and they stayed in the presbytery next to the little St. Anthony parish church in Front Street. The girls shared a room upstairs and the boys slept rough on the floor in the large front room downstairs, stowing away their bedding before Mass each morning so that the place could revert to its regular daytime uses.
On their second night in Bartica it was full moon and the young people from Georgetown went walking along Front Street, past the police station and the stelling, around the curve at the top of the street, ending up at the Bernard’s Croft Hotel overlooking the confluence of the rivers. There they ordered soft drinks and bottles of the still new Banks beer from the bar and chatted loudly, imagining that they were behaving like adults. They fed the jukebox near the bar and it wasn’t long before dancing started. Basil Ross, who had enjoyed the trip so far, began to feel uncomfortable; he knew that soon everyone would be admiring and applauding Basil Raatgever as he glided across the floor with one or other of the girls. He told himself it was silly to be jealous, especially now, when, on this trip, he and Raatgever were on good terms again and everyone was in high spirits , after the long slog of preparing for A-levels. Ross told the others he was feeling hot and would take a walk along the river wall to get some air; if he didn’t see them when he returned, he would make his own way back to the presbytery.
The moonlight was brilliant and quite beautiful on the water. Basil Ross walked slowly along the wall, breathing deeply and remembering places in the interior where he had lived and gone to school as a child, and where he had later spent his school holidays with his parents. He sat on the wall not far from the little Public Works jetty and looked at the river and willed himself to be happy. He thought how good it was to have got through the exams feeling confident of his results and slowly his irritation eased. He was happy to be at that spot, pleased that his troubled relationship with Raatgever was resolved. While Ratty might be in love with dancing and the girls, he, Ross, was in love with the whole world, especially the part of it in front of him, touched magically by the silvery moonlight. He sat on the wall for a long time, deciding to say his night prayers and his rosary right there. Then he got up and headed back to the hotel. The jukebox still played, at lower volume, and there were a few men at the bar, but no sign of any of his classmates, so he made his way back to the presbytery. There people were unfolding bedding and getting ready to sleep, so he did the same. Then he noticed that Raatgever was not there. ‘He and Alison went off walking somewhere with a couple of Bartica fellows we met at the hotel,’ someone told him, and he began to feel uneasy again.
The others had gone to sleep but he was still awake, waiting. Some time around two o’clock Basil Raatgever and Alison Cossou came in. They seemed to Basil Ross so mature and self-confident; he felt a pang as they moved carefully about in the almost-dark room. At the foot of the stairs he heard Raatgever whisper: ‘See you tomorrow.’ Alison tiptoed upstairs, but Ross could not help noticing, despite the dim light, that Raatgever had given her a gentle tap on her bottom as she ascended. Ross felt another pang.
When Raatgever was settled in his sleeping bag next to him, Ross pretended to wake up and asked where they had been. Raatgever told him that there had been a dance somewhere in Fourth Avenue and they were invited by two local fellows. The music was good, and Alison wanted to dance, which they did for a while, but most of the men seemed intent on getting drunk and the women looked fed up and uninteresting, so he and Alison had left, walked back to the hotel, sat on the wall and chatted for over an hour in the moonlight. Raatgever did not ask how Ross how he had spent the evening.
* * *
The next day they left early by boat to visit a small waterfall in the lower Mazaruni, where they would bathe and picnic for the day. The boat pulled into a section of riverbank near a small, forested island where the students noticed the beginning of an overgrown trail. It opened out a bit as they got further into it but, although quite distinct, it had evidently not been cleared for some time. The trail crossed a swift-flowing creek by means of a half-submerged log and they began to hear the sound of the waterfall.
When they emerged into a small clearing, Father De Montfort announced: ‘This is it, Baracara Falls’. There the creek cascaded over a stone ledge about twenty feet above their heads and tumbled, foaming and splashing over a heap of large boulders and into a pool whose edges were covered in cream-coloured foam. The boys thought the waterfall was small, but quite impressive, and the water looked cool and refreshing. While their classmates put down baskets and haversacks and prepared to strip and stand or sit on the boulders and let the falling water cool them down after their brief hike, the two Basils, already in swimming trunks, were climbing the falls, one on either side.
Father De Montfort shook his head and smiled and one of the others remarked: ‘Look at Ratty-and-Ross climbing the fall – trust them to make a contest out of it.’ It was not difficult to climb, despite the volume of descending water, as there were many ledges and handholds among the boulders. It seemed as though Ross reached the top first, but soon both boys were standing on the ledge looking down on the others, the water curving high about their calves. After a while those below saw them turn and walk along the rocky ledge away from the lip and along the creek-bed, disappearing into the trees and bushes behind the waterfall. Ross was in front and Raatgever behind him. That was the last anyone ever saw of Raatgever – even Ross, if you believe his story.
The rest of the party bathed in the cold, falling water or in the little pool at its base; a few of the other boys eventually climbed to the ledge as the two Basils had done, but did not venture far along the creek in pursuit of them. All accepted that Ross and Raatgever were extraordinary people and at times it was best to leave them to pursue their own joint agenda. The group had arrived at Baracara Falls just after 10:00 a.m. At 12:30 they had lunch, making sure to leave some for the two Basils. Just before one o’clock Ross appeared on the lip of the waterfall looking troubled.
‘Did Ratty come back?’ he shouted. When they told him that he had not, Ross seemed more agitated.
‘We thought he was with you. We saw him follow you into the bush,’ Father De Montfort said.
‘I thought he was behind me all the time, but when I turned around he’d disappeared. I’m going back to find him.’
And that, essentially, is the story. Pretty soon everybody was topside the falls looking for Raatgever, except the rather corpulent Tony D’Andrade and two of the girls. Alison Cossou had sprinted up the falls quicker than most of the boys. Ross took them to the spot where he said he had turned around for the first time to say something to Raatgever, only to discover that he had vanished. The others were surprised how far they’d gone along the creek; it was quite difficult going in places – there were swampy patches and places that were quite deep and other spots that seemed particularly gloomy and sinister. They could not understand why the two Basils would want to trudge through all that – it was hardly anyone’s idea of fun. Ross said that he and Raatgever had spoken to each other from time to time and that he’d heard Ratty’s footsteps splashing behind him – although when he turned around it was partly because he had not heard anything from Raatgever for a while.
The whole story sounded improbable and one of the other boys said, ‘The two of you concocted this whole thing to play a trick on us – it’s just the kind of thing you two would do. I’m sure Ratty’s hiding in the bush somewhere, or else he’s back at the falls by now, sharing the joke with fat D’Andrade and the girls.’
This immediately seemed plausible to all, including the priest, and they were ready to abandon the search and return to the waterfall, but it was hard not to believe Ross, who was by now visibly disturbed and swore that it was no trick. For more than an hour they shouted Raatgever’s name and searched up and down the creek for him, making forays into the bush wherever there was an opening in the undergrowth through which he could have walked off into the surrounding forest. There was no response and no signs that Raatgever had been there.
The group assembled back at the falls at 4:30 p.m.. By then the three who had remained at the foot of the falls had grown concerned at all the distant shouting and thrashing around they had heard – and at the passage of time. The boatman then came along the path from the river to discover why the group was not waiting on the riverbank at 4:15 as planned, and there was a moment of pandemonium with everyone speaking and shouting at the same time. All