Chameleon Mountain - The Forbidden Love that Started a Dynasty

By Peter Cleary

Chameleon Mountain follows the fortunes of several generations of the Baartman family from the mid-18th century into the 20th century. It is a unique family, formed from the genes of a Khoikhoi woman and a Dutch settler.
The characters are as intriguing as the Swartberg Mountains which foster them. Ahad, the courageous shepherdess from whose loins came the first of the Baartman’s. Benji 80-years later, a man of temper and passion who settles in Die Hel, and Dan his son, who leaves the valley to find his fortune, a journey which takes him to the new diamond fields in Kimberley, to the House of Assembly in Cape Town and finally into the Second Anglo-Boer War.
Interacting with them are a rich cast of supporting actors; !Ka the brave Khoikhoi clan leader, Isaac, wise and selfless, the first of the Baartman’s, Tess, pretty daughter of a klower, Caroline, beautiful and fey and Josie, who has the wit and resolve to survive the British concentration camps.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Cleary Books
• Release date: Jun 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9780994711939

Book preview

Chameleon Mountain - The Forbidden Love that Started a Dynasty

Chameleon Mountain

The Forbidden Love that Started a Dynasty

- The Story of a Mixed-blood South African Family -

Foreword

You come down the dirt road from Kruidfontein, heading south through the Great Karoo, flat desert country, monotonous and achingly beautiful. Eventually a line of mountains appears on the horizon, right across from east to west, no apparent breaks, blocking your way to the sea.

The mountain range grows, becomes huge. Black mountains, Swartberg, and that is what they are named. When you get closer you see the white buildings of a hamlet, Prince Albert, nestling against the foothills.

Behind the town is a low ridge and then the true foothills, themselves imposing structures. Look west and two strange humpback mountains appear. They seem like two dolphins breasting the sea, line astern, and the rock formation that tops one of them looks strangely familiar: a head, a spine and tail, legs.

In a restaurant we ask the owner what that strange mountain is called.

Chameleon Mountain. What an evocative name, the animate with the inanimate.

It is two years since my wife and I went to Prince Albert to research the ending to my novel The Khami River Legacy. In the first draft of the book Adam Geard comes to this place and searches for a home. He walks the district and eventually tops a rise and looks down at the jumble of broken country leading to Gamkapoort and there he sees what he wants, in the valley below the Chameleon Mountain.

Forty pages wasted, some of them written in the sitting room of the rooms we hired; written in the early hours of the morning as these words are being written.

I left Adam in Namibia, in the Kaokoveld which he loved so much. It was a more fitting ending.

Perhaps the words were not wasted because I have come back, drawn by the beauty of the place and the evocative name. I want to write a story centred in this place and I want to name the story Chameleon Mountain.

Mtunzini

25 August 2017

AHAD  |  Chapter One: 1754

He saw where the rhebok went to ground in a thick acacia stand. How best to get close? he thought, surveying the possible routes. The wind was behind his back blowing softly down the valley and he would have to get out of the valley and come back in below her. She would have his scent now and would wonder where he was when it went. He imagined her in the thicket, her nose quivering, panting from the dash across the scree slope to get into the shelter.

To the right up on to the shoulder of Chameleon Mountain was the best, he decided, and moved straightaway. A hunter does not spend time thinking about these things.

He crossed the stream, jumping from boulder to boulder, and made his way cautiously up a gully to the top of the cliff hanging over the water. She could not see or hear him now and he moved rapidly downstream until he thought he was far enough to come back into the valley downwind of her.

Now he would have to be really careful, move slowly and watch every step he took to make no noise. Time was not an issue for him; he could devote the rest of the day to this pursuit and judge it time well spent if he killed her.

His wife was in the birthhouse now, his wife and their new daughter, born just yesterday. The two of them would be safe from harm in the hut, no men to bring them disease, only a little clean water and goat’s milk for the baby. He would not see them for another six days but he was content because they were safe.

And he was happy because it gave him time to do this hunting. He did little hunting nowadays, too busy with his headman chores and his worry about the Onaqua tribe across the mountain and whether they would raid again.

He cleared his head of all these distractions and concentrated on the kill. He moved with the grace of an animal, flowing from one step to the next, his squat powerful body bent low.

It must be close now. She would be in that thicket just yonder, unless she had moved while he was out of sight above the cliff. He could get close if he went just over there and stayed out of sight below the bank. Yes, that was the way; that would give him a close shot.  He needed that, because his arrow did not carry poison like his San brothers, his bow and arrow was thicker, stronger, could pierce to the heart of the rhebok if close enough.

He came out of the riverbed, slithering up in a crawl where a path had been worn by animals coming to drink. He was one with nature, just he and the rhebok and this soil and the grass and trees and the blue vault above them.

Now he could see a small part of her, the rump, visible through the many branches which separated them. He came to his knees, notched the arrow and moved sideways, slowly, as slow as the reptile that gave its name to the mountain above him.

Yes, he had the shot.  He could see the shoulder and the part where the heart lay. His arrow would have to fly true through the many snags which lay between them but he had confidence in his ability, pulled the arrow to his cheek, stilled his breath and released.

The rhebok burst from cover, squealing, the sudden noise an assault on the peace of the valley. She ran upstream and he ran behind her, sure of his shot, sure she would run until the life wish died in her.

She had run her last to a small clearing. When the Khoikhoi man reached her the tongue was out and the last shuddering breath blew dust, the eyes already losing their shine. He thought with pleasure of the reception he would receive when he walked into the village with this prize on his shoulders.

Mezi stared at the scrunched face of her daughter and saw only beauty. The child was sleeping now and she had the time to look at her deeply, studying everything, putting it all to her memory, knowing that this time with her first child was most likely the best time of her life.

A voice called beyond the mat which hung over the opening to the conical hut. It was a sister. They called one another that, the three women married to the headman.

I’m coming in, sister.

Come quietly, the child is asleep.

The woman entered, stooping low to clear the opening. She was much older than Mezi, maybe in her twentieth summer, a mother already of five children, four of them still alive. She brought a fresh gourd of milk and some veldkos, wild plant foods.

Is there no water?

We must be careful with water, young sister, it carries diseases. Drink the goat’s milk. It has passed through the animal so it is pure.

Yes, I will obey your good advice. Tell me again when I can give the child my own milk?

"You must wait until the third full moon. By then the child will be strong and will not die if you have any impurities in your milk.

Are you pushing out your milk?

Mezi nodded.

That is good.

She chuckled.

We woman know how to fool our bodies so that we keep on making the milk.  You should try to also sleep while the child is asleep. The birth makes us very weak and we must grow strong quickly so that we can take up our place. Our husband will be expecting you to lie with him soon after the ceremony.

The sister said this deliberately. She was not unhappy that her husband had taken this young girl as his third wife. She was tired of his sexual stamina and hoped she would bear no more children.

Mezi had taken the pressure off her and besides, this new wife had a very pleasant disposition and was happy and respectful. On top of all that, the marriage had been necessary to avoid war with the Onaquas.

Is all well with the child?

Yes, I think so. But I am worried that her stools are black and hard. Is that what I should worry about?

That is the goat’s milk, sister. It is very rich but the child will get used to it. You need not worry unless it continues to the third night. If it continues we will try the milk of the cow.

What news of the village, sister?

Our husband is a mighty hunter. He killed a rhebok female and there will be meat tonight.

How I wish I could eat that meat.

You cannot, sister. If that meat has a disease it could affect you and the child. You must have patience.

I know and I want this protection for my child.

Have you a name for the child yet? I will not tell the others until the ceremony.

I thought to name her Ahad. After my mother.

That is a good name and it is good to remember our mothers. I will be going now and I will bring you food in the morning and take away that which you do not want.

I, Mezi thank you.  You are very kind to your young sister.

For hours she had listened to the noises of the feast and the dancing. Twice during the feast the baby had woken and taken milk, sucking with desperation on the teat fashioned from the soft belly skin of a sheep.

It was quiet now and hot in the hut. She propped the mat door open so that the cool night spring air could enter. Through the opening she could see the stars and the black bulk of the mountain. It was much quieter in this new village in her life.

Where she came from, in the tribe of the Onaquas over the mountain, there were seven or eight clans and many dogs and sheep and cows as numerous as the stars. In that village it was never quiet; here there was scarcely a noise once all the people were asleep. She liked it here.

As she always did when alone she thought back to the courtship period with her husband. It gave her pleasure to remember all of the little things that had happened during that exciting time and she brought the memory back often, relishing it.

The first time she saw him he had come to the tribal council of the Onaqua and he was very angry. All the people saw the anger and they were afraid of him because although he was the headman of only a small clan, living in the valley behind the Chameleon Mountain, yet he was also known as a strong and reckless man who would fight to the death. And that was why they were afraid. They could defeat him with their superior numbers but how many would die in the battle?

He came because his clan had been raided again and a herdboy killed and some cattle stolen. He came seeking compensation. This was the way:  negotiation first and then war if there was no resolution.

Mezi saw the strength in the man:  the broad shoulders and huge chest, the bulging muscles of the upper arms and thighs. Yet despite the strength he moved like a ghost over the ground, treading lightly, the power in him a menace disguised with oily movement.

He was not old like her father, the chief of all this tribe. He was maybe thirty summers. She liked his open face. It was not a suspicious face like many older men of her tribe, and it made her feel she could trust him. She even saw him smile although he was angry and that made her feel he could forgive a person and not bear grudges.

What is this man !Ka like mother?

The two of them were sitting in the shade of a small tree not far from where the men sat in council.

He is a very strong man, daughter. You can see the strength in the man. They also say he is very clever and a good headman, that he will listen carefully before making a decision and that he does not have those he considers as favourites.

Hau!  That makes him quite a man.

Yes, he is quite a man.

Would he be a good man to make children with?

Her mother gave her a sharp look.

Where does this thought come from, daughter?

I was just thinking, mother.

The older woman chuckled. She had often wondered what it would be like to lie with !Ka. In her fantasies he was a powerful lover who would transport her to ecstasies only dreamed of.

You were not just thinking, you were imagining. There is a difference. Just thinking is a thing of dust. Just imagining is a thing of water. Do you know the difference, daughter?

Yes, mother. This imagining can make changes in your body so that you breathe faster and you can get wet on your face and in other places.

Her mother was highly amused at the honesty of her daughter and the titillating discussion.

Are you wet in that place, daughter?

The two women clutched each other and laughed like naughty children, laughed so loud that they caught the attention of the men at the council who paused in their discussions and watched the display.

Mezi derived great enjoyment from remembering that conversation with her mother. If only they had known!

The recompense !Ka was negotiating was her. Her and compensation for some stolen cattle for sure, but mostly he wanted her. She knew one of the reasons he wanted her was to forge an alliance with her father but she also knew in her female wisdom that he wanted her as a lover.

It was very flattering that this man desired by many women in her tribe, even her mother, would want her as his own woman, to lie with and make children.

Her mother brought her the news.

My child, you are to be the wife of !Ka.

Mezi was astonished. How could this be? Her emotions jumped from fright to joy and settled on confusion.

What does this mean?

That you will be a wife to a headman. To !Ka. It is a joy, child. Be joyful, the moon has shone on you.

But why, mother? How did this happen?

So many questions, daughter. Be calm and I will explain.  Your father and !Ka have made an agreement. In compensation for the raid on !Ka’s clan and the killing of a herdboy you are to be given in marriage to !Ka without him having to pay the bride price.

Mezi picked up only on the humiliation of having no bride price.

That is a grave insult.

No, child, it is not. We stole many cattle from the clan of !Ka and so the bride price is already paid.

That calmed Mezi and she started to think coherently about what the future held and to see some of the positive aspects. She would have the time to get to know the headman because custom demanded he come to stay with her family until the birth of a child. But how could a headman afford to be away from his clan for this time?

He will have to come and live with us, mother?

No, daughter, he cannot for he is a headman and has his duty to his clan. He will be with us for only five nights. You and he will have your own hut for the five nights and then you must go with him to his village on the other side of the Chameleon Mountain.

When will this be, mother?

The day following tomorrow.

No, that can’t be! How can I be ready so soon?

Hush, child. What do you need to get ready? We will make ready a hut for you. All you have to do is prepare yourself for him.

That was precisely what was giving her heart tremors.

He came to talk to her for the first time the next morning.

You know we are to be wed, girl?

He had a deep voice and he looked directly into her eyes and she liked him even more up close.

Yes, sire.

You don’t need to address me thus, girl.

I do so because you are the head of your clan and you will be my husband.

That is good. I like that. Tell me, Mezi, are you happy that we are to be wed?

Yes, sire, I am. But I am still very young and I ask you to help me with what will happen between us.

He laughed at her naїvete, delighted to find in her an obedient and willing partner.

Let us walk out to the veld, girl, where we can talk without the ears of this whole tribe listening.

She wondered if he was going to lie with her as soon as they were out of sight and found herself out of breath at the prospect. But it did not happen that day. He talked about his clan and about the valley they lived in on the other side of the mountain and she realised he was preparing her for her new life and was grateful.

The much-anticipated event happened in their assigned hut on the next night after the ceremony of marriage.

You’ve not done this before have you, Mezi?

Oh no, husband.

It was the first time she had said that word aloud and it made her proud.

I will show you.

He arranged her on the mat so that they were lying on their sides facing each other and his hands started touching her, moving over her body and between her legs, stroking and squeezing softly and it was ecstasy.

You can touch me too, wife.

She did and it was as hard as the hardest rock on the mountain and soon she wanted it inside her, and her desire was seen by him and he was gentle that first time.

The memory of that first moment made it even hotter in the hut. All was quiet in the village. She rose and went outside, leaving the sleeping child behind.

The bright stars in the clear night cast a silver luminosity over the huts of the village and she could see the open spaces clearly. A few of the dogs saw her and came to join her, smelling the new smells on her legs. The bonfire they had made for the feast still showed dull red points and she stirred them with a stick to see the colour and the flash of the sparks.

What a lovely village she lived in now, what a wonderful valley. The birth of the child had fulfilled her in this, her twelfth summer, and she was in love with her husband and the entire world.

Soon there would be a feast in her honour, her and Ahad. The feast would proclaim her transformation from girl to mother. The feasts all celebrated growth to a new form of life: birth, puberty, marriage, death.

As if in answer to her mood, a half moon made its first appearance over the mountain to the east. She watched as it rose clear of its earthly bounds, bright yellow as the butter of the cow.

In the enhanced light Mezi made her way to the stream and waded into the cold water and bathed her legs and midriff which still bore the stains of the birth. Unlike many Khoikhoi women, Mezi loved the feel of the water on her body and bathed whenever there was a chance.

This peculiarity of hers was not about hygiene because water was not a strong need in that regard; often the people used mud to rid themselves of parasites.  For Mezi the love of water was about the way it cooled and flowed over her and left her skin smooth after its passing.

On the seventh day after the birth of Ahad the women came to prepare her for the feast.

Mezi was in a fever of excitement at this feast which would mark her transition into motherhood; many of her relatives from over the mountain would be present. She was also heartily sick of being cooped up in the hut. Earlier she had heard the mournful bellowing of the cow being slaughtered in her honour and was sure her husband would have chosen one of his best beasts.

Older sister controlled the process.

Are you and the baby ready, sister?

Oh yes, older sister. Are many of my family here?

Yes, many. Our husband has had to slaughter two beasts to feed everyone.

That is good. We must show those Onaquas how rich we are.

!Ka’s  wives and a younger friend started preparing Mezi. They had brought gourds with a mixture of cow dung, fat and buchu and they ladled this on the body of mother and child. The buchu was seen to give protection. As strong as the smell of this mixture was, it was mild in comparison to the omentum, parts of the cow’s intestine, which was also in the hut and was to be draped over the shoulders of Mezi and her child.

When all was ready, older sister lifted the mat at the door and signalled for the ceremony to begin.

Mezi ducked under the door then stood proudly outside, her child held to her chest, greeted by the ululating of women and shouts of men. It seemed there was a whole tribe to welcome her and her heart swelled with the moment.

Before her in an opening among the crowd stood her husband. She had not seen him for seven nights and her eyes delighted in his manly bearing. As was the custom she made her way slowly towards him, taking two steps forward and one back to signify her transition, glad to be moving on but still rooted to the past.

Eventually she stood before him.

!Ka laid his hand on her head.

Welcome, wife and mother.

The assembled throng echoed the greeting, shouting the words.

He took the child and held it high.

Welcome into the world of the people, child.

Again the greeting was echoed enthusiastically.

!Ka spoke quietly to Mezi.

What is the name of this child, wife?

It is Ahad, husband.

That is a good name. That is your mother’s name.

He announced to the crowd.

The name of this child who has joined the people is Ahad. Rejoice in the name and wish this child and this woman a bountiful life.

It was early in the morning and Mezi was driving her small flock of sheep upstream towards the big red cliffs which flanked the river and marked the limit of the clan’s territory. Those cliffs and the rugged hills on their shoulders blocked the way deeper into the high mountains.

Many were uncomfortable to be in the shadowed valley between the cliffs. They did not like the brooding silence and the way the great height diminished humans and made them feel insignificant.

Mezi loved the place because she could be alone with her child, the sheep safe in the closeted valley as their only exit point was back towards the village.

She returned to her herding post as soon as she had recovered physically. The women in the Khoikhoi clans were responsible for the small animals, sheep and goats, the men for the cattle. Some of the women did not like this chore but to Mezi it was delight, for she had no great need to be in the company of others.

The sheep moved along at their own pace, knowing the direction, their hooves clicking on the flinty ground. Mezi knew them all:  which were the best mothers, which were the stupidest and the laziest and the most likely to get lost. She had Ahad and she had these animals, and their safety and wellbeing was her sole focus.

At the head of the narrow valley between the cliffs there was a waterfall and below it a deep pool where she swam in the midday heat. On this day she would introduce her daughter to the water and make of it a ritual between them.

Chapter Two: 1761-1762

When Ahad was six she nearly died.

The problem was that it rained in the mountains but not in the valley and they did not know what a deluge there had been until it was almost too late. All afternoon there had been tremendous thunder claps as the lightning arced down into the high mountains and the day darkened early.

The wind was like ice piercing the skin and the people brought the animals into the kraal and sought shelter in their conical huts. Ahad was nervous and held on to her mother in the hut. Mezi tried to comfort her but there was also another baby now, after the heartbreak of losing three babies already, and she was desperate not to lose this new child.

In the hut they could hear the hiss and moan of the wind and the hut moved like a live animal, the mats that covered it alternately billowing and flattening against the mesh of poles. Mezi thought the hut could lose its anchoring and she sat near the windward side, holding to one of the larger poles with one hand and trying unsuccessfully to hold the baby and comfort Ahad with the other.

She wished !Ka was with her but after her second child died he had taken a new wife and she was the youngest and least experienced of the wives and needed him the most. He had gone to each of the wives’ huts to inform them of this decision and they all knew he was right, and honoured him for his fairness.

Fate played a hand in saving many of the clan. One of the mats covering Mezi’s hut came loose and flapped with the noise of a drum before ripping free, letting the wind inside and making a sail of it and the whole hut sprang clear of the earth and flew into the air.

Ahad was the first to hear the noise of the river above the keen of the wind. She looked at the noise and saw the flood, already the height of a man above its banks and moving at frightening pace.

Mother, the river! Look at the river!

Mezi clutched the baby to her and started to run for the huts closest to the advancing river.

Run to warn your father, Ahad! Run fast, child!

Ahad did as told, running with her strong legs carrying her into the gale.

She banged on the hut.

Father, father, come quickly! The river is going to kill us!

He was out immediately, looking around, trying to assess the situation.

Run to the others, Ahad, warn them of the river!

!Ka pulled his new young wife and her child from the hut and directed them away from the river to higher ground.

Go, young wife. Go to that little hill yonder. Get the child out of the wind.

It started to rain, the drops flying almost horizontal to the ground, stinging exposed flesh.

The headman decided his priority and ran to the animal kraal. He tore open the gate. With the strength of ten men he tore down part of the pole wall and got behind the terrified animals and smacked them on their rumps, forcing them into the open. The goats were the quickest to react, running for high ground. He had no doubt they would survive, as would most of the cattle, but the sheep would be the biggest victims as they milled in their panic.

By the time he had done his best for the animals the river was in full flood. He saw that it was already tugging at the closest huts and that one hut had been torn loose and was spinning in the current.

Ahad ran from hut to hut giving the alarm. She saw her mother doing the same, holding tight to her baby and banging on the huts with her free hand. With the danger now seen, Ahad was no longer afraid and her strong young body, honed by years of sheep herding, kept at the task.

She heard a cry of despair from her mother and only then noticed that the flood was already at her knees.

Mezi had slipped and was floundering in the water trying to regain her feet and hold on to her baby at the same time. There was nobody nearby to help her.

I’m coming, mother!

Her mother was downriver of her and she saw that she might get to her too late, so she launched herself into the flood and used the speed of the water to be at her mother’s side in seconds. With the help of her daughter, Mezi regained her feet and the two of them started to work against the current to escape to higher ground.

The tug of the current was unrelenting, and Mezi looked fearfully at the dangerous flotsam passing them at high speed and she looked with greater fear at the cliff downstream of them where the water was thundering as it narrowed and dashed against the cliff; if they were caught in that maelstrom there would be no escape.

Don’t look, mother! Don’t look at the cliff! Look at that hill there, mother! Look at it!

Ahad’s commands calmed her and she focused on getting to high ground, ignoring the dangers downstream. Even in her panic for the safety of the baby she recognised the amazing strength of will of her older child. This was the strength of the father, she realised.

It was a miserable group that huddled in the lee of the small hillock above the site of the village. They were without adequate shelter in the middle of a mid-winter cold front and there was a grave danger that those who had escaped drowning could die of hypothermia. Darkness would be upon them within an hour.

!Ka stood on the crest of the hill trying to assess the damage to his clan, squinting into the driving rain. The village was totally immersed in the raging flood waters. Nothing could be seen of huts or animal pens. There was no point in going down to see if he could salvage anything and there was also no point in trying to help the animals; those that survived were better equipped to last the night than the people.

His decisions now would be crucial to the survival of the clan. There was no dry wood on this hillock or in the gullys in the cliff face below the village. Without fire some would die. He turned his eyes to the eastern flank of Chameleon Mountain. There were caves up there and he remembered that his father had made provision by stocking them with wood. Would it still be there?

It would be a terrible journey across the face of the mountain in the full force of the freezing rain and wind. It was not a decision really – the young children and older people would die if they did not go.

He moved back to the lee and asked the people to gather close.

We are going to the caves on the mountain.

There was no dissent, that was their way.

The babies who cannot walk must stay with their mothers. Men must take two children each who are under five summers and must protect them. It will be dark before we reach the caves and you must walk so that you can touch the one in front. If anyone falls behind we cannot help you. We go now. I will take the lead.

Ahad stuck close to her mother, walking on the windward side to give further protection to the baby. She knew her mother’s feeling for this baby brother and felt no jealousy as she had lived through her mother’s anguish with the loss of three children, two of whom had carried to term and died in childbirth.

The climb was steep but not too much of a challenge to the young girl. More dangerous was the cold. They were wearing their winter smocks made of sheep’s hide which covered their torsos and upper arms, but their legs were bare and they wore no shoes. The smocks were wet but they trapped the water against their bodies and the water was warmed by their bodies.

Mezi had the baby inside her smock pressed to her breasts. Her main worry was that she had only one arm free to break her fall should she slip on the wet rocks and she concentrated hard on her footsteps, surveying each steep area to find the right place to climb.

When they were more than half way up the mountain the rain stopped but the cold wind continued to blow against their wet legs and faces, and it remained miserable.

!Ka passed them several times going up and down to help those struggling, despite his warning earlier that he would not help. Ahad called cheerfully to him each time, her voice thin in the wind, and he was grateful for her spirit and smiled his special smile for her.

The headman had sent two of the stronger men ahead to survey the caves and choose the most suitable, and to make fires if there was wood. The firemaking would take time using flint stones to spark kindling. Now he could see that they had been successful as an orange glow became visible in the dark above them.

As he passed each struggling group !Ka called their attention to the welcoming sight ahead of them and the people were greatly encouraged.

Soon the front of the column reached the cave and !Ka went to the back to help the stragglers, mostly old men and women, and finally he had all the climbers inside the spacious cave, warming themselves before the huge fire his men had made. His satisfaction was great but his work was not finished; he needed to make an inventory of the survivors.

The results saddened him. Two in every ten people in his clan were missing: four children, three women and an old man. The man and one of the women were old and no loss; this harsh judgment came to him in terms of a leader assessing his capability. Three of the children missing were from one family and their mother was also gone; he wondered if they had been in the hut he saw spinning down towards the cliff.

There was nothing they could do until morning.  He would sleep now to build stamina for the hard day to come.

The day dawned cold and calm. !Ka was one of the first to leave the cave. He went first to