Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur - Страница 55

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and the long slim snake of the Sabi River as it twisted through the open

forests of the plain.

He altered course slightly northwards and within ten minutes he saw the

low line of blue hills which rose abruptly out of the flat land.

There it is, ahead of us, David told Debra and his tone was infectious.

She hugged the dog closer to her and leaned towards David.

"What does it look like?

The hills were forested with big timber, and turreted with grey rock. At

their base the bush was thick and dark.  The pools glinted softly

through the dark foliage.

He described them to her.

My father named them "The String of Pearls", and that's what they look

like.  They rise out of the run-off of rain water from the sloping

ground beyond the hills.

They disappear just as suddenly again into the sandy earth of the plain,

David explained as he circled the hills, slowly losing height.  They are

what give Jabulani its special character, for they provide water for all

the wild life of the plain.  Birds and animals are drawn from hundreds

of miles to the Pearls.  He levelled out and throttled back, letting the

aircraft sink lower.  There is the homestead, white walls and thatch to

keep it cool in the hot weather, deep shaded verandas and high rooms you

will love it.

The airstrip seemed clear and safe, although the wind sock hung in dirty

tatters from its pole, David circled it carefully before lining up for

the landing, and they taxied towards the small brick hangar set amongst

the trees.

David kicked on the wheel brakes and cut the engines.  This is it, he

said.

Jabulani was one of a block of estates that bounded the Kruger National

Park, the most spectacular nature reserve on earth.  These estates were

not productive, in that they were unsuitable for the growth of crops and

few of them were used for grazing of domestic animals; their immense

value lay in the unspoiled bush veld and the wild life, in the peace and

space upon which wealthy men placed such a premium that they would pay

large fortunes for a piece of this Lebensraum.

When David's grandfather had purchased Jabulani he had paid a few

shillings an acre, for in those days the wilderness was still intact.

it had been used as a family hunting estate down the years, and as Paul

Morgan had never shown interest in the veld, it had passed to David's

father and so to David.

Now the eighteen thousand acres of African bush and plain, held as

freehold land, was a possession beyond price.

Yet the Morgan family had made little use of it these last fifteen

years.  David's father had been an enthusiastic huntsman, and with him

most of David's school holidays had been spent here.  However, after his

father's death, the visits to Jabulani had become shorter and further

apart.

It was seven years since the last visit, when he had brought up a party

of brother officers from Cobra Squadron.

Then it had been immaculately run by Sam, the black overseer, butler and

game ranger.

Under Sam's management there had always been fresh crisp linen on the

beds, highly polished floors, the exterior walls of the buildings had

been snowly white and the thatch neat and well-tended.  The deep-freeze

had been well stocked with steak and the liquor cupboard filled, with

every bottle accounted for.

Sam ran a tight camp, with half a dozen willing and cheerful helpers.

Where is Sam?  was the first question David asked of the two servants

who hurried down from the homestead to meet the aircraft.

Sam gone.  Where to?  And the answer was the eloquent shrug of Africa.

Their uniforms were dirty and needed mending, and their manners

disinterested.  Where is the Land-Rover?  'She is dead.  7hey walked up

to the homestead and there David had another series of unpleasant

surprises.

The buildings were dilapidated, looking forlorn and neglected under

their rotting black thatch.  The walls were dingy, grey-brown with the

plaster falling away in patches.

The interiors were filthy with dust, and sprinkled with the droppings of

the birds and reptiles that had made their homes in the thatch.

The mosquito gauze, that was intended to keep the wide verandas

insect-free, was rusted through and breaking away in tatters.

The vegetable gardens were overgrown, the fences about them falling to

pieces.  The grounds of the home stead itself were thick with rank weed,

and not only the Land-Rover had died.  No single piece of machinery on

the estate, water pump, toilet cistern, electricity generator, motor

vehicle, was in working order.

It's a mess, a frightful mess, David told Debra as they sat on the front

step and drank mugs of sweet tea.  Fortunately David had thought to

bring emergency supplies with them.

, oh, Davey.  I am so sorry, because I like it here.  It's peaceful, so

quiet.  I can just feel my nerves untying themselves.  Don't be sorry.

I'm not.  These old huts were built by Gramps back in the twenties, and

they weren't very well built even then.  David's voice was full of a new

purpose, a determination that she had not heard for so long.  It's a

fine excuse to tear the whole lot down, and build again.  A place of our

own?  she asked.

Yes, said David delightedly.  That's it.  That's just it!  They flew

into Nelspruit, the nearest large town, the following day.  In the week

of bustle and planning that followed they forgot their greater problems.

With an architect they planned the new homestead with care, taking into

consideration all their special requirements , a large airy study for

Debra, workshop and office for David, a kitchen laid out to make it safe

and easy for a blind cook, rooms without dangerous split levels and with

regular easily learned shapes, and finally a nursery section.  When

David described this addition Debra asked cautiously, You making some

plans that I should  know about?

You'll know about it, all right, he assured her.

The guest house was to be separate and self-contained and well away from

the main homestead, and the small hutment for the servants was a quarter

of a mile beyond that, screened by trees and the shoulder of the rocky

kopje that rose behind the homestead.

David bribed a building contractor from Nelspruit to postpone all his

other work, load his workmen on four heavy trucks and bring them out to

Jabulani.

They began on the main house, and while they worked, David was busy

resurfacing the airstrip, repairing the water pumps and such other

machinery as still had life left in it.  However, the Land-Rover and the

electricity generator had to be replaced.

Within two months the new homestead was habitable, and they could move.

Debra set up her tape recorders beneath tbt: )ig windows overlooking the

shaded front garden, where the afternoon breeze could cool the room and

waft in the perfume of the frangipani and poinsettia blooms.

While David was completely absorbed in making Jabulani into a

comfortable home, Debra made her own arrangements.

Swiftly she explored and mapped in her mind all her immediate

surroundings.  Within weeks she could move about the new house with all

the confidence of a person with normal sight and she had trained the

servants to replace each item of furniture in its exact position.

Always Zulu, the labrador pup, moved like a glossy black shadow beside

her.  Early on he had decided that Debra needed his constant care, and

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