Eagle’s Cry

I’m from Australia. My mate Eddie and I came here to make our fortunes in gold.”

My heart sank. This beautiful creature, born of the dawn, was one of the uitlanders whom we had been hearing so much about, foreigners who had come to Johannesburg to make their fortunes in the recently discovered gold mines. Now they were demanding voting rights. This, our president, Paul Kruger, vowed they would never get. The huge influx of adventurers – wild, godless, drunken men – now outnumbered Kruger’s followers. William himself, of course, did not look wild or drunken or godless, but then appearances weren’t everything, I warned myself. Oom Paulsaw the threat the uitlanders posed. They might drive him from office and destroy his republic and people.

“What are you doing in Barberton?” I asked, moving to my favourite rock on the hilltop and arranging my long, green skirt around my legs.

William slouched casually against a rock opposite me, moving his shoulders until he found a comfortable spot, his arms folded and one leg crossed carelessly over the other. He looked down at me with a friendly smile. “Eddie and I thought we’d get out of Johannesburg. We worked on the mines there for a while and made a bit of money, but it’s not the life for us. Johannesburg is the worst city in the world – lots of violence and crime. We heard there was still gold mining going on in Barberton, so we thought we’d try our luck as diggers here.”

I stared at him. Up to this moment, I had a hostile attitude towards uitlanders. Yet here was this attractive young man talking about his motives as if there was nothing amiss, as if it was the most natural thing to wander around, discover life and the world, accept or reject certain aspects, and look for wealth and a livelihood. On the heels of that thought came another: wasn’t that exactly what my four brothers were doing – Riaan in the state attorney’s office; Jan-Daniel as a journalist; and Pieter and Nikki on the great adventure with my parents in the Orange Free State?

I think I must have been glaring rather rudely at my new companion, because he looked back at me quizzically, his brow raised as his eyes met mine. My heart raced, and I felt myself blush. Those eyes!

“Enough about me,” he said. “What about you? What are you doing up here so early?”

Somehow, I had no problem sharing my secret thoughts, my innermost philosophy, with him. “I always get up early. Dawn is the best time of the day, with the promise of the day lying ahead. I get a thrilling sense of anticipation and excitement. And besides all that, how could I stay in the valley today, the first day of a new century?”

William’s eyes were suddenly intent, fixed on mine. “I know just what you mean. It’s as if heaven and earth are a bit closer for a moment.”

He stepped away from the rock and held out his hand. I put mine into his. As we touched, a feeling of delight surged through my whole body. He slowly drew me up until we stood face-to-face. It was very quiet. The air was clear and fine; we were in for another hot day. William and I moved closer to each other, our eyes locking. I felt breathless; my heart was racing. Why did I feel he and I were the only two people in the world?

Just then an eagle’s cry rent the air and broke the spell. Startled, we gazed up into the sky to see the eagle arrowing out of the blue nothingness, talons extended. Then it turned and disappeared behind a tree.

William drew his breath in sharply. “How magnificent,” he said, awe in his voice.

“He’s a familiar sight,” I told him. “His eyrie is high up in that mountain behind us.”

“It’s so beautiful here,” said William.

“So beautiful,” I agreed. “The mountains and the valley.”

“Is that a house up there?” he asked, pointing to where a homestead showed through the trees.

“Yes, that’s Eagle’s Nest. And I’d better be getting home,” I said.

“Home?”

“My farm, Eagle’s Nest.”

“Will I see you again?” William called after me as I walked away.

“I go for a gallop at dawn every day,” I called back, my heart beating faster at the thought of seeing him again. I think I knew even then that there was little hope of a future with an uitlander, as my heart warred with my head. “This will never work,” I told myself. “Forget it, Johanna. Forget it and forget him.”