Sands of the Scorpion by Bear Grylls

Author:Bear Grylls
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RHCP

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

‘That’s a diamond? Let’s see!’

Peter took it back and studied it while Beck picked up the tin and poked around inside with his finger. There was still some fishy water at the bottom, which he was careful not to spill. He dug out three more pebbles like the first one.

‘I told you the diamonds would be hidden in the tins,’ Peter said smugly. ‘But I thought they twinkled.’

‘Only after they’re cut and polished.’

‘I wonder what it’s worth?’

‘Exactly nothing,’ Beck said bluntly. ‘We can’t eat it or drink it.’

Peter gave him a sidelong glance. ‘I wasn’t thinking what it’s worth to us. What’s it worth to Mrs Chalobah? What’s it worth to Sierra Leone? You remember what she said to us about using the diamond trade to help the country develop?’

‘Well, yeah, but she’s back there and we’re out here.’

‘So we need to let her know where the diamonds are, don’t we?’ Peter put the diamond down and felt for his camera. It was still in its pouch, hanging from his belt. ‘I’m going to film it.’

Beck just smiled and rolled his eyes.

‘No, really.’ Peter looked sternly at him and Beck saw his determination. ‘Put it this way. Even if we . . . you know . . . even if’ – he swallowed – ‘even if we don’t get out of this, they might find our bodies and they’ll get the camera. We need to let them know how the diamonds are getting out, so Mrs Chalobah can stop it.’

‘Yeah,’ Beck agreed after a moment. ‘I guess you’re right.’

He let Peter do the filming and record a brief explanation of what they had discovered. Beck kept quiet. He didn’t want to voice his own thoughts out loud. The fact was, if every tin had a layer of diamonds in it, then they had less food than he had thought . . .

While Peter was doing that, Beck gathered up some fresh wood and kindling for the next night. They might not find any further on along their way. He put it into his rucksack along with the bow and drill. By the time they had finished their tasks, the sky was greying out and there was the tiniest hint of red to the east. Dawn couldn’t be far off. They had rested, warmed up and eaten. It was time to move on.

Peter seemed to read Beck’s thoughts when he saw him studying the sky.

‘How much further?’ he asked, carefully stowing the diamonds away in the rucksack. Both boys hoped they could get them back to their rightful owners.

‘Probably just a few more miles before it gets too hot. But every bit counts. We have to press on.’

‘Yeah,’ Peter said heavily, ‘I know.’

‘Some tricks you ought to know . . . ’

‘Go on, my fine desert nomad!’

Beck grinned and kicked sand over the fire. He picked a charred lump of wood out of the ashes near the edge. It hadn’t burned for some time and had cooled down. He spread

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