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
