“God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages.”- Jacques Deval“Padna” Baje say dat day: “You unner-stand how news about gold like this could turn this whole backdam upside-down? This here is not no small-change gold y’know. Oy guessing this gold coming from a vein that running deep and far. We can’t wurk this alone. We have to take what we need now to do what we want to do; then some day we will come back when we get the money to set up proper operation and control it. Gold is a corrupting thing, my brudder. The lust fur gold does drive a hot, hot fever …take over a man mind. It does make people act like children…do foolishness! Men would kill one ‘an-udder fur much less than this. We have to cry BLOWS my brudder; we have to move to an-udder spot…wurk this one quiet…fast…get whut we want…cover-up and come back latur. We have to cry BLOWS! Mon-kine not nice bro, especially purk-knockur monkine. You agree whut we have to do?”

Buh duh was lang time ago. Today, wit d cost-a-livin how it is, we woulda-ave to stay much longa an extrac much more. Now wen I deh-cool an ah livin peace-full-an-happy…is now Baje gon come-back. Is-ow ah gon tell my padna dat no amounta goal cud gie me dis peace an quiet ah enjoyin heah? Yuh know wuh? Ah doan tink ah did eva got goal-feva. Buh is-ow I gon get Baje to undastan dat now? Afta all we reason siddown pon dat takuba in d back-dam dat day, I-man ain got d guts to guh-bac in-a-d goal-bush wid-a-buncha-poke-knocka-man wid all dey con-ten-shun an con-fusion.

A next reason I ain too concern bout all dat goal we leff-back-dere mus-be cause since den I see a test-battelle dat lookin all-mose as good as d-one we did-see at French-man. Ah see it in dat-creek at d-bottom-landin, rite-here pon mih-place. Buh-if-ah-only tell Baje bout dat? is how ah gon say NO if he ask mih to wuk d place eh? No! I ain tellin no-baddy bout dis place –NO-BODY! not even Baje. I caan-stan d con-fusion…ah doan wan see dis space savage-up an deface; ah caan-afford-fuh-loss-mih-peace. I doan-ave fuh she NO to mih buddy-fren…cry BLOWS! or watch-mih-back. Alla-gotta-do, is keep-it-a- secret between me-an-d-birds.

Is-ow-long you bin afta goal Baje?
“Over furty year paddo. When oy not wurking, oy prospecting. You gotta go and prospect. Is so oy does tell them-this-here youth-man. “ Bage pointing to his crew now scatta-all-ova d hill-side admirin d view or pickin cashew an guava…collectin lime an lemon an lickin-dung mango from my tree wit-out a word to me; dem-dis-gettin-on jus like dem neva-sih-come–fuh-see town-people wen dey visit d country.

Baje seh: “You gotta feel in your soul you going to find gold…you gotta have confidence that YOU MUST FIND GOLD’…you have to go after it! Remember that man they call Gangasaka?”

Yea-man…ah didden know he good, but-ah-hear HE was a poke-knocka…cudden stay one-place fuh too lang…wen yuh-miss-e? Gangasacka gone. He does travel by nite lika gangasacka lizard. Is-wey-e-deh man? He still-deh-bout?

“Naw man…Gangasacka dead long!”

Yeah-man. Ah rememba sum ole-time poke-knocker-man tawkin; when Gangasacka decide to bruk-crew he gettin-up-easy-easy – mid-nite-self – he-packin-e-traps; an if e-get-ketch? e-gon play-vex an tell yuh dat-e doan stay pon camp-groun wid oman-draws or dry-coke-nut (or some-ting like duh) cause DAT MEAN BLOWS! An is jus-so Gangasacka gone. Ah didden know he dead…tink-e-did-still-deh-bout, man.

“Naw man, Gangasaka dead long…he gone.” Baje say. “All them man…good- ole-bwoy-them? They dead-out. But before oy go, oy going to go-back to all them ole-hole to look for the gold they left back….These young-bwoy these days? They wurking the gravel to death – one place – too lazy to prospect. It got too much ole-wurk-place now that gold fetching good price. How you doing my brudder? You got some hot water give we to make a likkle tea? Oy glad-bad to see you, man.”

Sure, sure, sure Bage…come siddown…rest yuh foot, man…ah got some rice an some fish-broff ketch only dis mawnin. D-gyaff-ad-mih-so, ah fuhget mih hos-pitality… quick-time ev-ry-baddy squattin-down pon-d-grass…chowin-down – sumadem wid steam-fish-an-rice, sumadem wit boil-provision-an-steam-fish – good-ting-ah-did-pull dem cassava-root an eddoe from d farm yestaday aftanoon. Ah-sen-a-yute-man to pick a nice buncha plantain to stretch-it an dem boys in Baje crew mek dey own boil; now dey all chowin-down an enjoyin d view.
“Haye, mister, dat is the river? Is wuh river is duh?” somebody asking.

Since dat yute-man shape-up, mih spirit didden tek-e. He look like one-adem bad-ways town-people who does pass true heah. Is he who manage fuh tun a simple ting like boilin-a-pot-a-provision, into one-big tek-ups by my fireside; ah doan even know d tek-ups was bout-wuh. Ah jus decide to play like ah daon k or ah ain hearin an ah continue tawkin to Baje; before ah broad-side dat yute-man an chase-e-off-mih-place. D banna got IGNAR write all over e face an pontopadat, is wuh d bible seh? “by their deeds ye shall know them?”

Well, I seh-to-mihself: Baje ole fren, yuh betta watch-yuh-step wid dis-one…cause e-lookin-like trouble goin to d backdam to happen – an is so ah-watchin-e-an-wonderin: is wuh he tink he gon do wit dat bird-cage e got?…he pass my sign…it she clear as day: ALL BIRD TRAPPING IS FORBIDDEN! Doan tell me he didden see it – ah hope-e-undastan…

“Steeuupps!”….is a ole-ish man dey callin Professo, let-out a laang suck-teet so an-e-lookin at d-bird-cage yute-man like-if-e-smellin-someting –

“Which other river it could be, eh? You don’t know your geography? It’s the Essequibo, man. You just left Demerara Woods…since you cross over Ekuk Creek you’re in Essequibo and…”

“Steeuupps!” Dis time is Ignar suckin-up-e-teet. “I doan care is where or is what-ever river it name. All I want to know is, wuh all dem rocks doing dere if dat is a river eh?”

Anada-yute-man who seh dat-e-come-ere-before, groanin like-if-e-in-pain an-e-seh: “How you mean: what the rocks doing there? Man is the river…is the rapids in the falls…dry season…low water…is…” But before d yute-man cud finish tawkin d ignar town-man cut-e –

“Dem rocks properly look ignorant!…river ain supposed to have rocks scatter all over like – river suppose to flow free and go…”

Ah cudden believe wuh ah hearin…rite den in mih mine, ah christen d ignar: ‘Ignorant Rocks’ an ah lookaroun to see if-e-stewpitty-ness affectin anybaddy-else same-way-like –me.

“As Winston Churchill once said: what we have here, is a man whose imagination is baffled by the facts; this poor unenlightened soul does not have a clue…”

Is d Professor tawk so…den e jus stan-up dere starin at Ignorant Rocks wit-e-mine- pon-e-face an den, e jus tun-up-e-nose an sniff-at-d-air, fore e-tun-e-back an walk-away down-d-hill.

“Bwoy, is you who f…ing ignorant if you don’t know wut is a wadderfall…you don’t know how rocks form rapids in wadderfalls in the river?” Is Baje cussin-vex so; is d fust time since-ah-know-Baje ah eva-hear-e-cuss so.

“All I know is what I saying…dem rocks look WRONG down dere man.”

And wit dat, Ignorant Rocks stan-up…e-liff-up-e-shirt, an-e-scratch-e-belly an rub-it-ruff-ruff; den wid one-adem lazy-man-stretch? d banna leggo one-laang-raw-cuss-belch jus before e start tawkin-an-yawnin wid-e-mout-wide-open so no-baddy not unda-staanin-a-word-dat-e-sehin.

An afta duh? Mista Ignorant Rocks jus ups-wid-e-bird-cage, an walk-away in-formin me an Baje an d resta d crew pon d hill-top –

“Now, I am going to find me one a dese sweet-singing-fools I hearin pon dis place.”

(TO BE CONTINUED)