The Elephant Buttons
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I was told to fear You-know-Who. To this day, even though I am a grown man, I am scared of him. said Frans. I never mention his real name!
I dont mind my Mothers Welsh faeries, added Rene, but the Spriggans are different. They tease me whenever I step out into the garden.
If believing is seeing, thought Polly, who felt sorry for her aunt, Ill find You-know-Who and ask him to chase the Spriggans right out of Renes life!
This is a charming story from Africa that brings to mind many distant feelings, recollections, and memories. It is well written with believable child appeal. - RJMD
Margaret Oatley
Margaret Oatley started married life in an African Game Reserve where hippos and rhinos grazed lawns and shrubberies. She knows that read-aloud stories engender happy memories for parent and child. Her mongoose adventure stories (Taffy Tales, 1983) were broadcast on a children’s radio program and adapted for school plays.
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The Elephant Buttons - Margaret Oatley
Copyright © 2015 by Margaret Oatley.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
www.partridgepublishing.com/africa
Contents
The Spriggans
DAY ONE
The Elephant Buttons
DAY TWO
You-Know-Who
DAY THREE
Booka
DAY FOUR
The Trap
DAY FIVE
Mine Goblins
DAY SIX
The Chicken Thieves
DAY SEVEN
Going Home
DAY EIGHT
Dedication
This story is for my three very dear brothers, Robin, Terry Myles and Frank Dutton.
The Spriggans
DAY ONE
723728%20cottage%20image.JPGMy Granny Nor sent me a letter. In it she wrote; Would you like to visit us for a few days?
Daddy drove me to the farm. Knowing he was about to leave me there, I felt sad and happy at the same time. I had never been to the farm before, or stayed with my aunt Irene and Nor. I was sad knowing that my Daddy would leave after a cup of tea, but happy to face a new adventure.
I stood under the Jacaranda tree waving goodbye to my Daddy until I could see him no more. A little lost feeling came over me as I turned toward the cottage and skipped one, two and three towards its front door.
Oops! My foot snagged on the skipping rope and as I stood untangling it, I heard Nor say to Rene, Why don’t you and Polly go for a walk? Take the path that runs along the contour of the hill. I’ll pack you a picnic.
Dropping the skipping rope at the door, I stepped towards Nor who looked a little anxious. I glanced up at Rene.
She didn’t like the idea and said, I can’t do that, Mother. You know I don’t like walking outside!
Please Rene, do it for Polly. Little girls love picnics, and she is here for just a week. I will pack some incense sticks for you to light at your picnic site. The Spriggans might not like their lavender scent and will stay away from you.
What are Spriggans? I wondered. Were they some kind of animal? I knew that all sorts of creatures roamed the land around the farm. Daddy had spoken about them often.
I will try,
sighed Rene bravely.
Nor smiled at her daughter, took my hand and guided me towards the kitchen. We must make sandwiches before Rene changes her mind
she said.
Go find two apples, Polly. And pack them into that basket. You will find a tin of cinnamon biscuits in that cupboard.
Oh, yummy,
I said. Your biscuits are the very best, Nor.
Before Rene could think of a reason why she shouldn’t leave the cottage, Nor thrust the picnic basket into her hands. Now, off the two of you go, and don’t forget your hats.
We set off along the driveway in grand style, for I was wearing one of Nor’s gardening hats. It had silk roses around its crown.
I wondered just how far we would walk, for I could see that Rene was nervous. She was gripping the handle of the picnic basket so tight that her knuckles showed white. Her fear made me feel really scared and we both froze when we heard footsteps behind us. Before we dared to look around we heard a cheerful woof
and knew that Guest, the little dog was running behind us.
I want to join you,
she yipped.
Don’t forget about me,
yowled Mommy-meeow the cat.
Nor me,
squealed Poke, the pink pig. I knew the three animals would give Rene courage for I felt a lot braver myself.
Guest, the little dog led us off the driveway and onto a narrow path on which we had to walk one behind the other. All went well until Guest stopped to sniff the air. A strange scent had passed her way, the kind that made the hair along her back stand up.
Rene knew that Guest’s raised ruff was a warning sign. She dropped the picnic basket. It toppled over onto its side and the two apples rolled out onto the path. Poke pushed past both of us, grabbed an apple and gobbled it up. I was about to rescue the other apple when Rene stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder.
Shh,
she whispered. Don’t move!
What is it, Aunty Rene?
Guest has picked up the scent of a Spriggan and I don’t know where it is.
There was that name again. What is a Spriggan?
Rene didn’t answer. She was shivering so much that I grasped her hand and pulled her back towards a flat, rocky ledge jutting out from the hill. It made a perfect seat for her to sit upon.
I thought of lighting one of the incense sticks. Perhaps the lavender scent would calm my aunt. But, the box still lay in the picnic basket where Rene had dropped it. I crawled back on my hands and knees to fetch it. The little pig followed me. We reached the basket at the same time. Poke tried to stick her nose into it to grab the sandwiches, but I managed to push her away. Just before I started crawling back to Rene, I glanced up at Guest who still stood dead still ahead of us. Rene was right. Something was there! I began to feel really, very scared. I backed down the path quickly, making my way towards Rene who grabbed the basket from me.
Where are the incense sticks?
she whispered as she rummaged between the sandwiches and biscuits. Did we pack the matches Polly? Ahh! Here they are!
Rene’s hands trembled so much that she couldn’t pull the stick of incense out from its box, and when Guest gave a string of shrill little yips, she dropped it. My own hands shook as I picked the box up, pulled an incense stick out and set it into a crack on the edge of the ledge.
Rene handed me the box of matches, You light the incense, Polly while I watch Guest. I am sure she can smell a Spriggan. If I am right, it will show itself. If I say RUN, drop everything and follow me.
I asked her again what a Spriggan was. My aunt didn’t answer, but stood biting her nails frantically. I turned to my task again, sliding the matchbox cover back, to pick out a match. I knew I had to light the incense quickly. I struck the match against the box and it flared so suddenly that I dropped it into the tussock of dry grass growing at my feet.
Quick as a wink that little flame grew into a fire. Rene jumped up, pushed me away, dropped her hat over the flames, then stamped on it to smother the fire.
I stood staring at her, seeing my aunt differently. For Rene had changed from a nervous person to a quick-thinking one.
Without a word, she picked up her hat, flicked the bits of burnt grass from its brim and put it back onto her head. Its charred rim still smoked a bit, but Rene’s eyes sparkled brightly.
Oh Polly,
she laughed. I think I must look rather odd, for I have ruined my hat!
Rene’s hat did look funny for it had lost its shape and flopped