MORRO VELHO, the Continuing Saga

MORRO VELHO, THE CONTINUING SAGA
C2008 JoJo

As you all know, our house in Morro Velho was haunted by Dona Carolina, George Chalmer’s housekeeper who unfortunately looked like a witch when she was alive.

Our house was in a remote corner of Morro Velho on top of a steep hill. A road ran along the far side of it, and about a half mile down the road was the Brazilian miner’s village called “Quintais.” The miners walked up this road to and from their shifts at the mine. The evening shift came by at around 6.30pm by which time the sun had set.

Our house had a flat roof so one day, Doreen and I devised a devilish prank, destined to scare the living daylights out of the miners. We went up onto the roof, draped white sheets over our heads, and holding an upward pointing flashlight, Doreen would set off, roller skating across the roof. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, I’d set off quickly following her on my skates by which time, she’d made her way back to the starting point – around and around we’d go! From the road, it looked like an apparition zooming all around the house at fast speed. Being on roller skates, our heads didn’t bob up and down as would’ve been the case, had we been running, and the speed at which we skated was much faster than anyone could’ve run. It was all extremely realistic and its effects were electrifying. Male screams from the roads could be heard up to where we were on the roof (very gratifying) of “VEJA SO, E DONA CAROLINA,” (Look, it’s Dona Carolina,”) and they’d all run down the road as fast as their legs would carry them!

Oh we were baaad!

We’d been living in our house for about a year, when we acquired a dog named Skipper. He was a purebred Airedale and a magnificent animal. His owners had to return to England and couldn’t face putting him through a 6 month quarantine, which was the requirement in those days for bringing an animal into England, so they gave him to us. Along with Skipper we were given a big wooden box with his name engraved on its lid. It contained a toothbrush, toothpaste, nail file and other grooming aids. I regret to say, not one single item of it was ever used, and Skipper was none the worse for it. He didn’t miss his previous owners (an elderly couple) one bit. He absolutely adored us all and instantly became part of our family.

Skipper had a peculiar characteristic – he couldn’t abide Brazilians. Anyone of the British Community could come onto our property, and Skipper would greet them politely, but let a Brazilian set foot on our property, and he’d launch a ferocious attack.

One night, my parents were out and we’d been left in the care of our servants, whose quarters were separate from the rest of the house. It was a brilliant moonlit night and at around 2.00 a.m. something woke me – I have no idea what it was. I rushed to the window, and to my horror, I saw a man carefully lowering himself down off our garden wall.

Frankly, I was paralysed with fear, and I couldn’t move away from the window. Then I saw Skipper who was fully aware of that man’s presence. To my surprise, Skipper didn’t bark – he actually stalked the man exactly like a cat stalking a mouse. He didn’t make a sound. As soon as he was close enough, he launched himself off the ground like a rocket, and grabbed the man by the throat. That man was literally fighting for his life, because Skipper’s jaws were clenched around his throat and he had no intention of letting go. The struggle lasted about 5 minutes, when suddenly, the man was finally able to break Skipper’s hold on his throat. He turned tail and made a mad dash for the garden wall. When he was almost on the top, Skipper bit onto his buttocks and the guy let out a strangled howl and flew over the wall leaving behind, a piece of his pants and probably a piece of his buttocks too!

Skipper proceeded to “kill” that piece of cloth, shaking his head violently from side to side, then turned and trotted up the garden path, back to his kennel. He looked very pleased with himself, I must say! He had a “Job well done – that bastard won’t be back” look on his face! And he was right. The word got around that not only was our house haunted by Dona Carolina, but there was also a 6 ft. monster lurking in the garden, who would rip you to shreds, if you dared enter it. We never had another attempted burglary!

Skipper was a wonderful dog, and I will never forget him.