A Time to Die - Smith Wilbur (книги серии онлайн .TXT) 📗
It's their land; why can't they be free to live where they choose?"
"And that is the logic of woolly-headed liberalism." Sean laughed. "Make up your mind whose side you are on, the beautiful wild animals or the beautiful wild blacks. You can't have it both ways; when the two come into competition for living space, the wild animals always come off losers-unless we hunters can pay the bill for them."
He wasn't an easy man to argue with, she conceded, and she was relieved when her father cut in and gave her a moment to gather her wits.
"There can be no doubt on which side my darling daughter stands. After all, Sean, you are talking to a senior member of the commission for the reinstatement of the Inuit people to their traditional lands."
She smiled at him sweetly. "Not Inuit, Papa. People will think you're going soft. Not even Eskimos-your usual description is "gooks," isn't it?"
Riccardo smoothed back the thick waves of silver at his temples.
"Shall I tell you how my daughter and her commission go about determining how much of Alaska belongs to the Inuits?" he asked Sean.
"He's going to tell you anyway." Claudia leaned across to stroke her father's hand. "It's one of his party routines. It's very funny; you'll love it."
Riccardo went on as though she had not spoken. "They go down Fourth Street in Anchorage... that's where the bars are, and grab a couple of Eskimos that are still on their feet. They put them in an airplane and fly them down the peninsula, and they say to them, "Now tell us where your people used to live. Show us your traditional tribal hunting grounds. How about that lake over there; did your people fish there once upon a time?"" Riccardo changed his voice; he was an excellent mimic. ""Sure!" says the Eskimo in the back seat, squinting out the window, full of Jack Daniel's to his eyes. "That's where my granpappy fished.", He changed voices, imitating Claudia. "And what about those mountains over there, the ones we wicked white folk who stole it away from you call Brooks Range, did your granpappy ever hunt there?"" He changed to his Eskimo intonation. ""sure did, man.
He shot a whole mess of bears there. I remember my gramnommy telling me about it.""
"Go on, Papa. You've got a marvelous audience tonight. Mr. Courtney is enjoying your wit hugely," Claudia encouraged him.
"You know something?" Riccardo asked. "Claudia has never yet had an Eskimo turn down a lake or a mountain she has offered him, isn't that something? My little girl has a perfect score, never a single refusal."
"You are just plain lucky, Capo," Sean told him. "At least they might leave you something; here they took the lot."
Claudia woke to the clink of crockery outside the flap of her tent and Moses" polite cough. Nobody had ever brought her tea in bed before. It was a luxury that made her feel marvelously decadent.
It was still pitch dark and icy cold in the tent. She could hear the crackle of frost on the canvas as Moses opened the flap. She had never expected it to be so cold in Africa.
She sat up in the camp bed with a quilt over her shoulders, cupping her hands around the tea mug, and watched Moses fussing about the tent. He poured a bucket of hot water into her washbasin and set a clean white towel beside it. He filled the tooth mug with boiled drinking water and squeezed toothpaste onto her brush for her. Then he brought a brazier of burning charcoal and placed it in the center of the tent.
"Too cold today, Donna."
"And too damned early," Claudia agreed sleepily.
"Did you hear the lions roaring last night, Donna?"
"I didn't hear a thing." She yawned. They could have had a brass band playing "America, the Beautiful" beside her bed without waking her.
Moses finished laying out her clothes on the spare bed. He had polished her boots until they shone. "You want something, Donna, you call me," he told her as he backed out of the tent flap.
She shot out of the warm bed and stood over the brazier shivering while she held her panties over the coals to warm them before pulling them on.
The stars were still shining when she left the tent. She paused to look up, still amazed by the jeweled treasure chest of the southern sky. She picked out the Southern Cross with a sense of achievement, then went to the camp fire where the men were and held her hands out gratefully to the flames.
"You haven't changed since you were little." Her father smiled at her. "Do you remember how I used to battle to get you out of bed to go to school every morning?" And a waiter brought her a second cup of tea.
Sean whistled, and she heard Job start the Toyota and drive it around to the front gate of the stockade. They began pulling on their heavy gear: jerseys and anoraks, caps and woolen scarves.
When they trooped out to the hunting car, they found the rifles in the racks and Job and Shadrach, the two Matabeles, standing in the back with the little Ndorobo tracker between them. The tracker was a childlike figure who came only to Claudia's armpit, but he had an endearing wrinkled grin and bright mischievous eyes. She had been predisposed to like all the black camp staff, but Matatu was already her favorite. He reminded her of one of the dwarfs from Snow White. The three blacks were bundled up against the cold in army surplus greatcoats and knitted balaclava caps, and they answered Claudia's greeting with white grins in the darkness. All of them had fallen under her spell.
Sean took the wheel and Claudia sat on the front seat between him and her father. She crouched down behind the windshield and cuddled against Riccardo for warmth. In the short time she had been on safari, she had come to love this start to the day's adventure.
