We
had come into sight of the river and were now following it as it
meandered over a very wide, stony bed. Soon we came to the pretty town
of Barkly West, identifiable for miles off because of its tall Dutch
Reformed Church tower. It was a much more elaborate structure than most
South African churches. They are usually made of stucco, but this was
of rocks that had been carefully selected to give a variegated
pudding-stone effect and equally carefully cut and fitted. Mr. Van der
Westhuizen began talking about diamond dealers, who according to him
were a different type of man altogether from diggers. Dealers knew how
to hold on to their money, he said, and there was no denying they got
more out of the business of digging in the first place. Diggers were
notoriously easygoing and didn't know how to drive a bargain, but
buyers were different. They had to be. As we rolled past the local
hotel he suddenly stepped on the brake and called out in welcome to a
big, pink-faced man in shirt sleeves who was walking by, carrying a
leather box like a fat brief case or a small suitcase.
"Just
the man I wanted you to meet," he said to me cheerfully as we got out
of the car. "This is one of the biggest dealers in the district. "-
We
all went into the hotel for a cool beer, and the dealer asked us where
we'd been sight-seeing. We told him: Nooitgedacht and Gong Gong. He
remarked that there was absolutely nothing going on at Gong Gong, and
asked for the latest reports on Nooitgedacht. "I haven't been around
there lately," he said.
"Well,
we heard talk; somebody's supposed to have got hold of something," said
Mr. Van der Westhuizen, rather to my interested surprise, for I had
heard nothing of it. "You know how
