Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Title
- Author’s Note
- Glossary
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Acknowledgments
Clare checked her watch. It was almost an hour since she’d left Faye at the bridge. She should turn back. The sky was gravel-grey. Possibly darker than when she’d set off. She stopped and looked around. The woodland was visible ahead, rising dense and dark at the edge of the fynbos. She smiled as she thought about Faye and the wild pigs. To her left, the veld, stippled with a miscellany of mountain fynbos, grasses and bushes, stretched into the distance to where the mountains merged with the clouds. Not far from the path on the other side, Clare saw the edge of the ravine.
Imagining it might be possible to see down to the river from there, she made her way through the veld to the lip of the gorge. As she approached, Clare saw how dramatically the earth fell away. She leaned forward, peering over, but couldn’t see the bottom of the valley. She needed to get closer to the edge. To her left, she spotted a large boulder with several substantial protea plants growing near it. She climbed onto the rock and examined the proteas. With their roots lodged in the earth alongside the boulder, the plants were sturdy and secure. Clare inched towards the rim of the boulder and grabbed the largest branch that she could get her hand around.
Leaning forward, she saw the river snaking through the canyon. Even from a distance, it was obvious the water, white and turbulent, was flowing fiercely. She and Faye might’ve thought the stream near Heuningbos Hut was full, but the Bloukrans River had risen above its banks. Cutting new channels through the earth here and there, it was severely flooded. It didn’t seem possible that anyone could traverse it today, not by foot or in a car.
Clare gazed up the valley and onto the mountains on the other side of the river. Where was her father? She knew that Grootkloof Cabin wasn’t far from the river, but was it visible from here? Seeing the faint line of the path that led from the river into the trees, she traced it into the valley. It ended at a small opening and there Clare could make out three roofs; two covered with iron and one larger one, with thatch. That’s where the others would have spent the night. Were they still there? Might she spot them? Or at least see smoke rising?
She took a small step forward, her boot moving from the solid surface of the boulder into a pocket of gravel in a puddle of water. The gravel, lying in a thin layer of mud under the water, gave way beneath her foot.