Gold Mine

( 17 )

Overview

"Your unquestioning obedience. You will be my man." Such is Manfred's demand when he offers Rod Ironsides the general managership of the Sonder Ditch gold mine. For Rod, ambitious and hard-living, it is the chance of a lifetime. Manfred is neurotic and ruthless, already despising Rod. When Manfred discovers Rod's passion for his wife, icy dislike turns to mortal hatred.

Neither Rod or Manfred understands that they are both involved in a more significant drama. They have become the unwitting tools of a group of ...

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Gold Mine

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Overview

"Your unquestioning obedience. You will be my man." Such is Manfred's demand when he offers Rod Ironsides the general managership of the Sonder Ditch gold mine. For Rod, ambitious and hard-living, it is the chance of a lifetime. Manfred is neurotic and ruthless, already despising Rod. When Manfred discovers Rod's passion for his wife, icy dislike turns to mortal hatred.

Neither Rod or Manfred understands that they are both involved in a more significant drama. They have become the unwitting tools of a group of powerful men who, for personal and political gain, plan to destroy the largest gold mine in the world.

"Here is a brilliant, exciting reconstruction of life in the gold mine, paralyzing disasters, ingenious gold-filching, violent people and the irresistible magnetism of the gold itself." Publisher's Source

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"An epic...Smith joins the ranks of one of the grand masters of twentieth-century novels."—Tulsa World

 

'I can recommend an extremely readable new novel, Gold Mine ... Mr. Smit&hgrave;s story is packed with action and excitement, and it surges along in crisp stile.' – Sunday Express

 

Praise for Wilbur Smith

“Smith is a master.” —Publishers Weekly

“One of the world’s most popular adventure writers.” —The Washington Post Book World

“A rare author who wields a razor-sharp sword of craftsmanship.” —Tulsa World

“Wilbur Smith is one of those benchmarks against whom others are compared.” —The Times (UK)      

"Best Historical Novelist—I say Wilbur Smith, with his swashbuckling novels of Africa.  The bodices of rip and the blood flows.  You can get lost in Wilbur Smith and misplace all of August."—Stephen King

"Action is Wilur Smith's game, and he is a master."—The Washington Post Book World

“The world’s leading adventure writer.” —Daily Express (UK)

"Wilbur Smith rarely misses a trick."—Sunday Times

“Smith is a captivating storyteller.” —The Orlando Sentinel

“No one does adventure quite like Smith.” —Daily Mirror (UK)

"A thundering good’ read is virtually the only way of describing Wilbur Smith’s books.” —The Irish Times

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780749324414
  • Publisher: Elsevier Science & Technology Books
  • Publication date: 6/28/1996
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 450

Meet the Author

Wilbur Smith is the bestselling author of many novels, each meticulously researched on his numerous expeditions worldwide. His bestselling Courtney series includes Assegai, The Sound of Thunder, Birds of Prey, Monsoon, and Blue Horizon. His other books include Those in Peril, River God, Warlock, The Seventh Scroll, and The Sunbird. His books are now translated into twenty-six languages and have sold over 120 million copies. Smith was born to a British family in Northern Rhodesia, now Zambia, in Central Africa, and attended Rhodes University in South Africa. He has homes in Cape Town, London, Switzerland and Malta.

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Read an Excerpt

1

It began in the time when the world was young, in the time before man, in the time before life itself had evolved upon this planet.

The crust of the earth was still thin and soft, distorted and riven by the enormous pressures from within.

What is now the flat, compacted shield of the African continent, stable and unchanging, was a series of alps. It was range upon range of mountains, thrown up and tumbled down by the movements of the magma at great depth. These were mountains such as man has never seen, so massive as to dwarf the Himalayas, mountains of steaming rock from whose clefts and gaping wounds the molten magma trickled.

It came up from the earth’s centre along the fissures and weak places in the crust, bubbling and boiling, yet cooling steadily as it neared the surface so that the least volatile minerals were deposited deeper down, but those with a lower melting point were carried to the surface.

At one point in the measureless passage of time, another series of these fissures opened upon one of the nameless mountain ranges, but from them gushed rivers of molten gold. Some natural freak of temperature and chemical change had resulted in a crude but effective process of refinement during the journey to the earth’s surface. The gold was in high concentration in the matrix, and it cooled and solidified at the surface.

If the mountains of that time were so massive as to challenge the imagination of man, then the storms of wind and rain that blew around them were of equal magnitude.

It was a hellish landscape in which the gold field was conceived, cruel mountains reaching stark and sheer in the clouds. Cloud banks dark with the sulphurous gases of the belching earth, so thick that the rays of the sun never penetrated them.

The atmosphere was laden with all the moisture that was to become the seas, so heavy with it that it rained in one perpetual wind-lashed storm upon the hot rock of the cooling earth, then the moisture rose in steam to condense and fall again.

As the years passed by their millions, so the wind and the rain whittled away at the nameless mountain range with its coating of gold-rich ore, grinding it loose and carrying it down in freshets and rivers and rushes of mud and rock into the valley between this range and the next.

Now as the country rock cooled, so the waters lay longer upon the earth before evaporating, and they accumulated in this valley to form a lake the size of an inland sea.

Into this lake poured the storm waters from the golden mountains, carrying with them tiny particles of the yellow metal which settled with other sand and quartz gravel upon the lake bed, to be compacted into a solid sheet.

In time all the gold was scoured from the mountains, transported and laid down upon the lake beds.

Then, as happened every ten million years or so, the earth entered another period of intense seismic activity. The earth shuddered and heaved as earthquake after mammoth earthquake convulsed it.

One fearsome paroxysm cracked the bed of the lake from end to end draining it and fracturing the sedimentary beds, scattering fragments haphazardly so that great sheets of rock many miles across tilted and reared on end.

Again and again the earthquakes gripped and shook the earth. The mountains tottered and collapsed, filling the valley where the lake had stood, burying some of the sheets of gold-rich rock, pulverizing others.

That cycle of seismic activity passed, and the ages wheeled on in their majesty. The floods and the great droughts came and receded. The miraculous spark of life was struck and burned up brightly, through the time of the monstrous reptiles, on through countless twists and turns of evolution until near the middle of the Pleistocene age a man-ape – Australopithecus – picked up the thigh bone of a buffalo from beside an outcrop of rock to use it as a weapon, a tool.

Australopithecus stood at the centre of a flat, sun-seared plateau that reached five hundred miles in each direction to the sea, for the mountains and the lake beds had long ago been flattened and buried.

Eight hundred thousand years later, one of the Australopithecus’ distant but direct line stood at the same spot with a tool in his hand. The man’s name was Harrison and the tool was more sophisticated than that of his ancestor, it was a prospector’s pick of wood and metal.

Harrison stooped and chipped at the outcrop of rock that protruded from the dry brown African earth. He freed a piece of the stone and straightened with it in his hand.

He held it to catch the sun and grunted with disgust. It was a most uninteresting piece of stone, conglomerate, marbled black and grey. Without hope he held it to his mouth and licked it, wetting the surface before again holding it to the sun, an old prospectors’ trick to highlight the metal in the ore.

His eyes narrowed in surprise as the tiny golden flecks in the rock sparkled back at him.

History remembers only his name, not his age nor his antecedents, not the colour of his eyes nor how he died, for within a month he had sold his claim for £10 and disappeared – in search, perhaps, of a really big strike.

He might have done better to retain his title to those claims.

In the eighty years since then an estimated five hundred million ounces of fine gold have been recovered from the fields of the Transvaal and Orange Free State. This is a fraction of that which remains, and which in time will be taken from the earth. For the men who mine the South African fields are the most patiently persistent, inventive and pig-headed of all Vulcan’s brood.

This mass of precious metal is the foundation on which the prosperity of a vigorous young nation of eighteen million souls is based.

Yet the earth yields her treasure reluctantly – men must coax and wrest it from her.

Copyright © Wilbur Smith 1970.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 17 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(12)

4 Star

(2)

3 Star

(1)

2 Star

(2)

1 Star

(0)

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Sort by: Showing 1 – 15 of 17 Customer Reviews
  • Posted September 7, 2011

    An Eye Opener

    What an adventure it was to read about the way gold is mined and how international conglomerates control it and with it the world! Loved to read it.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted February 21, 2012

    Highly recommended

    Wilbur Smith's books are always enjoyable and well researched.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 4, 2014

    Skybreeze

    *Looks up at the sky* "i have to go you will meet my little one tomrow" *she vanishes in the air.*

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 5, 2014

    SilverClaw

    Wait what do you meen meet him/her tommorow? Please dont leave!!!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted February 8, 2013

    Gold Mine

    Wilbur Smith has written many books and when i can't find a new one , I read one that I have already read. He's the best writer alive.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 29, 2012

    Everdawn

    Im sorry glimmerstar but i cant leave u alone and there rnt ny herbs close by so borage and this stick is all we have. Its basically all u need

    0 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 25, 2012

    To glimmerstar or goldenclaw

    My name is Pantherstorm and im a battle ready tom who is in need of a clan. Thanks-Pantherstorm plz replt

    0 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 23, 2012

    Gokdenstar

    Im back.

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2012

    Jaggedrock skyjump fireblaze or poolrush

    Chose one

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2012

    Nightkit

    She rolled her electric blue eyes, and padded away, p'd of because of the fact shes being ignored. She disapeared into the nursery. -Nightkit

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 11, 2012

    Glimmerstar

    "Then ill go to aother camp for help." She grunted trying to keep her kits in

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 2, 2012

    Fallowkit

    Its fallowkit. I just want to stay with rainkit. *fluffs up her fur defensively* We're siblings, u know.

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 26, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 19, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted March 2, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing 1 – 15 of 17 Customer Reviews

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