MARIA MELVILLE’S WYLDCLIFFE JOURNAL
APRIL 9, 1919

The memories of what I have to describe next are almost too painful to bear. I would never have imagined the places that my innocent rebellion would lead me. But that was later. At first I was happy, because of Zak.

At school I pretended to be the perfect student, though I couldn’t help smiling to myself when I thought about my hours of freedom at the Gypsy camp. Sometimes I saw Miss S. looking at me, and I wondered if she guessed.

I had imagined that my secret life with Zak and his family would carry on just the same, carefree and happy, but one morning I rode up to the camp and found everything in confusion. Women were crying and wailing and the men looked angry and the children looked scared. I jumped off Cracker and ran up to Zak. “What’s wrong? What has happened?”

Zak looked different, as though he had become a man in a single night. “My father is missing. He went out hunting late last night and has not come back.”

“Perhaps he is just sleeping out on the hills.”

“No! Old Rebekah has spoken. She says he has been taken by the evil spirits who dwell in the caves.”

“Don’t be so foolish!” I exclaimed.

“You call the Romany ways foolish?” Zak glared at me. “Everyone knows that Rebekah has the Sight. If she says a thing, it is true. The men are going out to look for him.”

“But where will you look? The moors are vast. Where will you start?”

“My uncles saw my father late last night up near the entrance to the caves by the White Tor. He said he was looking for a fledging linnet as a gift for my mother and would stay a little longer on the hills. He must have strayed too close to the caves and angered the spirits that live there. That is where we will go to search for him. Underground.”

“Let me come with you,” I begged. I didn’t believe in the spirits story, of course. I thought that his father must be lying hurt on the moors after an accident.

“This is not for girls, Maria. Besides, we hunt at night. My father was taken at night, so he will be found at night.” Zak shook his head to fight back his tears. “If my father does not come back, I will have to be the head of our family before my time, and look after my mother and sisters.”

“I am sure you will find him, Zak. But I wish you would tell the doctor or the village constable. They would help you to search.”

Zak laughed a hard, unhappy laugh. “They would be only too glad that one of our kind is lost.” I had never heard him speak so bitterly before.

“But what if your father has fallen and has broken his leg?” I asked. “You will need a doctor to help him.”

“Your ways are not our ways.”

“But I am like you! I am one of the Roma.”

“Then accept what the Elders have decided,” he said with a scowl. “We will hunt for my father tonight, and it is only the Brothers who will go. The women will stay at home and keep the fire burning. That will keep his soul alive.”

Fairfax passed by us and stopped to speak to me. “Don’t worry. We won’t rest until we find him.”

“Are you going with the Brothers? But you are not even Roma! It’s not fair!”

“But I am older and stronger than you are, little Maria.” Fairfax gave me a tired smile. “And I have some powers of my own.”

“I am not little,” I snapped. “I am nearly sixteen. I am not a child!”

I turned away and mounted Cracker, then galloped back to school, crying all the way. I wanted so much to help, but it seemed that Zak had turned against me. I was good enough to be his carefree companion, to be given secret kisses, but not good enough to ride with the Brothers. I wanted to prove that I was really part of the Gypsy family and just as strong as a boy.

If I had known what I would see, would I still have gone?

I do not know. I will never know.

I turned to Joseph again for help. Another shilling bought what I needed from him. He agreed to leave Cracker saddled and ready in the little paddock by the school gates that night. After lights-out, I told Winifred that I was not well and was going to see the nurse. Then I crept softly down the marble stairs and fled through a side door and into the moonlit grounds. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it would burst. Joseph had done what I had asked and had left a heap of boys’ clothing next to my pony. I pulled them on, muffling my figure with a thick jacket and scarf, then led Cracker out of the gates and down the lane to the village. I didn’t ride straight up to the Gypsy camp. My plan was to hide in the shadows of the trees by the river. Then I would join the men as they rode past in the darkness, hoping that they would not notice one more young lad joining in the hunt. With my hair pushed into a cap, I prayed that I would not be recognized.

My plan worked at first. After a few minutes I saw the riders file out of the camp to the river, on their way to the open moors. Zak was riding at the front, solemn and fierce, next to his uncles. I hung back until they had all gone by; then I urged my pony forward and joined their company. Once we reached the moors, the signal was given and the horses galloped away into the night.

Although I was sorry for Zak and wanted so much to find his father, I could not help rejoicing in that ride. The stars and the hoofbeats and the wind on my face! And the men cried out in low, strong voices; a chant that sounded wild and sad at the same time. They halted now and then to wait for an answering call from Zak’s father, but we heard nothing.

We reached the ridge with the stars shining high above us, and rode up to the standing stones. They looked like a holy temple in the moonlight. The men fell silent and we came to a stop. One of them dismounted and buried a bundle at the foot of the tallest stone. It was food and drink and gold coins. “Spirit of the hills, take this offering in return for our Brother,” he said. “Open the secret ways to us. Release his body and soul.”

Then the man sprang back up onto his horse and we galloped away again. Soon the land became marshy and wet and the horses had to pick a path carefully for fear of falling into the bog. But at last we passed that danger and climbed up to the White Tor, the great outcrop of limestone where the caves led under the hills.

The mouth of the biggest cave looked so black, as though a hole had been cut out of the earth. It felt like the entrance to another world. Everyone dismounted, and the horses whinnied in alarm as they were tethered outside the cave mouth. I shivered and began to think that perhaps this was not such a splendid adventure after all.

“Our Brother has been taken under the earth. We must follow him into Death.”

It was too late to turn back. I pulled my cap farther over my eyes and looked down at the ground as we moved forward, hoping that no one would speak to me and guess who I was. But someone jostled me and stepped on my foot. I looked up guiltily and saw Zak staring at me in recognition.

“You’ll get into such trouble!” he hissed at me.

“I just wanted to be with you,” I whispered back. “Please, Zak, don’t tell.”

I think in truth he was glad I was there, because he didn’t give me away. He grasped my hand for a moment, and then we followed the men into the cave, walking silently like in a dream.

I can’t write about it anymore. That is enough, for now.