The Last Leopard Read Online Free Page A

arched over it.
    “Rainbow Ridge!” said Ben, hanging out of the window with excitement. “You can’t see it from here, but beyond it is one of the highest waterfalls in Southern Africa. That’s where we’re going this afternoon, Martine. That’s what we’re going to climb.”
    In the front seat of the Land Rover, Martine, who wasn’t a fan of heights or strenuous activity—not unless it involved giraffes—gave an involuntary shudder.

    The campsite they were staying in was situated in a secluded valley well off the beaten track, so they were surprised to find a buzzing throng of people around the reception desk. A photographer was snapping away and autograph hunters were circling. Gradually the crowd cleared to reveal two bearded young men in climbing gear. They had the healthy suntanned skin of outdoorsmen. A whispered inquiry revealed that they were Red West and Jeff Grant, famous Canadian mountaineers, who were on a tour of South Africa.
    After a lengthy delay, the climbers moved off and their fans dispersed. A flustered receptionist checked Gwyn Thomas and the two children in and gave them keys to the log cabin where they’d be spending the night. She seemed quite overwhelmed by her celebrity guests. “They’re such gentlemen,” she said dreamily, “and so handsome.”
    Gwyn Thomas had difficulty getting her attention again. When she did, the receptionist had bad news. The campsite guides were all booked and there were no more tours to Rainbow Ridge until the following day.
    “But it’s an easy walk and very well signposted,” she said. “As long as they’re sensible, they’ll be fine on their own.”
    “I might be old-fashioned, but I really wouldn’t feel comfortable allowing them to do a three-hour hike through forests and mountains with which I’m not in the least familiar,” was Gwyn Thomas’s tart response. “Unfortunately I’ve been driving for hours and don’t have the energy to accompany them. Martine and Ben, I’m so sorry. Once again, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”
    Martine was about to protest, not for her own sake but for Ben’s, when the receptionist became all starry-eyed again.
    “Excuse me, ma’am.”
    They turned to see the taller of the two mountaineers. He introduced himself as Red.
    “Forgive me for butting in,” he said to Gwyn Thomas in a Canadian accent, “but I couldn’t help overhearing your dilemma and I wonder if my climbing partner Jeff and I might be able to offer our services. If Vicky here would be kind enough to vouch for us, we’d be glad to accompany these young people to Rainbow Ridge. We’re on our way to the summit of the mountain range above it, so it’s on our way. We won’t be able to walk back with them, but we’ll be able to show them the route.”
    Vicky blushed furiously and was not able to give a coherent response, but a journalist who’d interviewed the climbers earlier assured Gwyn Thomas that Red and Jeff were men of impeccable character. He and the campsite manager persuaded her that Martine and Ben would be in safe hands.
    Soon Martine and Ben were hiking through a pine forest with two of the world’s most accomplished mountaineers, listening openmouthed as Red and Jeff told stories about their epic climbs of the highest summits on seven continents.
    “Which was the hardest?” asked Ben.
    “Denali in Alaska,” Red replied without hesitation. “There is something about hanging off an ice cliff in a minus-forty-degree wind that is uniquely terrifying.”
    The track to Rainbow Ridge was, as the receptionist had promised, a straightforward and well-signposted one, but after an hour of trying to keep up with the long strides of the mountaineers, Martine’s leg muscles were screaming. She was thankful when they passed a picnic spot and Jeff declared himself starving.
    “And I could do with a cup of coffee,” Red agreed. Martine suspected that they were only stopping for her and Ben, but she was not about to