t think of you then the way we do now.”

“Was it only Grandpa Lermiet who made the difference?”

“We always look up to him.”

“Even though he’s been dead for so long?”

“He may be dead but he’s still around. You saw him yourself.”

“His grave is empty.”

“Ja.” She uttered something between a sigh and a chuckle. “You see, some time after his death, this is how the story goes, people started hearing sounds coming from his grave at night. A kind of knocking. Some said a voice crying out. It went on until people got so upset they decided to dig up the grave. When they opened the coffin, it was all filled with hair and nails, no sign of Grandpa Lukas himself. But a few weeks later people started seeing him, here, there, all over the place. It was then they decided to leave the grave open so he could come and go as he wished. It suits him like that. For Nagmaal, or when there’s something special happening, he comes down here, otherwise he just looks after the goats on the mountain. It saves hands. And he keeps out strangers when they come too close.”

Heathen Habits

“I’ve been told,” I said, “that over the years a number of outsiders tried to come in here: government agents, tax men, police, census people?”

“Ja. Grandpa Lukas could never stand those nose-pokers.”

“What became of them?”

“Depends. Most of the time he just scares them off and they leave. He has his ways. But when they don’t listen, he passes it on to Hans Magic or Lukas Death, then they get our Council of Justice to make a decision.”

“And then?”

“Some of them got killed in accidents. In the old days it was sometimes necessary to send out a commando. That was before my time. All I personally know about was when an excise man came in here, I was still a child, the man wanted to confiscate the pot-still that belonged to Tall-Fransina’s father. But then old Lukas Devil, he was Lukas Death’s father, well, he and a few helpers led the man back up the mountain and somewhere along the way he caused trouble and fell down a cliff. Anyway, that’s what we were told.” Her broad face remained blank. “Of course, not all strangers were thrown out. Take Jurg Water’s grandfather and two of his friends who also came in here, they were rebels or something, and they were invited to stay, they were given wives, because the government out there was seeking their blood. Many years later two others came in from another war and were welcomed among us, because they were also having trouble with their government. There were even policemen sent after them, but those soon came to grief in the mountains. And then, still later, there was a whole lot of scribes and pharisees or whatever trying to come in to find out all about us, our history, our customs, everything. Said they came from some place of learning. The same place Little-Lukas went to afterwards. The town is called Stellenbosch.”

“What happened to them?”

“They were just told to go. Our men had guns with them, and they stripped the strangers of all their clothes, so they did as they were told. And that was that. We really don’t want outsiders here. One never knows what they can bring in with them. Diseases, heathen habits, idolatry, unrest, all kinds of things.”

“Is is really because the people in the Devil’s Valley are scared of strangers, or are they hiding something?” I knew I was pushing it, but I had to risk it.

“Like what?” she asked.

“I’m just asking.”

“It’s the good Lord Himself who brought us here,” she said, flaring up. “If it wasn’t His will, we wouldn’t be here today. You seen these mountains for yourself. What’s in here is meant to stay here, and what’s outside must stay out. It’s clear as daylight that God didn’t want us to mix with others. We got to keep our blood pure. We’re strong on purity in the Devil’s Valley. That’s why he wanted to keep us from all the evil out there.”

Changed

“What do you people really know about the outside world?” I asked.

“It’s a bad place.”

“The country has changed a lot.”

She didn’t answer, but her two squinting eyes were watching me like spiders.

“The country went through bad times which lasted for many years,” I said, “but a while ago we had elections and now there’s a new government and everything.” Even if it might be asking for trouble, I couldn’t stop myself. “We even have a black president now. The whole world looks up to him.”

“Well then you can mos see what God wanted to protect us from.”

“One thing I noticed here,” I said, “is that all the people in the Devil’s Valley do their own work. I find it hard to understand, because I know what our people are like. At the time of the Great Trek, of which the Seer was part, each family took their own servants with them. Free slaves and indentured labourers and such like. There were as many of them as Trekkers. Are you telling me there never were any black servants with the Lermjet party?”

“It was God’s will that only Boers came in here,” she said with solemn emphasis. “Kaffirs and Englishmen are enemies. The Bible says they shall bruise our heel and we shall bruise their head. We’re very strict on keeping God’s law and ordinances. Don’t you remember the Israelites in Canaan?—God told them to kill all the Philistines and things, and when they didn’t do it properly the place became a hell-hole of heathens and idolaters.”

Vermin

“Did the early settlers in the valley also have to kill strangers?”

“There was no need,” she said. “I told you mos there was no one else here, this place was set aside for us from the beginning of time, so God kept it clean for us.”

“At least there must have been Bushmen around at some stage,” I pressed the point. “I saw their paintings up there.”

“So what?” She uttered an angry grunt. “We’re talking of
people
, man. Bushmen are vermin. Anyway, if there was any of them around it must have been long before the Lermiets came in.”

“How lucky to find such a fertile spot just waiting for you,” I bitched.

She didn’t seem to catch my sarcasm, but even so it took a while before the heaving of her bosom returned to normal.

I went on: “We on the outside just had to learn the hard way to get along with others.”

“Ja, so I heard.”

“So you do get news from outside?”

She studied me carefully for a few minutes before she answered, “From time to time we hear stories. When Isak Smous goes out with his stuff he brings us news. But it only strengthens us in what we know. I told you we live according to the Scriptures here.” She was working herself up again. “Every Wednesday Brother Holy has a Bible-study session to explain it all to us. There’s only one Bible in the valley, you see, the one the Seer brought with him, it’s kept on the pulpit now. But thanks to Brother Holy we learned most of it by heart. You people from outside won’t understand. You don’t know us.”

“That’s why I came. To get to know you.”

“It’s not just a matter of coming here and getting to know us, man. One must be born here to understand from the inside. Only God has the right to judge.” I picked up an unexpected edge to her voice: “You see, not all of us can escape judgement by cheating death the way Grandpa Lukas does.”

“Did he do something that deserved judgement then?”

“Who am I to say? What does one person know about another?”

Another dead-end, like when Prickhead and I came up against the sheet of rock. I had to find another entry.

“What about Grandpa Lukas’s wife?” I asked. “Is she still around too?”

“The dead are always with us. It says so in the Bible.”

I’d have liked to take her on about this, but I’m afraid my knowledge of the Bible wasn’t up to it. For the moment I simply persisted: “I’ve heard how they came down here. The wagons falling down the cliffs, the eyes of the oxen poked out, the mountains covered in snow, the children dying. And how Grandpa Lukas’s wife had to bear it all. Until at last he decided they could go back.”

“He saw a vision,” she corrected me.

“I suppose so. But then he had the accident. How did she cope with it all?”

“God made most women to suffer.” Her little black eyes flashed at me. “But why do you go on so, gnawing at the past like a dog with a bone? We were never beholden to anyone here. We always got along well with God, we understand each other.”

Is Just Trouble

“God seems to be getting impatient,” I ventured. “If the drought is anything to go by.”

She sighed. “I’m afraid this drought will pass without a drop of rain,” she said. “But we’ve come through worse than this, and we’ll do so again. God chastises those he loves, you see. So when life gets hard we know the Lord is close. And this coming Wednesday we’re having a day of prayer. Perhaps he’s just waiting for that to open the sluice-gates.”

“Some people say the drought is sent as punishment.”

“If that is so, it can only be because of Little-Lukas.” An angry gesture sent shock-waves through her upper arms. “He always had ants up his arse.”

“But other children also went to study outside before he did?”

“They just went to school. He was the first to go further. What do you call that place?”

“University.”

“That’s right. Little-Lukas was too clever for his own good, man. And he managed to swing them all, including Grandpa Lukas. If you ask me, it was because he had that girl Emma on his side, because I think the old man had a weak spot for her. All the men had. Many years ago there was another one like her. Mooi-Janna. Lovely-Janna. She walked barefoot through all the men’s dreams. No one could tame her, she was like a klipspringer in the mountains. But one day she fell down a krans and died. If you ask me, they’re all besotted with Emma just because they never got over the sadness the Valley still feels about Mooi-Janna. That’s why with Emma everything is on a knife’s edge. You always get the feeling that with her it could go this way or that, heaven or hell.”

“I saw Emma in church yesterday.”

“Everybody was in church yesterday.”

“She and Little-Lukas were close.”

“He was all over her,” she grunted.

“Did the people talk about it?”

“Why should they talk about it?”

“They weren’t married, were they?”

“What happens in the dark happens mos in the dark.”

I couldn’t make out whether she was serious or merely trying to cover up.

“I’d like to meet this Emma,” I said. “I have the feeling I won’t begin to understand Little-Lukas before I know more about her.”

“Emma is just trouble, man,” she snarled, more fiercely than I’d have expected.

“But I’ve
got
to speak to her, Tant Poppie.”

“You’d do well to stay away from her.”

“Little-Lukas spoke nothing but good of her,” I said, although I couldn’t really remember any particulars.

“He was bewitched by her.”

“Surely he knew her better than anyone else?” I asked.

“No one knows Emma the way I do,” she hit back and got up, making it quite clear that as far as she was concerned the conversation was over.

Devil’s Handiwork

But I couldn’t possibly back off now. “How can you say so, Tant Poppie?”

She studied me for a moment, then relented. “Because I brought her up. I took pity on her when everyone else was against her, poor little mite. All orphaned and alone. If it wasn’t for me, they’d have—” she checked herself—“she’d have gone the same way as her mother. But I must have known better. She has the mark of the Devil on her body.”

That made me sit up. “What’s his mark look like?”

“One doesn’t talk about the Devil’s handiwork.”

She started clearing the table.

“Why isn’t Emma living with you any more?”

“Look, for years I protected her. But then she turned Little-Lukas’s head. So when Hans Magic decided he must die, I told her to clear out. It doesn’t pay to get into Hans Magic’s bad books.”