The cave smelt of wet clay and damp; damp that filled the air and lay on the smooth rocks. As Karabo leaned on a rock to push herself up a ledge she felt the wet cold rock, slippery under her hand. The sounds of everyone’s feet echoed and crunched on the fine sandy floor of the cave. As the tunnel narrowed in places, everyone had to bend forward to avoid hitting their heads. Their head torches, provided by the guide, lit the path in front of them as they seemed to descend further down into the earth, the sound of running water becoming louder. The air became ice cold and Karabo shivered; her breathing became shallow and fast as her heart rate increased. She breathed out hard. ‘Go away’ she told the presence trying to get into her head again.

‘Here we are!’ came the guide’s voice up ahead. ‘Oh, wow!’ came a second voice.

Karabo entered the cave atrium. The tunnel had opened up, and the light of her torch could barely reach the full height of the cave’s ceiling. The air was less oppressive, and Karabo could hardly believe she was in a cave. It was as if she were in a large hall, rather than underneath a mountain. The sounds of the waterfall hushed the noise of their shuffling feet and, as Karabo turned her torch towards where the noise of the water was coming from, she saw the waterfall.

It wasn’t very wide, perhaps two metres, but it poured from about six or seven metres up, crashing into the pool of water below, making a fine mist where the water pooled. A small lake was at the base of the waterfall and it lapped at the rocks surrounding the lake. Karabo walked to the edge of the pool and shone her head torch into the water – it was crystal clear, and deep. Staring into the water, a strange feeling crawled up her back making her shiver. She couldn’t shake the feeling of apprehension, which made her stomach twist tighter. She hugged herself, unconsciously rubbing her bare arms, trying to rid herself of the anxiety.

The guide had lit some lights that hung on the side of the walls and the cave seemed less ominous. He was calling everyone over to the far side of the pool, because he wanted to tell them more about the cave.

‘Find yourself a comfortable rock to sit on, so I can tell you all about the legend of Lobengula’s treasure,’ suggested the guide. He spoke loudly over the sound of the waterfall, enjoying the sound of his own voice reverberating on the stone walls.

Karabo looked around for a rock to sit on and noticed Cedric shift uneasily and continue to stand. Mrs Khumalo, whose ornate sunglasses now perched on her head like bug eyes, stood in a shadow, making it impossible to see her face. Isla gestured to Karabo to sit next to her and share a rock with Anathi.

‘Hundreds of years ago, Mzilikazi, a general of Shaka Zulu, the King of the Zulus, left the Kingdom with his followers and came here to Matabeleland, this land now called Zimbabwe. Mzilikazi was a strong man, with many rules and over 200 wives,’ began the guide, his face lighting up.

‘Honestly!’ exclaimed Anathi, a strong feminist.

‘One of Mzilikazi’s lowly wives had a son named Lobengula. He was a favourite son of Mzilikazi, and when the great Mzilikazi passed on, Lobengula became king, after defeating those who didn’t believe he was good enough to rule,’ said the guide, walking and using his arms as he spoke, to add a theatrical element to his tale.

‘Lobengula was a good ruler, and his people loved him. He was less strict than Mzilikazi, but he was also clever. Lobengula collected ivory, gold and diamonds. His men were said to bring him diamonds from the diamond fields in South Africa when they came home. The hunters who hunted on his lands gave him the ivory, and the miners who mined his land gave him the gold. Over the many years of his rule, Lobengula is said to have amassed a sizeable treasure – a treasure that even Rhodes wanted to get his hands on. But, as I said, Lobengula was a smart man. He hid the treasure before Rhodes came marching in with his army and shot down the brave Matabele warriors,’ said the guide, shaking his head sadly.

He stopped walking and turned to his audience. ‘But Rhodes could never find the treasure. It is said that the men who hid it, were themselves slain to ensure the treasure would never be found. Some say there is a map somewhere. But no one has ever found this map… and so Lobengula’s treasure remains hidden, to this day!’

He let the silence linger, until Cedric started to clap and everyone else joined in. ‘Bravo, great story!’ shouted Cedric above the sound of the waterfall and the clapping. ‘Let’s go back, I’m cold in this wet cave and hungry for my breakfast!’ he continued, indicating to the guide it was time to go.

‘Not so fast, Cedric,’ came a loud voice behind them. Karabo felt cold seep deep into her bones. Slowly she turned around.