Men Of Men by Wilbur Smith

Author:Wilbur Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Frontier and pioneer life, Action & Adventure, Popular American Fiction, Smith, Africa, General, Fiction - General, Zimbabwe, Suspense, Historical, Historical fiction, Diamond mines and mining, Fiction, Domestic fiction, Wilbur - Prose & Criticism, History
ISBN: 9780312940720
Publisher: St. Martin's Paperbacks
Published: 2006-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

The twins each had hold of one of Ralph's hands, and they gabbled out all the things they had saved up for weeks to tell him, and skipped to keep pace with his stride. Cathy came up behind them all, leading Tom. She and the pony had formed an immediate accord.

oh, he's beautiful, Ralph," she had said and kissed Tom's velvety muzzle.

"We don't have a horse," Victoria explained. "Daddy is a man of God, and men of God are too poor to have horses."

The small party straggled over the first low rise beyond the river, and Salina stopped and pointed down into the shallow basin ahead of them.

"Khami!" she said simply, and all of them looked to Ralph for approbation.

There was a notch in the next line of granite hills, a natural divide and shed for underground water, which accounted for the spread of lush grass that carpeted the valley.

Like chickens under the hen, the small huddle of buildings crouched beneath the hills. They were neatly laid out, thatched with yellow grass and painted dazzlingly white with burnt limewash. The largest building had a wooden cross set proudly on the ridge of the roof.

"Daddy and Mummy built the church with their own hands. King Silly Cat would not allow any of his people to help them," Victoria explained.

"Silly Cat?" Ralph asked, puzzled.

"King Mzilikazi," Salina translated. "You know Mama does not like you using fun names for the kings, Vicky," she rebuked the child mildly; but Victoria was shaking Ralph's hand excitedly and pointing to a distant figure in the valley below them.

"Daddy!" shrieked the twins in unison. There's Daddy!"

He was working in the precise geometrically laid out gardens below the church, a lanky figure whose shoulders remained stooped even when he stood upright and looked towards them, stabbed his spade into the earth and came striding up the hill.

"Ralph!" He swept off the sweatstained hat, and he was bald, like a monk, with just a fringe of silky hair forming a halo around his pate at the level of his ears. It was immediately apparent from whom Salina had inherited her glorious white-gold tresses.

"Ralph," the man repeated, and he wiped his right hand on the seat of his pants and then held it out. Despite the stoop, he was as tall as Ralph, his face deeply tanned, his bald dome as shiny as if it had been waxed and polished, his eyes pale blue as a summer sky, washed out by heat haze; but his smile was like Salina's, calm and tranquil, so that as he took the hand Ralph realized that this was the most contented and deeply happy man he had ever met in his life.

"I'm Clinton Codrington," he said. "And I suppose I must count as your uncle, though goodness knows I do not feel that old."

"I would have known you anywhere, sir," said Ralph.

"Would you indeed?"

"I have read Aunt Robyn's books, and I have always admired your exploits as a Royal Naval officer."

"Oh dear." Clinton shook his head in mock dismay.

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