The Fire of Life Read Online Free Page B
Author: Hilary Wilde
wearing a sleeveless white overall and still managed to make it look as if it came from Paris.
Back in the Land Rover again, Cary explained something of the problems.
' Nature conservation isn't only a case of keeping wild animals alive, but it is an applied scence,' he began, sounding rather pompous, Rayanne thought as she sat meekly, hands folded, as the Land Rover bounced about the bad earth roads. ' We're continually engaged in observation and research. We leave the academic type to research institutes. Soil conservation means the soil must be protected against exposure as well as erosion and must be chemically treated or it may become impoverished. Dead trees and other vegetation should be allowed to rot rather than be burnt. Water, of course, is another problem. The depth and stability . . .' he went on gravely.
Rayanne listened. At least, she tried to, but she found her thoughts going constantly back to the way Christine Horlock and Cary Jefferson had looked at one another. Were they in love? Perhaps they were without knowing it? Christine Horlock was very beautiful, she also had brains and obviously a deep interest in conservation, so she would make Cary Jefferson a good wife.
They paused as they came to a big double gate
that divided the eight-foot-tall wire fence and the African came running to open it, lift his hand in greeting and give a big white-toothed smile as Cary Jefferson spoke to him.
Why don't you like women visitors?' Rayanne asked as they drove through. She was as startled as he, because she had not meant to ask the question. She felt her cheeks go red. I . . . I couldn't help hearing you in the next room.'
Cary laughed. Sorry if I sounded inhospitable, but it's happened so often in the past.'
What's happened?'
He chuckled. ' Well, females can be a headache, because they complain about the heat, the dust, the water. They also talk of their own home with nostalgic reverence, saying what a beautiful place it is, what a fine social life they lead, how very different from this life: this boring, lonely life.'
' It must be boring and lonely for the wife.' Once again, Rayanne leapt to the defence of Samantha Crisp.
I agree—that's why wardens should be careful before they marry—or cease to be wardens. The trouble is, it's a kind of bug. Getting involved, I mean. You may have heard of a poet called Landor. I don't know if he's well-known, but I always remember a poem I learned at school . . . " I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life. It sinks and I am ready to depart ".' He laughed. You must think I'm mad, but that's how I feel about Nature. It's so amazingly wonderful, so fascinating to study. Do
you know . .
As the Land Rover jolted and jerked, going through the well-shrubbed hillocks and sudden little valleys, giving Rayanne glimpses of distant zebras or wildebeest, he talked to her about his work, what he had learned, what he hoped to learn. She listened entranced, for she had never thought of nature conservation in this light before. Finally he paused and sounded apologetic.
Sorry, I must have bored you to death.'
Rayanne looked at him gravely. On the contrary, you've given me an entirely new slant on conservation. I'm afraid I had no idea . .
He glanced down at her. Good. It means so little to a lot of people. What's the sense in keeping these animals alive, they say.'
Mike Crisp feels as you do.'
' I know. I wish Samantha could settle down. That's another reason why I don't welcome female visitors, Ray,' Cary went on, using his abbreviation of her Christian name as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as it would be with some men, yet it had not seemed to her that Cary Jefferson was the type of man to call a girl by her Christian name without first asking permission. He had that rather old-fashioned but very nice courtesy you so seldom saw. But she was glad. Every time he
Back in the Land Rover again, Cary explained something of the problems.
' Nature conservation isn't only a case of keeping wild animals alive, but it is an applied scence,' he began, sounding rather pompous, Rayanne thought as she sat meekly, hands folded, as the Land Rover bounced about the bad earth roads. ' We're continually engaged in observation and research. We leave the academic type to research institutes. Soil conservation means the soil must be protected against exposure as well as erosion and must be chemically treated or it may become impoverished. Dead trees and other vegetation should be allowed to rot rather than be burnt. Water, of course, is another problem. The depth and stability . . .' he went on gravely.
Rayanne listened. At least, she tried to, but she found her thoughts going constantly back to the way Christine Horlock and Cary Jefferson had looked at one another. Were they in love? Perhaps they were without knowing it? Christine Horlock was very beautiful, she also had brains and obviously a deep interest in conservation, so she would make Cary Jefferson a good wife.
They paused as they came to a big double gate
that divided the eight-foot-tall wire fence and the African came running to open it, lift his hand in greeting and give a big white-toothed smile as Cary Jefferson spoke to him.
Why don't you like women visitors?' Rayanne asked as they drove through. She was as startled as he, because she had not meant to ask the question. She felt her cheeks go red. I . . . I couldn't help hearing you in the next room.'
Cary laughed. Sorry if I sounded inhospitable, but it's happened so often in the past.'
What's happened?'
He chuckled. ' Well, females can be a headache, because they complain about the heat, the dust, the water. They also talk of their own home with nostalgic reverence, saying what a beautiful place it is, what a fine social life they lead, how very different from this life: this boring, lonely life.'
' It must be boring and lonely for the wife.' Once again, Rayanne leapt to the defence of Samantha Crisp.
I agree—that's why wardens should be careful before they marry—or cease to be wardens. The trouble is, it's a kind of bug. Getting involved, I mean. You may have heard of a poet called Landor. I don't know if he's well-known, but I always remember a poem I learned at school . . . " I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life. It sinks and I am ready to depart ".' He laughed. You must think I'm mad, but that's how I feel about Nature. It's so amazingly wonderful, so fascinating to study. Do
you know . .
As the Land Rover jolted and jerked, going through the well-shrubbed hillocks and sudden little valleys, giving Rayanne glimpses of distant zebras or wildebeest, he talked to her about his work, what he had learned, what he hoped to learn. She listened entranced, for she had never thought of nature conservation in this light before. Finally he paused and sounded apologetic.
Sorry, I must have bored you to death.'
Rayanne looked at him gravely. On the contrary, you've given me an entirely new slant on conservation. I'm afraid I had no idea . .
He glanced down at her. Good. It means so little to a lot of people. What's the sense in keeping these animals alive, they say.'
Mike Crisp feels as you do.'
' I know. I wish Samantha could settle down. That's another reason why I don't welcome female visitors, Ray,' Cary went on, using his abbreviation of her Christian name as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as it would be with some men, yet it had not seemed to her that Cary Jefferson was the type of man to call a girl by her Christian name without first asking permission. He had that rather old-fashioned but very nice courtesy you so seldom saw. But she was glad. Every time he
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