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'Are you there, Dad? Are you there?' I shouted. 'It's Danny!'
I stood still, listening, listening, listening, and in the silence that followed, I heard or thought I heard the faint, but oh so faint, sound of a human voice.
I froze and kept listening.
Yes, there it was again.
I ran towards the sound. 'Dad!' I shouted. 'It's Danny! Where are you?'
I stopped again and listened.
This time the answer came just loud enough for me to hear the words. 'I'm here!' the voice called out. 'Over here!'
It was him!
I was so excited my legs began to get all shaky.
'Where are you, Danny?' my father called out.
'I'm here, Dad! I'm coming.'
With the beam of the torch shining ahead of me, I ran towards the voice. The trees were bigger here and spaced farther apart. The ground was a carpet of brown leaves from last year and was good to run on. I didn't call out any more after that. I simply dashed ahead.
And all at once, his voice was right in front of me. 'Stop, Danny, stop!' he shouted.
I stopped dead. I shone the torch over the ground. I couldn't see him.
'Where are you, Dad?'
'I'm down here. Come forward slowly. But be careful. Don't fall in.'
I crept forward. Then I saw the pit. I went to the edge of it and shone the light downward and there was my father. He was sitting on the floor of the pit and he looked up into the light and said, 'Hello, my marvellous darling. Thank you for coming.'
'Are you all right, Dad?'
'My ankle seems to be broken,' he said. 'It happened when I fell in.'
The pit had been dug in the shape of a square, with each side about six feet long. But it was the depth of it that was so awful. It was at least twelve feet deep. The sides had been cut straight down into the earth, presumably with a mechanical shovel, and no man could have climbed out of it without help.
'Does it hurt?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said. 'It hurts a lot. But don't worry about that. The point is, I've got to get out of here before morning. The keepers know I'm here and they're coming back for me as soon as it gets light.'
'Did they dig the hole to catch people?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said.
I shone my light around the top of the pit and saw how the keepers had covered it over with sticks and leaves and how the whole thing had collapsed when my father stepped on it. It was the kind of trap hunters in Africa dig to catch wild animals.
'Do the keepers know who you are?' I asked.
'No,' he said. 'Two of them came and shone a light down on me but I covered my face with my arms and they couldn't recognize me. I heard them trying to guess. They were guessing all sorts of names but they didn't mention mine. Then one of them shouted, "We'll find out who you are all right in the morning, my lad. And guess who's coming with us to fish you out?" I didn't answer. I didn't want them to hear my voice. "We'll tell you who's coming," he said. "Mr Victor Hazell himself is coming with us to say hello to you!" And the other one said, "Boy, I hate to think what he's going to do when he gets his hands on you!" They both laughed and then they went away. Ouch! My poor ankle!'
'Have the keepers gone, Dad?'
'Yes,' he said. 'They've gone for the night.'
I was kneeling on the edge of the pit. I wanted so badly to go down and comfort him, but that would have been madness.
