Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur (книги серия книги читать бесплатно полностью .txt) 📗

plans for turning it into a game sanctuary.

Debra made a lovely model for David's photographs that he compiled for

the article, and she also worked with care on the text, while David fed

her ideas and criticism.

Debra's new book lay abandoned, but her disappointment was forgotten in

the pleasure of working together.

Their correspondence with other conservationists provided them with

sufficient intellectual stimulus, and the occasional company of Conrad

Berg and Jane satisfied their need for human contact.  They were still

both sensitive about being with other people, and this way they could

avoid it.

The Wild Life article was almost complete and ready for postin& when a

letter arrived from Bobby Dugan in New York.  The editor of Cosmopolitan

magazine had chanced upon one of the few copies of A Place of Our Own in

circulation.  She had liked it, and the magazine was considering

serialization of the book, possibly linked with a feature'article on

Debra.  Bobby wanted Debra to let him have a selection of photographs of

herself, and four thousand words of autobiographical notes.

The photographs were there, ready to go to Wild Life, and Debra ran

through the four thousand words in three hours with David making

suggestions, some helpful and some bawdy.

They sent off the tape and pictures in the same post as the article to

Wild Life.  For nearly a month they heard nothing more about it and then

something happened to drive it from their minds.

They were in the small thatch and daub hide beside the main pool,

sitting quietly and companionably during a lull in the evening activity.

David had his camera tripod set up in one of the viewing windows and

Debra's reflector was raised above the roof of the hide, daubed with

camouflage paint and operated by a handle above her head.

The water was still and black, except where a surface feeding bream was

rising near the far reed banks.  A flock of laughing doves was lining up

with a chattering troop of spotted guinea fowl at the water's edge,

sipping water and then pointing their beaks to the sky as they let it

run down their throats.

Suddenly David took her wrist as a cautionary signal, and by the

intensity of his grip she knew that he had seen something unusual and

she leaned close against him so that she could hear his whispered

descriptions, and with her right hand she switched on the recorder and

then reached up to aim the reflector.

A herd of the rare and shy nyala antelope were approaching the drinking

place timidly, clinging until the last possible moment to the security

of the forest.

Their ears were spread, and their nostrils quivered and sucked at the

air, huge dark eyes glowing like lamps in the gloom.

There were nine hornless females, delicate chestnut in colour, striped

with white, dainty-stepping and suspicious, as they followed the two

herd bulls.  These were so dissimilar from their females as though to

belong to a different species.  Purplish black, and shaggy with a rough

mane extending from between the ears to the crupper.  Their horns were

thick and cork screwed, tipped with cream, and between their eyes was a

vivid white chevron marking.

Advancing only a step at a time, and then pausing to stare with the

limitless patience of the wild, searching for a hint of danger, they

came slowly down the bank.

They passed the hide so closely that David was afraid to press the

trigger of his camera lest the click of the shutter frighten them away.

He and Debra sat frozen as they reached the water; Debra smiled happily

as she picked up the soft snort with which the -lead bull blew the

surface before drinkin& and the liquid slurping with which he drew his

first mouthful.

Once they were all drinking, David aimed and focused with care, but at

the click of the shutter the bull nearest him leapt about and uttered a

hoarse, throbbing alarm bark.  Instantly the entire herd whirled and

raced away like pale ghosts through the dark trees.

I got it!  I got it!  exulted Debra.  Wow!  He was so close, he nearly

burst my eardrums.  The excitement on Jabulani was feverish.  Nyala

antelope had never been seen on the estate before, not even in David's

father's time, and all steps were taken to encourage them to remain. The

pools were immediately placed out of bounds to all the rangers and

servants, lest the human presence frighten the herd off before they had

a chance to settle down and stabilize their territory.

Conrad Berg arrived, still using a stick and limping heavily as he would

for the rest of his life.  From the hide he watched the herd with David

and Debra, and then back at the homestead he sat before the log fire,

eating prime beef steak and drinking Old Buck while he gave his opinion.

They aren't from the Park, I shouldn't think.  I would have recognized a

big old bull like that if I'd ever seen him before, they have probably

sneaked in from one of the other estates, you haven't got the south

fence up yet, have you?  'Not yet.  Well, that's where they have moved

from, probably sick of being stared at by all the tourists.  Come up

here for a bit of peace.  He took a swallow of his gin.  You're getting

a nice bit of stuff together here, Davey, another few years and it will

be a real show-place.  Have you got any plans for visitors, you could

make a good thing out of this place, like they have at Mala-Mala.

Five-star safaris at economy prices - Connie, I'm just too damn selfish

to want to share this with anybody else.

The distractions and the time had given Debra an opportunity to recover

from the American failure of A Place of Our Own, and one morning she sat

down at her desk and began working again on her second novel.

That evening she told David: One of the blocks I have had is that I

hadn't a name for it.  It's like a baby, you have to give it a name or

it's not really a person.  'You have got a name for it?  he asked.  Yes.

'Would you like to tell me?

She hesitated, shy at saying it to some other person for the first time.

I thought I'd call it, A Bright and Holy Thing, she said, and he thought

about it for a few moments, repeating it softly, You like it?  she asked

anxiously.  It's great, he said.  I like it.  I really do.  With Debra

once more busy on her novel it seemed each day was too short for the

love and laughter and industry which filled it.

The call came through while David and Debra were sitting around the

barbecue in the front garden.  David ran up to the house when the

telephone bell insisted.

Miss Mordecai?  David was puzzled, the name was vaguely familiar.

Yes.  I have a person-to-person call from New York, for Miss Debra

Mordecai, the operator repeated impatiently, and David realized who she

was talking about.

She'll take it, he said, and yelled for Debra.  It was Bobby Dugan, and

the first time she had heard his voice.  Wonder girl, he shouted over

the line.  Sit down, so you don't fall down.  Big Daddy has got news for

you that will blow your mind!  Cosmopolitan ran the article on you two

weeks ago.  They did you real proud, darling, full-page photograph, God,

you looked good enough to eat, Debra laughed nervously and signalled

David to put his ear against hers to listen.

the mag hit the stands Saturday, and Monday morning was a riot at the

book stores.  They were beating the doors down.  You've caught the

imagination of everybody here, darling.