Read "When the Lion Feeds" by Wilbur Smith available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first purchase. A Courtney series adventure - Book. When the Lion Feeds - The Courtney Series 1 ebook by Wilbur Smith. Preview Now; Preview saved; Save Preview; View Synopsis. #86 in Fiction & Literature. When the lion feeds. [Wilbur A Smith] -- In a place called The Ridge of White Waters, Sean made a lifelong friendship, mined a fortune of gold.
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Editorial Reviews. Review. “Plenty of incident and colour” ―The Observer, “Pride of Kindle Store; ›; Kindle eBooks; ›; Literature & Fiction. When the Lion Feeds by Wilbur Smith - A Courtney series adventure - Book 1 in the When the Lion Feeds trilogyA Courtney series adventure: When the Lion. He began life at his twin brother's side, soon running wild on his father's ranch on the edge of Africa. But violence, desire, and fate sent Sean Courtney into.
They carried their throwing sticks ready and moved forward a stealthy pace at a time, fighting to control their breathing. Tinker found the bird crouched flat in the grass; he jumped forward giving tongue for the first time, and the bird rose. It came up fast on noisy wings, whirling out of the grass. Sean threw; his kerrie whipped past it.
The pheasant swung away from the stick, clawing at the air with frantic wings and Garrick threw. The bird toppled, feathers flurried from it and it fell. They went after it.
The pheasant scurried broken-winged through the grass ahead of them, and they shouted with excitement as they chased it. Sean got a hand to it. He broke its neck and stood laughing, holding the warm brown body in his hands, and waited for Garrick to reach him. Tinker snuffled it, then tried to take it in his mouth, but Sean pushed his head away and tossed the bird to Garrick. Garrick hung it with the others on his belt. Sean pushed the hair off his forehead with the back of his hand, his hair was black and soft and it kept falling into his eyes.
That was twice as far. You threw first. How come you missed, hey? He took a step backwards. It was not quite clear to Garrick on what Sean wished to bet, but from past experience he knew that whatever it was the issue would be settled by single combat.
Garrick seldom won bets from Sean.
Sean trotted after him, caught up with him and passed him. Sean always led. Having proved conclusively his superior prowess with the throwing sticks Sean was prepared to be forgiving.
They kept running: except for an hour, when they had stopped in a shady place by the river to roast and eat a couple of their pheasants, they had run all day. Up here on the plateau it was grassland that rose and fell beneath them as they climbed the low round hills and dropped into the valleys. The grass around them moved with the wind: waist-high grass, soft dry grass the colour of ripe wheat. Behind them and on each side the grassland rolled away to the full range of the eye, but suddenly in front of them was the escarpment.
The land cascaded down into it, steeply at first then gradually levelling out to become the Tugela flats. The Tugela river was twenty miles away across the flats, but today there was a haze in the air so they could not see that far. Beyond the river, stretched far to the north and a hundred miles east to the sea, was Zululand. The river was the border. The steep side of the escarpment was cut by vertical gulleys and in the gulleys grew dense, olive-green bush.
Below them, two miles out on the flats, was the homestead of Theunis Kraal. The house was a big one, Dutch-gabled and smoothly thatched with combed grass. Sean stopped on the rim of the escarpment and sat down in the grass. He took hold of one of his grimy bare feet and twisted it up into his lap. There was hole in the ball of his heel from which he had pulled a thorn earlier in the day and now it was plugged with dirt.
Garrick sat down next to him. I bet you yell — I bet you yell your head off! He picked a stalk of grass and started probing it into the wound.
Garrick watched with interest. Twins could scarcely have been less alike. Sean was already taking on the shape of a man: his shoulders were thickening, and there was hard muscle forming in his puppy fat.
His colouring was vivid: black hair, skin brown from the sun, lips and cheeks that glowed with the fresh young blood beneath their surface, and blue eyes, the dark indigo-blue of cloud shadow on mountain lake. Garrick was slim, with the wrists and ankles of a girl.
His hair was an undecided brown that grew wispy down the back of his neck, his skin was freckled, his nose and the rims of his pale blue eyes were pink with persistent hay fever. Garrick lifted his head and looked down the slope. A little below where they were sitting was the head of one of the bushy gullies. Garrick caught his breath. Then he saw it.
Sean was too absorbed to answer.
The bushbuck was picking its way warily out of the thick cover. A big ram, black with age; the spots on his haunches were faded like old chalk marks. His ears pricked up and his spiral horns held high, big as a pony, but stepping daintily, he came out into the open.
He stopped and swung his head from side to side, searching for danger, then he trotted diagonally down the hill and disappeared into another of the gullies. For a moment after he had gone the twins were still, then they burst out together. He barked around them in a circle. After the first few moments of confusion Sean took control simply by raising his voice above the opposition.
I bet he stays there all day and comes out only at night.
The ground was trampled by his hooves and scattered with his droppings and there was the mark of his body where he had lain. A few loose hairs, tipped with grey, were left on the bed of leaves. Sean knelt down and picked one up. There was silence while both of them considered the amount of labour involved in digging a trap.
Neither of them mentioned the idea again.
When it finished sticking him they had to push all his guts back into the hole in his stomach! Sean lay in the darkness and stared across the room at the grey oblong of the window. There was a slice of moon in the sky outside. Sean could not sleep: he was thinking about the bushbuck. He heard his parents pass the door of the bedroom; his stepmother said something and his father laughed: Waite Courtney had a laugh as deep as distant thunder. Sean heard the door of their room close and he sat up in bed.
We could take the shotgun and go lay for that old inkonka. Garrick lay rigid in his bed, searching for words. He could almost feel the sjambok curling round his buttocks, and hear his father counting the strokes: eight, nine, ten.
The decision had been made. Waite Courtney handed his wife up into the front seat of the buggy. He was a big man, the buggy dipped under his weight as he climbed up into the seat. He gathered up the reins, then he turned and his eyes laughed over his great hooked nose at the twins standing together on the veranda.
That really frightens the hell out of me! Sean was carrying the shotgun across one shoulder, hanging onto the butt with both hands.
Garrick was bold again: with every yard put between him and the house his fear of reprisal faded. When you found the baby duiker, I let you feed it. In order to win the argument Garrick would have to get it away from him — this Garrick knew and he started to sulk. Sean stopped among the trees at the foot of the escarpment and looked over his shoulder at his brother.
He sniffed wetly; his hayfever was always bad in the mornings. When you finish counting come up the gulley. Start shouting when you are about halfway up. The inkonka will break the same way as yesterday — all right? Sean grabbed his collar, and Garrick slipped it on. Tinker laid his ears flat and looked at them reproachfully. That old inkonka will rip him up. He kept well out to the left of the gulley. The grass on the slope was slippery under his feet, the gun was heavy and there were sharp lumps of rock in the grass.
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Please enter the message. Please verify that you are not a robot. Would you also like to submit a review for this item? You already recently rated this item. Your rating has been recorded. Write a review Rate this item: Preview this item Preview this item. When the lion feeds Author: Wilbur A Smith Publisher: New York: Martin's paperbacks edition View all editions and formats Summary: In a place called The Ridge of White Waters, Sean made a lifelong friendship, mined a fortune of gold, and met his own demons.
Then an act of cunning betrayal struck--and ignited a new adventure to a new frontier. Show all links. Allow this favorite library to be seen by others Keep this favorite library private.
Find a copy in the library Finding libraries that hold this item Print version: Smith, Wilbur A. When the lion feeds. Document, Fiction, Internet resource Document Type: Wilbur A Smith Find more information about: Wilbur A Smith. Reviews User-contributed reviews Add a review and share your thoughts with other readers. Be the first. Add a review and share your thoughts with other readers.