would have!
As he carefully descended to the valley bottom, the skies gave a sour rumble from far away. Samuel stopped his descent for a moment to eye the great stained rock face at the head of the gorge. Down this dribbled a tiny stream which fed the pond on the valley floor. Far above, the icy mountaintops were hidden in a veil of frost, and the pale clouds had begun spilling over the rises and creeping down into the forested valleys, obscuring all that lay beyond them. There was no hint of the existence of the peaks and spires that watched the valleys tirelessly from their eternal heights-just a solid, greying curtain that was slowly enshrouding the sky.
With a gulp of dread, Samuel hoped it would not rain today, as there was still much adventuring to be done. He hoped the mountains would keep it to themselves for once, for looking out over the village the sky was still fine and blue, with the barest hints of curling, white wisps here and there.
It took some time to carefully climb down and, with a grunt, Samuel leapt the last step onto the pebbled floor. His feet crunched with each sandy footfall as he crossed the fallen moss-covered trunk to the other side of the stream.
He spied a long, black eel twisting sinuously in the shallow waters below; it made a shiver ran up his spine. Samuel did not like eels. They looked as if they were just waiting for someone to fall in so they could gobble them up. It took an especially hot day and a total absence of eels before he would even dip his toes in the water here. He often swam with Tom behind their house where the river was large and dark, but he had never seen any eels in those waters-just a few small nipper-fish and they were not scary at all.
He sat on the rocks and watched the water trickle down over the natural ledges. Occasionally, he plucked up a stone and sent it flying into the pool’s centre, or set sticks to float like boats down the various tiny waterfalls until they vanished into the cracks under the great stones that blocked the valley’s exit.
After a time, as Samuel sat squatting on his heels, throwing handfuls of tiny pebbles at his floating sticks, he noticed something curious seemed to be happening. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but the skinny cascade of water dribbling down into the valley appeared to be growing. As he observed, the water began making fresh paths, falling faster and splashing louder as it slapped down into the pond. The sky boomed again far off, and Samuel realised that it must be raining hard up on the mountain. Down here in the narrow valley, all he could see was the greying sky rolling above. The thought occurred to him that he should be going before it began to rain here, too, but he quickly forgot the idea upon spying the fascinating sight of the growing, gurgling waters. Even if it did start raining, he was so fleet-footed and so nimble-toed, he was sure he could get home before his shirt was barely wet.
The waterfall was running ever more violently with each moment-more than Samuel had ever seen it-and it crashed down from far above with ever-increasing vigour. The rock face was now hidden behind a sheet of white water that bubbled and gurgled and hissed as it fell. It plunged into the pond with a noise that was quickly becoming a roar. Samuel noticed that his clothes had become all wet from the mist that was being thrown up and his skin was covered with a sheen of water. The little stream running from the valley was growing too, now surging against the exit stones, and Samuel had to step onto the higher rocks as the water quickly grew. All the pebbled and sandy spots were now underwater and only the higher, dark stones that jutted up between the valley walls still remained dry.
It was then that the mist all around became much heavier, settling on his skin in clouds of vapour, and Samuel realised that it was beginning to rain here, too. In a panic, he remembered that it would be much harder to climb from the valley. It had been fun throwing rocks and watching the waters grow, but he thought he should like to be back out of the valley before it filled with water entirely.
He hopped from rock to rock and hurried across the fallen trunk, waters lapping at its base, and began up the crumbling slope. Rocks and soil became dislodged under his feet and fell away, bouncing into the pond. The slim trees and branches he used to help him balance were wet and slippery, sliding through his fingers, making the ascent all the more treacherous. His heart was pounding against his ribs when, exhausted, he finally reached the great stump and pulled himself onto it. He could see the stream that fell into the valley from up here. It now resembled something more like the river behind his house than the trickling brook he was accustomed to. The water crawled slowly to the cliff’s edge where it leapt in enormous volumes to far below. The valley floor was now invisible amongst the mist and waters that billowed into the air. He then had a dreadful thought. No one knew where he was at all. If he should slip and fall into the valley below no one would ever find him-or his bones. The thought made him shudder.
The rain was falling heavily and Samuel dreaded his punishment as he lowered himself from the great stump and began to hurry home, cold and wet, in the dull afternoon light. Somehow, everything he ever did always turned into trouble. Mother would be very angry indeed.
The next morning found Samuel and his mother again bouncing towards the village behind Aaron. It was sunny now, but the trees and grass were still glistening and the air carried the fresh scent of the recent rain. A few small threads of cloud still lingered here and there and even above the mountain tops the sky was a perfect blue. Samuel had been in sore trouble when he had come home the night before, saturated from head to toe and covered in mud and muck. His bottom stung with each bump on the road after the spanking that Father had given him.
Samuel could tell that Mother was still in a bad mood after all his mischief. She had missed her women’s meeting and every time she looked over at him, she just sighed and shook her head.
Stable Waterford was much quieter than it had been yesterday. Market day was the only time when the village was really exciting. Other days, there was no one to see and nothing interesting to do. He almost wished he could be at home doing his chores.
‘I just have to talk to a few of the ladies, so you wait here,’ she told Samuel.
‘Can I go see Tom?’ he asked as she tethered Aaron by the trough.
‘Very well,’ she replied, much to Samuel’s surprise, ‘but we won’t be here very long, so don’t get into mischief. I’ll come and get you when it’s time to leave.’
Samuel gave a cheer and skipped down towards the basket store, trotting down the road and in through the front door. Tom was sitting beside his mother on a small, three-legged stool, helping her weave some small containers. Tom’s mother’s fingers moved so quickly, Samuel wondered how she did not make mistakes. Tom’s father had said it took years of practice to become so good at weaving things. Even Tom could make quite impressive things, given time.
Upon seeing Samuel, Tom smiled and looked expectantly towards his own mother.
‘Go on, then,’ she said, nodding towards the door, and the two boys were soon frolicking out into the street.
The village was virtually deserted compared to the previous day. A few carts and horses were tied before stores, but otherwise, they had the street to themselves.
‘You have to see something!’ Tom gasped.
‘What is it?’ Samuel asked, suddenly excited.
‘Follow me! I hope we’re not too late!’ Tom said and led the way towards Old Mr Keen’s Inn, where, curiously, a small commotion was in progress. ‘Look!’ Tom called as he pointed.
They both stopped dead in their tracks as they came before a strange-looking man sitting on a small rug before the front door. Some people had gathered and were waiting expectantly. The boys pushed to the front to observe.
The man sat cross-legged and wore a purple, pointed hat with a tiny bell at the top. His brown, bony chest lay bare and he wore great baggy, purple pants, with bells on his purple shoes. He had a chestnut tan, but most surprising to Samuel was that the man had a
‘Look at that!’ Samuel declared with awe.
‘I know,’ Tom agreed. ‘He’s amazing. Wait until you see what he does.’
Everybody gathered around. Suddenly, the man’s eyes popped open and he leapt to his feet. There was a gasp from the audience. Without a word, he somehow produced a shiny, red ball from the very air and held it out for all to inspect, raising one eyebrow as if to reinforce just how mysterious he was. The audience was gape-mouthed. Another flash of his hand and there were now two balls. He began to juggle them in one hand with his other hand
