Pafinna's Prophecy

by Gael Whelan

Overview

In an attempt to discover why the mourning dove has changed its call, Tracey and her new friend Jonathan stumble on a bigger problem! Two white lion cubs have been born and are already on a death list. Because of rife superstition, the local people believe that albino animals are portends of death. The children round up a group of adults and set off on an adventure to save the lives of the cubs. Tracey, Jonathan, and the Khoi San brothers work together with an indigenous Australian man and members of the Masawani Game Park team to counter the dire prophecy made by the late Sangoma Pafinna. It is up to all of them to save the tiny lion cubs.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781482876376
Publisher:	Partridge Publishing Africa
Publication date:	10/06/2016
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	96
File size:	4 MB

About the Author

Gael was born in Scotland and went on her first journey, as an infant, from the United Kingdom to Canada on the Queen Mary liner. This was to be the first of many journeys to come. When she was three years old, she moved to Africa with her family. It was here that she learned that Africans referred to a journey as a “safari.” Somehow, the family adopted “safari” for every trip, as it built anticipation for an exciting adventure! The earliest safaris took the family along the strip roads of northern and southern Rhodesia (now Zambia and Zimbabwe) where there were many close encounters with wild elephants, buck, birds, crocodiles, rhinos, and people! To this day, every member of Gael’s family continue to call their trips “safaris.” It was on one of these safaris to Mana Pools that Gael introduced her young children and their cousins to the characters of the Masawani Game Park, to entertain them on their safari. The children enjoyed the stories immensely, especially when their ideas were woven into the tale and time seemed to stand still. Gael’s sister, Lexie, thankful for both the peace and quiet of the distracted children and the memories the stories evoked, insisted that they be recorded! Well, here they are. It is the author’s hope that everyone who reads her stories will develop a curiosity and a respect for life and nature in other countries.

Read an Excerpt

Pafinna's Prophecy

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By Gael Whelan, Yvonne Abuda

Partridge Africa

Copyright © 2016 Gael Whelan
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4828-7636-9

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CHAPTER 1

Tracey looked out over the Etosha Pan, the heat shimmering over the few remaining puddles of water in the rapidly dehydrating pan. Mother flamingoes covered the chicks with their large beautiful black-tipped pink wings, trying to cool them from the relentless heat. If it did not rain soon, the chicks would die. They were still too young to fly, and the pools were not big enough to sustain the life of the shrimp, which the birds needed to survive.

Tracey sighed. She had really been looking forward to showing her new friend, Jonathan White, just how beautiful the pan looked in the spring after the first rains, and just how awesome the flocks of pink flamingoes were. Right now, the chicks were little balls of pink fluff with big, gaping mouths, which were always waiting for food. The Veroniques lived in Namibia, in the southwest part of the continent of Africa. The village they lived in was very close to the Etosha National Park just a fifteen-minute drive from the Angolan border.

She had been born in Cape Town, South Africa eight years before. Her parents had brought her to live in Namibia two years earlier. Here, she had quickly grown to love the wild countryside. Where she lived, there were wild animals, which often wandered into the village. She had seen spotted hyenas and jackals frequently on the sides of the road. Living on the edge of a park meant that she'd had many opportunities to visit it. The day she had seen the parklands for the first time had proved to be a big surprise. Everything — bushes, trees, tufts of grass — were white in colour.

'Why is everything so white, Mom?' she had asked.

'It's the salt from the Etosha Pan itself,' her mother had explained. 'The wind carries the dry salt across the land and deposits it wherever it wants to. This is also why some sources of information think that the word Etosha means huge, white area, while other sources say that it means place of dry water. Both sources have equally good reason to think that they are correct.'

The end of October had come and gone. This was the time the rains generally began filling the pan with water. It was already the beginning of December now, and the pan was almost entirely dry. The animals were thirsty, and some had made their way to the boreholes, which had been drilled at certain safari camps to drink water. It was fortunate that the water had been found close to the safari camps like Halali because this allowed the tourists to take pictures while the animals drank.

Tracey checked her watch. Only two more hours to wait until Jonathan and his parents, Dan and Mollie, were to arrive with game rangers, Numela Shabalala and Namala Mahani. They were flying in from the game park where Dan White was the warden.

Tracey remembered how she had met Jonathan at a bird exhibit in Botswana. To be precise, it was in front of the kookaburra cage. He had been calling 'Koo koo hurra' like the birds themselves were doing. She stayed out of sight while she watched the young boy. To her astonishment, the three birds in the cage appeared to understand Jonathan's noises. It seemed to her that they were having a conversation.

Finally, she blurted out, 'What are you doing?'

Jonathan blushed and replied sheepishly, 'I'm talking to the kookaburras.'

'I can see that,' Tracey replied tartly. 'But what I don't understand is why they seem to be able to understand you!'

'Well, actually, they can and do understand me,' said Jonathan.

'What makes you so certain that they can?' asked Tracey.

'It's a long story,' replied Jonathan. 'You see, I have the ability to talk telepathically as well as audibly to all animals ever since I learned to speak. On the day I was born, the old sangoma, Kimaro, from the village of Molelo, came to Masawani Game Park and told my parents that I would be able to do this once I learned to talk. By the way, my name is Jonathan White. What's your name?'

Tracey, who was fascinated with the information that Jonathan could talk to animals, almost missed the question. 'Oh, my name is Tracey Véronique, and I'm visiting Botswana. Do you know,' she said. 'I saw a bird outside that wasn't singing its normal song. Could you talk to it?'

'Well, I can try if it's still there,' Jonathan replied.

* * *

Tracey continued to gaze at the Etosha Pan, remembering that day. She seemed to be drifting back in time, to Botswana, as her mind took her back over the events, which had unfolded on that fateful holiday.

The two children had gone outside to see if the bird was still there. She remembered the events as if they were taking place right then.

'There it is,' said Tracey. 'It's the African mourning dove sitting on the branch of that mopane tree over there.'

Jonathan saw the bird and immediately cupped his hands, blowing between the slits that his thumbs made. He began to talk to the dove. 'Good morning, why are you so sad today?' The bird stopped calling and looked around. Not seeing another bird, he started his sad call over again. Jonathan called to the bird again. 'Good morning, beautiful dove. Why are you so sad?' he repeated.

'Who said that?' asked the dove.

'I did,' said Jonathan, who had now changed to communicating telepathically with the bird. 'We've come to see the birds that are visiting from Australia.'

'Who are you?'

'I'm Jonathan White,' he replied. 'I come from the Masawani Game Park.'

'Do you mean the park near the Linyani valley?' asked the dove.

'That's the one,' said Jonathan.

'Then you must be the boy who can speak to all the animals of the bush.' Jonathan nodded his head in agreement.

'Can you tell me why you are so particularly sad today?'

'Yes, I can,' replied the dove. 'Two beautiful white lion cubs have been born this past week, and the local people are threatening to kill them. They feel that the cubs are omens of a great disaster, which will befall the land.'

'Wow, no wonder you're sad. What can I do to help save the lives of the cubs?'

'Perhaps if we had the most famous sangoma in Africa come and tell the people that they're wrong, it would save the cubs' lives.'

'Do you mean Kimaro, the sangoma from Molelo?'

'That is correct,' replied the dove.

'I do know him. The village of Molelo is very near to the Masawani Game Park. His granddaughter, Tembo, is a friend of mine. In fact, I am an honorary member of the Zunu tribe.'

'Then could you ask him to come to Botswana and save the cubs?' asked the dove.

'I can ask him, but only he will know if he can save the cubs.'

'Go and ask him now. There is not much time left before the hiding place of the lioness and the cubs are found, and they will all be killed by people who do not understand the omens.'

'I will speak to my father right away. He will know what to do.'

'What was all that about?' asked Tracey, as she followed Jonathan back to the office.

'I'll explain on the way, I have to find my father right now.' The two children hurried off to find Dan White.

CHAPTER 2

Dan White was busy talking to one of the Australians who had accompanied the bird exhibit over to Africa. They had been discussing the eating habits of emus, which are large, flightless birds found in Australia.

'They seem to have similarities to the ostrich,' Dan was saying.

Jonathan and Tracey burst through the door, and Jonathan said, 'Dad, I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is very important. People are going to kill the white lion cubs an —'

'Slow down, Jonathan, and start at the beginning.'

'Well, because Tracey heard the mourning dove had changed its call this morning, she asked me to find out why —'

'Now hold on, blue,' drawled Tom Stockman, an Aboriginal Australian. 'What do you mean Tracey asked you to find out what a bird was saying? How can you, a boy, do this?'

'It's like this,' replied Dan, and he proceeded to tell Tom about Jonathan's ability to speak to animals.

'I know of two people in my tribe who have the same ability,' said Tom. 'But I have never heard of anyone in Africa being able to do it, especially one who is a white child!'

Dan laughed and said, 'That has been a surprise to all of us. But what is this about white lion cubs?'

'I know about those,' Tom replied. 'Lindy M'pilo told me about them. She said that there was a rumour that two white cubs had been born in the Makgadikgadi Park near the Sua Pan. She also mentioned that she was afraid the cubs would be harmed by people who thought they were omens of bad times to come.'

'I see,' said Dan White. He turned to Tracey and asked, 'Are you Tracey?'

'I am Tracey Veronique.'

'What made you think there was something wrong with the mourning dove's call today?'

'I noticed that it was different to the mourning doves I hear around the Etosha National Park. It's been bothering me all morning. I noticed Jonathan having, what seemed to me, a serious conversation, I asked him if he would speak to the mourning dove. It was the dove which told Jonathan about the cubs.'

Dan turned to Jonathan and said, 'Perhaps you had better tell me the rest of the story, my boy.'

Jonathan quickly repeated what the dove had told him and ended by saying, 'Dad, the dove thinks that Kimaro may be able to convince the Batswana people living in that area that they're wrong about the cubs. But the bird said that there wasn't very much time left to save them. Dad, we have to save them. Please, Dad, please!'

'Let us see what we can do,' replied Dan. He turned to Tom and asked, 'Can we count on your assistance, Tom?'

'Well, I'm not sure what I can do, but you may certainly count on me to do anything that I can to save the cubs.'

'Didn't I hear that you were a type of medicine man in Australia?' Dan asked.

'Ah, yes, I am. But it's not like the stuff that your sangomas practice here. What I am is an elder who is a keeper of the Dreamtime.'

'How can you keep the time of dreams?' Tracey asked.

'It's not that I keep the time of the dreams. Rather, it's an expression that we Australians use to refer to as the time before time.'

'So what you are talking about is the time of creation when the animals and plants and humans came to live on earth.'

'That's right, Jonathan. That's exactly what I mean. However, you may also hear another term that Australians use. This term is called the dreaming, and it refers to the beliefs of different groups of humans or animals. For instance, you might have a dream, which tells us how kangaroos dream about their role in the formation of the Australian landscape. They might dream that they are travelling across the continent of Australia and the kind of effect they have in helping to form the mountains, hills, and rivers of the land.'

'What other duties does an elder of your clan have?' asked Dan.

'It is our duty to educate the young children of the clan about the history and geography of Australia as well as of our people.'

'How do you accomplish this, Tom?' asked Tracey.

'By telling stories!'

'You mean Australian children listen to stories at school, and they don't have to do math and science?' exclaimed Jonathan.

Tom laughed and said, 'No, they have to do those as well. But now, I think that it is time for us to help the white cubs.'

CHAPTER 3

Makgadikgadi Game Park

The lioness sniffed the air then wrinkled her nose. There is a human out there, she thought. She growled very softly, warning the cubs to remain as quiet as possible. The cubs, now almost eight days old, had not opened their eyes yet, but they had learned to read the directions that their mother conveyed to them. For instance, when she tensed the muscles in her body and slowed her breathing down until they thought that she would never take another breath again, they knew that there was danger afoot. It was times like these that they had learned to lie absolutely motionless, so that the unseen enemy would not be able to tell where they were hidden.

The lioness and her cubs were in a small cave under a rocky outcrop near the top of a fairly high hill — fairly high for this area of Botswana. The area around the pan was mostly flat. She had chosen the cave to give birth to her cubs in for three reasons. Firstly, it was close to the grazing lands of impala and waterbuck on which she would be able to feed. Secondly, it was reasonably close to Sua Pan where she would be able to slake her thirst for water at the beginning and end of each day. The third reason, and probably the most important reason in her mind, was although the cave was not very big, it stretched deep into the back of the hill. The back of the cave was hidden by a piece of rock, which jutted out hiding the area where the cubs were.

Although as nature would have it, the cubs had not actually been born in the cave, she'd had to bring them there after they were born. It was here that she had scratched out a shallow hollow in the ground. This was where the cubs slept each time she left the cave. She raised her head and sniffed. This time, the scent of the human was closer. She gave a low growl again and rose to her feet. She padded forward to the mouth of the cave, leaving her twins in the hollow behind the rocky wall. She approached the opening to the cave cautiously and sniffed again. A rumble of small pebbles rolling down the hill greeted her ears. She crouched down as low as she could, ready to spring should the need arise. Her ears rotated from side to side, as she attempted to figure out which side of the cave the man was approaching from. Her tail flicked up and down ominously. She waited for the noise to come again.

Fifty feet outside the cave, a small, brown man stopped to listen. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up, and his skin prickled all over his body. He was in danger, and he wasn't sure where the danger was coming from. He looked up at the rise of the hill again, his eyes searching for the overhang of rock signifying the entrance to the cave.

His grandfather had told him about this cave when he was a little boy. 'It has a strange fish from the large waters painted on the cave wall. It is the waters, which the white people call the ocean. The story in the painting tells how our ancestors wandered by the shore of this great ocean, and then one of them was swept into it as he stood on the rocks. He could not swim and was beginning to drown when this fish, it was bigger than me, came up underneath him and carried the boy onto the rocks again. The boy was saved, and when he and his family found their way to this cave, he painted the story, so that the gods of this great fish might know that he was forever grateful that he had been saved.'

Qoqo (pronounced Koko) had always loved the story about the big fish, and it was not until he had actually been down to the aquarium in Port Elizabeth in South Africa that he realiszed that the fish was actually a dolphin. These creatures had a long history of saving swimmers in distress.

Qoqo sniffed the air in the same manner the lioness had. There is a lioness here! he thought. She must have cubs if she is in the cave. It is unusual for her to hide them. I wonder why she feels that they are in more danger than usual. With this thought in mind, he very carefully started to retrace his footsteps down the hill. It is a pity, he thought. That I could not see my ancestors' paintings on the rocks today. But it is also important not to anger the mother of those cubs. I must be very careful.

Qoqo is a member of the Khoisan, or river Bushmen. His ancestors roamed the Kalahari Desert for centuries before the coming of the white man. They had been hunters and gatherers following the herds of eland, gemsbok, dik-dik, and other animals, which provided the meat they needed in order to survive. The animal skins did not go to waste either. They were used to keep the Khoi San warm in the cold, dry season.

Halfway down the hill, Qoqo stopped to take a drink of water from the large ostrich egg hanging in the sling on his shoulder. The San had become very adept at stealing eggs from the wild ostriches living in the desert. Once the San had eaten the contents of the uncooked egg, which had been carefully sucked out through a small hole in the top of the egg, they filled the egg with water, fashioned a plug out of an old root, and then buried the egg. This meant that they would have a source of water in the summer months when there was little water left in the pans or rivers.

He drank quickly. Feeling refreshed, he continued on his journey down to the bottom of the hill. He decided to make his way to the lodge at Sua and see if his brother was still working as a tracker for one of the safari companies. It was his brother's duty to follow the spoor of animals that visit the pan for water every morning and evening. His brother would track the animals to their grazing grounds when they had finished drinking water. Tourists could then be taken to see where the animals were feeding.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Pafinna's Prophecy by Gael Whelan, Yvonne Abuda. Copyright © 2016 Gael Whelan. Excerpted by permission of Partridge Africa.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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