Oliver Strange and the journey to the swamps (school edition). Diane Hofmeyr
know. He’s disappeared.”
There was a roar as the train dived through a tunnel and they were plunged into darkness. Then with a whoosh they were out the other side. There was a rattle at the compartment door. A steward flung it open. A smell of curried chicken and burnt coffee wafted in.
“You hungry?” Zinzi asked.
Ollie nodded.
The setting sun made a fire that leapt into their compartment as they ate. Then just as quickly the fire went out. Ollie climbed onto his bunk and lay close to the window and stared out through his reflection into the greenish light. The moon was coming up. A huge round mother-of-pearl button stuck on a velvet coat against an outline of trees with flat tops and strange ones that seemed to be growing upside down with their roots in the air.
It was odd. Here he was in Africa watching the moon and Grandma was watching the same moon over the rooftops in Tooting. But everything was odd. It was odd his aunt hadn’t been there to meet him. Odd to be hurtling across Africa on a steam train. Odd to be sharing a compartment with a snake!
Zinzi had settled down with her ear-phones glued to her ears. He would write to Grandma but he wouldn’t tell her that Aunt Hortense hadn’t been at the airport to meet him. He began drawing the strange trees that looked as if they had roots in the air. When he had finished he lay back listening to the wheels of the train singing …
We’re going to I-la-la. We’re going to find your fa-ther.
We’re going to I-la-la. We’re going to find your fa-ther.
He woke with a start as something landed on his stomach. He lay not moving an eyelid and waited. It wasn’t heavy enough for a python. With a sudden squeal, a small shape went flying up into the luggage rack above him. He grabbed his torch. Two luminous eyes reflected back like bright torch lights.
“Puku!” he hissed as she leapt to the rack on the opposite side. The splint on her leg didn’t seem to bother her in the least. Ollie leant down from his bunk. “Zinzi! Wake up!”
“What?”
“Puku’s jumping about.”
“That’s what bush babies do at night.”
“All night?”
“Go to sleep, Ollie,” Zinzi mumbled.
“I can’t. Not with her causing chaos.”
“She’ll settle down when the sun comes up.”
Ollie peered out through the window. “That’s not for ages.”
“Sing her a lemur lullaby.”
A lemur lullaby? This girl was weird. “I don’t know any lemur lullabies!”
But Zinzi was already breathing deeply. He lay back in his bunk and began humming. Sure enough, Puku sat still and watched him. The humming must have put him to sleep too, because he woke with Zinzi shaking him. “Wake up! We’re here. We have to catch a bus to Kasane. But if you hurry there’s time to see the river and Mosi oa tunya – the smoke that thunders.”
Post-reading
| 1. | As he looks at the moon, what does Ollie find odd about his present position? |
| 2. | Ollie does not seem to know very much about wildlife. What is strange about that? |
| 3. | Based on this chapter, what kind of person do you think Zinzi is? |
| 4. | Write down a sentence with alliterative text. |
| 5. | After reading the first two chapters you should be able to relay the plot of this book to someone. In no more than five concise sentences, write the basic plot of the story. |
3. Mosi oa Tunya
Pre-reading
| 1. | Why do you think the Victoria Falls is called “Mosi oa Tunya” (The smoke that thunders)? |
| During reading | |
| 2. | Why had Ollie been put in a compartment with Zinzi? |
| 3. | Ollie is so fascinated by his first view of an African market that he has to be called away by Zinzi. What fascinates him? |
| 4. a) | What would make it obvious that Ollie is English? |
| b) | Why is it important for him to seem “local”? |
As Ollie jumped down onto the gritty platform of the Victoria Falls station, his train ticket fell from his pocket. Printed in large capitals was: O L I V I A S T R A N G E. Olivia! No wonder he’d been put in a compartment with a girl. Whoever issued the ticket wasn’t a very good speller. He snatched up the ticket before Zinzi could see.
The air was hot and steamy with an earthy smell of growing things and something sweet like vanilla ice-cream. Ollie sniffed deeply.
“Frangipani flowers,” Zinzi said.
Women in bright wraps sat under umbrellas on mats piled with pyramids of green mealies, peanuts, oranges, mangoes and watermelons as fat and round as babies. Monkeys kept jumping down from the trees to steal something and the women shooed them away with their umbrellas. Crocheted white tablecloths hung like giant snowflakes from thorn trees.
“Don’t waste time, Ollie!” Zinzi was dragging an old, rusty supermarket trolley across the dust. “Quick-start! Load up our things. Let’s get them to the bus.” She pointed at an ancient-looking vehicle belching smoke. Sweat was pouring off Ollie by the time they’d crammed all the crates and bags into the luggage space under the bus. At least there was a floor between him and the python now.
Zinzi bought some mangoes and a few cooked mealies from a vendor. Ollie stood there looking uncertain. Zinzi gave Ollie a look. “Don’t act English.”
“Why?”
“You’ll be charged the tourists’ entrance into the Rain Forest. Locals get in cheaper.”
Ollie heard a booming and thundering sound and felt tremors running beneath the earth under his feet. Through the trees he saw huge clouds of smoke billowing into the air. Except it wasn’t smoke. It was spray. It hit them full on as they got closer and then surged up into the sky like rain going upwards. A man in a raincoat with a big black umbrella was striding behind them as they ducked under dripping branches towards the roar.
Ollie froze. Through gaps in the spray, was the widest river he’d ever seen. It roared and tumbled in torrents into a chasm of swirling mists beneath his feet. The only thing between him and this huge, bottomless pit was a small wooden railing as frail as a fence made of matchsticks.
His stomach turned a complete somersault.
“See what I mean!” Zinzi bellowed over the roar. “Mosi oa tunya! The smoke that thunders!” She put her hands to her mouth. “Mosi oa tunya … Mosi oa tunya …!” she yelled over the thundering roar of the river.
Ollie shuffled a tiny bit closer to the matchstick fence. The ground was muddy. The height was terrifying. One slip and he’d be over the edge. It was then that he saw the man. He was standing a little way back in his dark raincoat with his umbrella pulled down low.
“He’s following us.”
“Who?”
“That man.” Ollie jerked a thumb in the man’s direction. “He’s giving me the creeps.”
“He’s a tourist, Ollie.”
“He’s not dressed like one. He doesn’t have a camera.”
Zinzi laughed. “Not every tourist wears safari clothes and carries a camera. Don’t be so spooked. Quick-start! Come on!” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s get to the bridge.” They ran along a muddy pathway zigzagging through the dripping trees and triple rainbows of light. Then they were out of the rain forest and into the sunshine on the road to the bridge. A signboard stated:
YOU ARE APPROACHING THE ZAMBEZI BORDER
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