The Colour of Gold

The Colour of
Gold

By

Oliver T.
Spedding

© Copyright
2015 Oliver T. Spedding

Smashwords
Edition

***

Smashwords
Edition, Licence Notes

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***

CHAPTER 1

The little grey
lizard warmed itself in the rays from the early morning sun. Broken
dry leaves and small pieces of dry grass were scattered across the
surrounding sandy soil. Several small stones, gigantic boulders to
the tiny creature, lay clustered behind it. The fragile fragments
of the white shell that the lizard had emerged from only a few
hours earlier lay discarded nearby, their stark whiteness
unnaturally bright in the early light. Birds twittered in the
nearby bushes and in the distance the dull murmur of waves crashing
against huge brown rocks washed through the still, warm air.

With infinite
patience a dark shape moved slowly and stealthily from amongst the
brown stones behind the tiny lizard. Two large, cruel pinchers,
their black surfaces glistening in the sunlight raised themselves
off the dry sandy surface on each side of the gross, black scorpion
as it stared intently at its prey, its tiny eyes like small,
unemotional camera lenses. Ever so slowly the creature moved out
into the open, directly behind the delicate, grey reptile. With
infinite care the deadly black brute edged closer to its
unsuspecting victim. Slowly its black, segmented tail rose into the
air, the vicious sting at its tip pulsing rhythmically as it
prepared to inject its paralyzing contents into the body of its
prey.

The baby lizard
basked in the sun’s rays as its cold blood warmed and thinned in
the heat. The joy of life filled the little body as it stared at
the lush, green surroundings and the clear, blue sky. Suddenly its
sense of well-being was shattered by some strange sense that warned
of impending danger. But the warning came too late.

With a final
lightning rush the scorpion reached the tiny lizard and grabbed it
firmly by its right back leg with its one pincher and cruelly on
the back with the other. The trapped creature kicked desperately
with its other three legs as it tried to free itself, its tiny body
wriggling frantically as it emitted short, faint whimpers of fear.
The frenzied movement of its victim excited the glistening, black
scorpion and its tail arched over its head and the needle-sharp
point of its sting drove through the thin skin of the hopelessly
trapped reptile. The death-bringing fluid flowed into the tiny
body, driving the life from everything that it touched. The
movements of the little lizard slowed into sporadic kicks as the so
newly created life left its body. Its gentle, brown eyes lost their
lustre and slowly closed as death came to it.

Suddenly the
hideous, black monster tensed as it sensed something very large
approaching. With its dead prey held firmly in its cruel pinchers
the scorpion scuttled to the safety of its lair beneath a large,
rough rock. The ground trembled as the unknown thing approached and
the scorpion raised its tail as it prepared to defend itself. Just
as suddenly as it had approached, the impending danger receded into
the distance and the scorpion lowered its tail. It began to devour
its prey.

***

Isaiah Zuma
hurried along the faint dirt path that twisted up the steep
hillside and through the coarse, yellow grass that covered most of
the valley. He didn’t notice the small, white pieces of eggshell
that he crushed beneath the thickly calloused sole of his large,
black bare foot. He glanced at the sun climbing into the sky to his
left. It was going to be a scorching day. He hoped that once he
reached the main road to Durban he would quickly get a lift from a
passing truck. He didn’t relish the thought of walking all the way
to the city. He reached the summit of the hill and paused to look
back, realising that he was unlikely to see this part of the
country again for some time.

The vast,
shallow valley, typical of Zululand in South Africa, stretched out
below him bordered on both sides by low, rolling green-brown hills.
Scattered carelessly across the valley floor were a number of
small, crude farms each consisting of a cluster of dome-like grass
huts and a small field of yellowing maize plants. In between the
small agricultural plots were stretches of pale green veldt. Two
sprawling copses of dark green wattle trees broke the bareness of
the landscape. Like fine cracks, pale grey footpaths connected the
little homesteads through the thick grass in an intricate web of
designed necessity.

Near the base
of one of the distant hills Isaiah could just make out the little
cluster of grass huts with its adjacent maize fields where he had
spent most of his nineteen years. The three round grass hovels in
which he and his father and mother had lived shimmered in the
rapidly increasing heat. His mouth tightened momentarily at the
thought of no longer being part of the little unit that had
struggled year after year to survive in the harsh environment that
was his homeland.

Isaiah’s
ancestors had arrived in Natal from the North approximately 300
years ago as they searched for suitable land on which to graze
their cattle. The small clan lived peacefully and grew in numbers
until one of their offspring, Chaka, in a series of well planned
and strategic moves came to dominate the people in the area. Many
years of conflict and bloodshed followed until eventually, as more
and more white settlers arrived from the South together with the
British army, peace was established.

From the day
that he was born, Isaiah lived on the little plot of family land in
the vicinity of Eshowe and as the only child, helping his father
till the soil and harvest the meagre crop of maize that formed
their basic diet. The entire area survived on subsistence farming
with small herds of cattle providing meat and a measure of wealth.
On very special occasions cattle were slaughtered to appease the
Gods but in general cattle were the most prized possessions of
farmers in the area. A few cows provided milk and cheese. Families
survived on the absolute minimum and often, in times of severe
drought, had to beg from larger communities to avoid perishing.

Because of the
family’s extreme poverty Isaiah had had very little access to
formal education and it was only during the few years of abundance
that he was able to attend the outdoor school at the nearby
village. Here he had been taught the basics of reading, writing and
arithmetic. His mother, Rebecca, had encouraged Isaiah to read and
write in the evenings by the faint light of the short candle that
stood on the rickety table in their hut and he had been fascinated
by the logic of arithmetic and the beauty of the written word. He
had practiced diligently but the abject poverty that prevailed
severely stifled the young boy’s progress. While watching over the
cattle during the day, Isaiah practiced his arithmetic using small
stones and pieces of wood. He divided the stones into groups to
help him understand multiplication, addition and subtraction and
wrote letters and words in the dry sand with a stick to improve his
understanding of the written word. Often he got into trouble with
his father when the cattle strayed into neighbouring fields because
they had been neglected by the young shepherd who was trying to
educate himself. His father, James, understood though, realizing
how important it was for his son to have an education. Poverty was
like a wall that prevented his son from achieving anything
academically and he encouraged Isaiah to improve himself
constantly.

Realising that
an education was an essential ingredient for financial success,
Isaiah made a vow to himself that he would one day have sufficient
means to educate himself properly and earn an income that would
enable him to provide for his father and mother in their old age.
They had endured so much in their efforts to survive and provide
for him that he was determined that they should not have to endure
any more of the difficulties that had made up their lives to date.
He would see that they spent their last days in comfort.

When Isaiah’s
father died after being bitten by a snake, the only hope the two
remaining members of the family had of surviving was for Isaiah to
seek employment on the gold mines in Johannesburg and send whatever
money he could to his mother so as to provide her with sufficient
income to live comfortably and also pay the taxes that were owed on
the smallholding to the clan’s chief. The money also had to be
sufficient to purchase fodder for the livestock. It was with a
heavy heart and a great deal of trepidation that Isaiah took leave
of his mother and headed out into the unknown.

There’s a
common misconception that all Zulu men are tall and well built.
Isaiah proved that this was a myth. He was of medium height and,
due to the constant malnutrition that he had been subjected to,
considerably underweight. His head was noticeably big for his thin
body, with coarse, black, tufted hair, protruding ears and a slim,
pointed chin. His nose was large and flat and his big brown eyes
set well apart. His most noticeable facial feature though, was the
large gap between his two front teeth. Nobody could help but notice
this flaw but Isaiah was totally oblivious to this abnormality. His
feet were comically large for his thin legs as were his large,
rough hands for his thin arms. His complexion was a dark brown
colour that accented the whites of his eyes and his large white
teeth. He walked with a plodding gait that was unusual for someone
so young but the rest of his movements were those of a man still to
reach his prime and who was seeking to achieve important goals in
his life.

Isaiah wore
worn, patched khaki trousers and a thin white T-shirt. Over his
narrow shoulders he had draped his thick, colourful blanket that he
hoped would protect him from the cold winter winds that were so
loathed in the part of the country where he was headed. Rebecca had
urged him to wear his father’s old leather shoes but Isaiah was so
used to going barefoot that he knew that he would discard them
after a very short time and so, had left them lying on the dirt
floor of his mother’s hut. If he really needed shoes, he reasoned,
he would buy a more suitable pair when he had secured a paying
job.

***

Because of the
destitute situation that he had experienced for most of his
childhood, Isaiah had learned that it paid to please people and, as
a result, had cultivated a friendly, almost servile attitude to
help him through life. Deep down however, he had a steely
determination to get his own way when and if he felt that it was
his right.

Isaiah
continued steadily along the dry, sandy path running parallel to
the coastline and towards the main road. The intensity of the sun’s
heat increased as the day wore on and the thick blanket over his
shoulders became more and more uncomfortable. He considered
removing it but realized that carrying it under his arm would be
even more of a problem. It was better to simply endure the
discomfort. Once he reached the main road he would remove it and
put it on the ground next to him while he waited for a truck to
give him a lift to Durban.

Rebecca had
given Isaiah as much as she could of the precious savings that the
family had managed to accumulate over the years. It didn’t amount
to much but it would get Isaiah to Johannesburg by bus and pay for
his accommodation and food for a week once he arrived there. Isaiah
realized that it was imperative that he find work on the mines
within that time. If he didn’t he would be in big trouble as
unemployed people from outside the Johannesburg area were quickly
sent back to their original areas if they were discovered by the
police. Only black people with permits allowing them to be in
Johannesburg were allowed to stay there and Isaiah had to find work
on a mine to acquire such a permit or “pass”.

As Isaiah got
closer to the main road he detected the unmistakable smell of the
sea and as he crested a low hill, the flat turquoise ocean spread
out before him. He stopped to take in the beauty of the scene in
front of him. The azure stretch of water had a strong calming
effect on Isaiah and he felt his trepidation about the future slip
away. His confidence rose and he walked on with a new spring in his
step.

By the time
Isaiah reached the main road going south to Durban it was mid
afternoon. The heat was stifling. Gratefully he shrugged his
blanket from his shoulders, folded it carefully and placed it on
the ground at his feet. A faint breeze wafted over him and he felt
the sharp chill of his sweat evaporating. He sighed with pleasure
and stomped his feet on the grass to rid them of the red dust that
they had collected.