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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE |
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04-02-04 (p8-6m) |
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African Adventure By Brian & Jean Smith |
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Synopsis
African Adventure is a short adventure story (9 chapters) set in West Africa, intended for the 8-10 age group. Twins, a boy and a girl aged twelve, become separated from their parents during the recent civil war in Liberia and travel across the country in search of them. During their journey, which is accurately recorded on a map, Bob and Joanna have confrontations with a snake, crocodiles, a leopard, apes, as well as diamond smugglers, a native doctor and a dreaded “Stilt Man.” A lively Liberian girl of similar age joins them in their quest and they are frequently helped by local people with whom they occasionally stay, learning about their lives and their culture. But who is the sinister army officer apparently intent upon tracking them down and from whom they repeatedly manage to escape? His presence is not explained until the end of the book, which ends on a note of suspense. However, the book is not about the civil war itself, with which the children are never physically involved, but about their resourcefulness in difficult and sometimes dangerous situations. There is humour, excitement, as well as a little sadness in their tale, and all three children mature emotionally as their journey progresses. Today, Liberia is still an underdeveloped country with some unexplored forest areas, so there is scope for adventure and encounters with the unexpected. Although the story is fiction, its background details are authentic as the authors lived in Liberia for eight years and acquired a considerable knowledge of the country and the culture of the Liberian people.
Chapter 2 The river curved where Joanne and Bob had joined it in their canoe, but once around the bend it widened into a flat, almost pond-like surface and the current was much less strong. For a while the canoe drifted, needing only the occasional stroke from Joanne to keep them heading in the right direction. The jungle overhung the river on either side in a dark mass and from time to time, the children could smell charcoal and hear voices and knew they were passing a village. Otherwise there was an eerie silence only interrupted by the splash of the paddle or the occasional ‘plop’ of a fish as it came to the surface. “The moon II be up soon, Jo. We’ll have to be careful then.” “What’s that?” A faint noise reached them out of the darkness and for a time the children strained their ears, unable to decide what it was. It became stronger, a regular rhythm - phut-phut, phut-phut. Joanne recognised it first. “It’s a boat. Quick! Get to the side!” The children turned the canoe and paddled as hard as they could for the cover of the trees at the edge of the river, where they crouched in the bottom of the canoe, only their heads visible. Now they could see a light in the distance as the boat approached and very soon the voices on board came within earshot. “It has to be soldiers. Only they would have boats now. Keep your head down, Jo.” Joanne and Bob lay in silence as the boat passed them and disappeared around the bend in the river. Joanne then pushed the canoe away from the bank with her paddle. “We’ll have to keep closer to the side, Bob. There may be more boats about.” Once again they floated downstream as slowly the moon rose and the water, a smooth grey-green during the day, took on an iridescence from its light. “This piece of wood hurts my hands. We’ll have to try to find another paddle, Jo, or something easier to use or I’ll get blisters.” Another bend in the river appeared and the children negotiated it, keeping nearer to the bank in case they had to shelter again. The current now was almost non-existent and Bob and Joanne rested. “This is a lot better than walking!” Bob’s optimism was increasing as CaIdwell compound receded into the distance. “Look!” There’s a really big fish over there.” Joanne pointed to a movement in the water by the bank. A pair of malevolent eyes surveyed them from just above the surface of the water, then a quick thrash of its tail propelled the crocodile towards the canoe. “It’s a croc! Paddle fast! Faster!!” Bob matched action to words. The children paddled furiously but the crocodile’s powerful, agile body surged towards them, the water churning to foam in its wake. “We must get to the bank! If he tips us into the river we’ve had it!” Joanne panted as she plunged her paddle frantically into the water. The children turned the canoe towards the bank and had almost reached it when the crocodile reared its head. Cavernous dripping jaws were only inches away. Almost without thinking, Bob jammed the piece of wood he was holding vertically into the gaping mouth a second before the canoe capsized and the twins fell into the river and swam for their lives. The crocodile, jaws momentarily held wide open by the wood, lashed the water in fury with its tail, while Joanne and Bob scrambled onto the bank and ran. “Keep going!” shouted Bob as they plunged headlong through the trees. “It’ll follow us!” Too frightened to look back, the children ran faster than they had ever run before until, gasping for breath, they reached an open grassy area where they finally stopped. “I - could - almost - feel it - snapping at my heels!” Bob, collapsing onto the ground, could barely speak. “I’ve - got - a - pain -in - my - side. What a brute! I couldn’t have gone any further. I’ve lost my sandal.” Joanne unfastened the remaining sandal. “I can’t walk with only one I’ll be better off without any.” The children lay still for several minutes, oblivious of their wet clothes, their hearts pounding with fear and exhaustion “That’s got to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to us - or anyone.” Bob sat up and looked around. “Hey Jo, this is a garden.” “So it is - and look, there’s a path over there.” “If this is a garden, then there’s a house somewhere. Come on, Jo, let’s follow the path. They might have a phone that works.” “We might be trespassing.” “Joanne Smith! We’ve just been nearly eaten by a croc and you’re worried about trespassing! Come on.” In the bright moonlight they had no difficulty in following the path which led them through an area of cultivation unusual in Liberia. The patch of grass on which they had found themselves was followed by a flower garden shaded by frangi-pani trees whose white flowers glistened in the silvery light. Then they passed through a shrubbery which led to a terraced area, alongside which was a small, white painted structure. Ahead of them loomed an impressively large two-story wooden house. There were no lights, no signs of life. Bob shivered. “I wish we had some dry clothes. I wonder who lives here.” “Someone important. It could be empty though. The owners may have left because of the fighting. I’m so tired. Can’t we find somewhere to shelter - at least for tonight.” Joanne slowly pushed open the door of the small white hut. The door creaked. The interior smelled damp but when their eyes adjusted to the darkness the children saw there were several cane loungers and a small table. Moonlight filtered in through the dust on the window revealing a cupboard in a corner. Afraid to take off their clothes in case they were disturbed and had to leave in a hurry, Joanne and Bob each curled up in a lounger and despite their discomfort were soon asleep. |