The Mystery of the Timehri Rock Paintings

“This is the last time I am telling you to turn back, you shouldn’t poke your nose into what doesn’t concern you. Turn back or I’ll stone you,” he said.

“We wouldn’t turn back until we capture you,” answered James.

“All right,” came the croaking accentuated reply, “ take these with the compliments of Alfie Walcott.”

Alfie Walcott as the man called himself, bent down and with his one hand began hurtling stones and other missiles at the boys mercilessly.

The trio was in a very difficult and tenuous position. In front of them was a one handed maniac throwing rocks and stones at them, under them a narrow and swaying bridge and below a 30 meter wide ditch. The light was blinding, making it impossible to see the flying objects, many of which fell into ditch and splattered them with mud and grime.

Walcott laughed as coarse raindrops began to fall. He sensed that the night was worsening much to his advantage. A huge grey cloud with arms like an octopus blotted out the moon and even shadows were obscured. Alfie Walcott turned off his flash light instantly and peppered the darkness with objects. Henry wondered how a man with one hand could produce such a rapidity of fire. The boys could do nothing. An object struck James in his face, he groaned and groped in the darkness for support but found none and fell into the ditch. There was a tremendous thud as he fell and Walcott laughed gleefully and beamed his light on the struggling James.

“See you brave guys,” he said, “I must be going. I have a meeting with the boss, you’ll get the chance to meet the two of us one day.”