Precious and the Mystery of Meercat Hill (6 page)

Kosi made his way cautiously around the legs and ankles. Now and then he stopped, and would fiddle with a shoelace or gingerly touch a bony ankle; now and then he would dodge out of the way if a
foot was suddenly moved. But then, finding a pair of particularly stout legs, he stopped and looked up. These legs were clearly very interesting to him, and he appeared to be unsure as to whether
or not to climb them. They looked very much like trees to Kosi – even if they were, in fact, the legs of the Principal of the school, a rather strict man who did not like it at all when
anybody did something wrong.

“Oh no,” groaned Pontsho, as he saw what was happening.

Kosi took a step forward and took hold of the principal’s trousers. Up above, the Principal felt something, and perhaps thought that a fly, or even maybe a spider, had landed on him and
would need to be brushed off. He was busy talking to one of the teachers at the time, and so he just leant forward, without looking what he was doing, and brushed the fly away.

Kosi saw the Principal’s hand approaching him and did what any meerkat would do. He leapt up as high as he could – and landed on the head of the teacher sitting next to the
Principal. In nature, meerkats will always seek the highest or the lowest point when they are worried. The highest point gives them a good view of approaching danger, and the lowest point gives
them refuge.

The teacher screamed. She had no idea what was perched on the top of her head as she could not see what it was. But the other teachers could, and they all cried out.

“He’s on your head!” they shouted.

And then they started to laugh. It was, of course, a very funny sight, and although we shouldn’t laugh at people, there are times when it’s impossible to keep the laughter in.

Happily, the teacher herself imagined how funny she must have looked, and began to laugh too.

Pontsho felt that there was only one thing to do. He knew that it would get him into trouble, but he had to retrieve Kosi from the teacher’s head. So he stepped forward, into the
teacher’s room, and called Kosi to him.

Seeing Pontsho, Kosi straightaway jumped off the teacher’s head and scampered across the room to his owner.

“Young man,” said the Principal sternly, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Pontsho said he was sorry. He knew that nobody was allowed to bring animals to school, and he would not do it again.

The Principal looked at him. He was frowning, and Pontsho knew that he was going to get into deep trouble. But then, quite suddenly, the Principal stopped frowning and a broad smile appeared on
his face.

“Well,” he said, “the rules say that nobody can bring a dog to school. They also say something about not bringing mice or other pets like that. But they don’t say
anything about meerkats, do they?”

“No,” said one of the teachers, beginning to laugh. “They don’t.”

The Principal raised a finger. “That’s not to say that the rules won’t say that in the future,” he said. “But for today, I think it will be all right.”

Pontsho looked at Precious with relief. She was standing at the door watching what was happening, and she was smiling too.

“You should tell us a bit more about this funny little creature,” said the Principal. “Come on – don’t be shy.”

So Pontsho told the teachers all about Kosi and about how he had saved his grandfather. At the end of this tale, the teachers all crowded round and were allowed to pat Kosi gently on the head.
Pontsho swelled with pride, as did Precious, and, I think, little Kosi did too. Meerkats like attention. They like people to pat them on the head and say nice things. Rather like the rest of us,
don’t you think?

OSI’S
visit to school ended well but then, a few days later, when school had just
finished for the day and Precious was starting her walk home, she came across Teb sitting by the side of the road – and she was crying. There was no sign of Pontsho.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting her arm around her friend’s shoulder.

For a little while Teb was sobbing too much to answer, but then she turned to Precious and told her. “Our cow,” she said, “is going to have a calf. But she wandered off
yesterday and she hasn’t come back. Pontsho stayed at home today to help call her.” Precious said she was very sorry to hear this news. She understood how important that cow was to
Teb’s family. It was just about everything they had. And when the calf was born that would be important too, as they could sell that to somebody and use the money to pay for food.

Teb dried her tears. “My mother doesn’t know what to do,” she said. “We’ve called her and called her, but we have no idea where she’s gone. Sometimes cows do
that, my grandfather said. He told me that cows just wander off and never return.”

Precious thought hard. She had already decided, even at her age, that when she grew up she would be a detective, and now here was a case right in front of her that needed solving.

“Can I help?” she asked gently.

Teb turned to her. “Could you?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Precious. But even as she spoke, she wondered what she could possibly do to solve the mystery of the missing cow. But, after a moment or two, it came to her. Had they
looked for tracks? When cows walk on the ground, they leave hoof-prints where they have been. Had Teb or Pontsho looked for these?