Master of the Game (3 page)

“Someone should have warned you about that. Passengers have died on that trip.” There was anger in her eyes.

Jamie grinned. “I can’t blame them. But I’m very much alive, thank you.”

“And going out to hunt for
mooi klippe
.”

“Mooi klippe?”

“That’s our Dutch word for diamonds. Pretty pebbles.”

“You’re Dutch?”

“My family’s from Holland.”

“I’m from Scotland.”

“I could tell that.” Her eyes flicked warily toward the back of the store again. “There are diamonds around, Mr. McGregor, but you must be choosy where you look for them. Most of the diggers are running around chasing their own tails. When someone makes a strike, the rest scavenge off the leavings. If you want to get rich, you have to find a strike of your own.”

“How do I do that?”

“My father might be the one to help you with that. He knows everything. He’ll be free in an hour.”

“I’ll be back,” Jamie assured her. “Thank you, Miss van der Merwe.”

He went out into the sunshine, filled with a sense of euphoria, his aches and pains forgotten. If Salomon van der Merwe would advise him where to find diamonds, there was no way Jamie could fail. He would have the jump on all of them. He laughed aloud, with the sheer joy of being young and alive and on his way to riches.

Jamie walked down the main street, passing a blacksmith’s, a billiard hall and half a dozen saloons. He came to a sign in front of a decrepit-looking hotel and stopped. The sign read:

R-D MILLER, WARM AND COLD BATHS.
OPEN DAILY FROM
6
A.M. TO
8
P.M.,
WITH THE COMFORTS OF A NEAT
DRESSING ROOM

Jamie thought,
When did I have my last bath? Well, I took a bucket bath on the boat. That was
—He was suddenly aware of how he must smell. He thought of the weekly tub baths in the kitchen at home, and he could hear his mother’s voice calling, “Be sure to wash down below, Jamie.”

He turned and entered the baths. There were two doors inside, one for women and one for men. Jamie entered the men’s section and walked up to the aged attendant. “How much is a bath?”

“Ten shillings for a cold bath, fifteen for a hot.”

Jamie hesitated. The idea of a hot bath after his long journey was almost irresistible. “Cold,” he said. He could not afford to throw away his money on luxuries. He had mining equipment to buy.

The attendant handed him a small bar of yellow lye soap and a threadbare hand towel and pointed. “In there, mate.”

Jamie stepped into a small room that contained nothing except a large galvanized-iron bathtub in the center and a few pegs on the wall. The attendant began filling the tub from a large wooden bucket.

“All ready for you, mister. Just hang your clothes on those pegs.”

Jamie waited until the attendant left and then undressed. He looked down at his grime-covered body and put one foot in the tub. The water was cold, as advertised. He gritted his teeth and plunged in, soaping himself furiously from head to foot. When he finally stepped out of the tub, the water was black. He dried himself as best he could with the worn linen towel and started to get dressed. His pants and shirt were stiff with dirt, and he hated to put them back on. He would have to buy a change of clothes, and this reminded him once more of how little money he had. And he was hungry again.

Jamie left the bathhouse and pushed his way down the crowded street to a saloon called the Sundowner. He ordered a beer and lunch. Lamb cutlets with tomatoes, and sausage and potato salad and pickles. While he ate, he listened to the hopeful conversations around him.

“…I hear they found a stone near Colesberg weighin’ twenty-one carats. Mark you, if there’s
one
diamond up there, there’s plenty more…”

“…There’s a new diamond find up in Hebron. I’m thinkin’ of goin’ there…”

“You’re a fool. The big diamonds are in the Orange River…”

At the bar, a bearded customer in a collarless, striped-flannel shirt and corduroy trousers was nursing a shandygaff in a large glass. “I got cleaned out in Hebron,” he confided to the bartender. “I need me a grubstake.”

The bartender was a large, fleshy, bald-headed man with a broken, twisted nose and ferret eyes. He laughed. “Hell, man, who doesn’t? Why do you think I’m tendin’ bar? As soon as I have enough money, I’m gonna hightail it up the Orange myself.” He wiped the bar with a dirty rag. “But I’ll tell you what you might do, mister. See Salomon ven der Merwe. He owns the general store and half the town.”

“What good’ll that do me?”

“If he likes you, he might stake you.”

The customer looked at him. “Yeah? You really think he might?”

“He’s done it for a few fellows I know of. You put up your labor, he puts up the money. You split fifty-fifty.”

Jamie McGregor’s thoughts leaped ahead. He had been confident that the hundred and twenty pounds he had left would be enough to buy the equipment and food he would need to survive, but the prices in Klipdrift were astonishing. He had noticed in Van der Merwe’s store that a hundred-pound sack of Australian flour cost five pounds. One pound of sugar cost a shilling. A bottle of beer cost five shillings. Biscuits were three shillings a pound, and fresh eggs sold for seven shillings a dozen. At that rate, his money would not last long.
My God
, Jamie thought,
at home we could live for a year on what three meals cost here
. But if he could get the backing of someone wealthy, like Mr. van der Merwe…Jamie hastily paid for his food and hurried back to the general store.

Salomon van der Merwe was behind the counter, removing the rifles from a wooden crate. He was a small man, with a thin, pinched face framed by Dundreary whiskers. He had sandy hair, tiny black eyes, a bulbous nose and pursed lips.
His daughter must take after her mother
, Jamie thought. “Excuse me, sir…”

Van der Merwe looked up.
“Ja?”

“Mr. van der Merwe? My name is Jamie McGregor, sir. I’m from Scotland. I came here to find diamonds.”

“
Ja?
So?”

“I hear you sometimes back prospectors.”

Van der Merwe grumbled, “
Myn magtig!
Who spreads these stories? I help out a few diggers, and everyone thinks I’m Santa Claus.”

“I’ve saved a hundred and twenty pounds,” Jamie said earnestly. “But I see that it’s not going to buy me much here. I’ll go out to the bush with just a shovel if I have to, but I figure my chances would be a lot better if I had a mule and some proper equipment.”

Van der Merwe was studying him with those small, black eyes. “
Wat denk ye?
What makes you think
you
can find diamonds?”

“I’ve come halfway around the world, Mr. van der Merwe, and I’m not going to leave here until I’m rich. If the diamonds are out there, I’ll find them. If you help me, I’ll make us both rich.”

Van der Merwe grunted, turned his back on Jamie and continued unloading the rifles. Jamie stood there awkwardly, not knowing what more to say. When Van der Merwe spoke again, his question caught Jamie off guard. “You travel here by bullock wagon,
ja?”

“No. Post cart.”

The old man turned to study the boy again. He said, finally, “We talk about it.”

They talked about it at dinner that evening in the room in back of the store that was the Van der Merwe living quarters. It was a small room that served as a kitchen, dining room and sleeping quarters, with a curtain separating two cots. The lower half of the walls was built of mud and stone, and the upper half was faced with cardboard boxes that had once contained provisions. A square hole, where a piece of wall had been cut out, served as a window. In wet weather it could be closed
by placing a board in front of it. The dining table consisted of a long plank stretched across two wooden crates. A large box, turned on its side, served as a cupboard. Jamie guessed that Van der Merwe was not a man who parted easily with his money.

Van der Meerwe’s daughter moved silently about, preparing dinner. From time to time she cast quick glances at her father, but she never once looked at Jamie.
Why is she so frightened?
Jamie wondered.

When they were seated at the table, Van der Merwe began, “Let us have a blessing. We thank Thee, O Lord, for the bounty we receive at Thy hands. We thank Thee for forgiving us our sins and showing us the path of righteousness and delivering us from life’s temptations. We thank Thee for a long and fruitful life, and for smiting dead all those who offend Thee. Amen.” And without a breath between, “Pass me the meat,” he said to his daughter.

The dinner was frugal: a small roast pork, three boiled potatoes and a dish of turnip greens. The portions he served to Jamie were small. The two men talked little during the meal, and Margaret did not speak at all.

When they had finished eating, Van der Merwe said, “That was fine, Daughter,” and there was pride in his voice. He turned to Jamie. “We get down to business,
ja?”

“Yes, sir.”

Van der Merwe picked up a long clay pipe from the top of the wooden cabinet. He filled it with a sweet-smelling tobacco from a small pouch and lighted the pipe. His sharp eyes peered intently at Jamie through the wreaths of smoke.

“The diggers here at Klipdrift are fools. Too few diamonds, too many diggers. A man could break his back here for a year and have nothing to show for it but
schlenters.”

“I—I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that word, sir.”

“Fools’ diamonds. Worthless. Do you follow me?”

“I—Yes, sir. I think so. But what’s the answer, sir?”

“The Griquas.”

Jamie looked at him blankly.

“They’re an African tribe up north.
They
find diamonds—big ones—and sometimes they bring them to me and I trade them for goods.” The Dutchman lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I know where they find them.”

“But could you nae go after them yourself, Mr. van der Merwe?”

Van der Merwe sighed. “No. I can’t leave the store. People would steal me blind. I need someone I can trust to go up there and bring the stones back. When I find the right man, I’ll supply him with all the equipment he needs.” He paused to take a long drag on the pipe. “And I’ll tell him where the diamonds are.”

Jamie leaped to his feet, his heart pounding. “Mr. van der Merwe,
I’m
the person you’re looking for. Believe me, sir, I’ll work night and day.” His voice was charged with excitement. “I’ll bring you back more diamonds than you can count.”

Van der Merwe silently studied him for what seemed to Jamie to be an eternity. When Van der Merwe finally spoke, he said only one word.
“Ja.”

Jamie signed the contract the following morning. It was written in Afrikaans.

“I’ll have to explain it to you,” Van der Merwe said. “It says we’re full partners. I put up the capital—you put up the labor. We share everything equally.”

Jamie looked at the contract in Van der Merwe’s hand. In the middle of all the incomprehensible foreign words he recognized only a sum:
two pounds
.

Jamie pointed to it. “What is that for, Mr. van der Merwe?”

“It means that in addition to your owning half the diamonds you find, you’ll get an extra two pounds for every week you work. Even though I know the diamonds are out there, it’s possible you might not find anything, lad. This way you’ll at least get something for your labor.”

The man was being more than fair. “Thank you. Thank you very much, sir.” Jamie could have hugged him.

Van der Merwe said, “Now let’s get you outfitted.”

It took two hours to select the equipment that Jamie would take into the bush with him: a small tent, bedding, cooking utensils, two sieves and a washing cradle, a pick, two shovels, three buckets and one change of socks and underwear. There was an ax and a lantern and paraffin oil, matches and arsenical soap. There were tins of food, biltong, fruit, sugar, coffee and salt. At last everything was in readiness. The black servant, Banda, silently helped Jamie stow everything into backpacks. The huge man never glanced at Jamie and never spoke one word.
He doesn’t speak English
, Jamie decided. Margaret was in the store waiting on customers, but if she knew Jamie was there, she gave no indication.

Van der Merwe came over to Jamie. “Your mule’s in front,” he said. “Banda will help you load up.”

“Thank you, Mr. van der Merwe,” Jamie said. “I—”

Van der Merwe consulted a piece of paper covered with figures. “That will be one hundred and twenty pounds.”

Jamie looked at him blankly. “W—what? This is part of our deal. We—”

“Wat bedui’di?”
Van der Merwe’s thin face darkened with anger. “You expect me to
give
you all this, and a fine mule, and make you a partner, and give you two pounds a week on top of
that?
If you’re looking for something for nothing, you’ve come to the wrong place.” He began to unload one of the backpacks.

Jamie said quickly, “No! Please, Mr. van der Merwe. I—I just didn’t understand. It’s pefectly all right. I have the money right here.” He reached in his pouch and put the last of his savings on the counter.

Van der Merwe hesitated. “All right,” he said grudgingly. “Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, neh? This town is full of cheaters. I have to be careful who I do business with.”

“Yes, sir. Of course you do,” Jamie agreed. In his excitement, he had misunderstood the deal.
I’m lucky he’s giving me another chance
, Jamie thought.

Van der Merwe reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrinkled, hand-drawn map. “Here is where you’ll find
the
mooi klippe
. North of here at Magerdam on the northern bank of the Vaal.”

Jamie studied the map, and his heart began to beat faster. “How many miles is it?”

“Here we measure distance by time. With the mule, you should make the journey in four or five days. Coming back will be slower because of the weight of the diamonds.”

Jamie grinned.
“Ja.”

When Jamie McGregor stepped back out onto the streets of Klipdrift, he was no longer a tourist. He was a prospector, a digger, on his way to his fortune. Banda had finished loading the supplies onto the back of a frail-looking mule tethered to the hitching post in front of the store.