Journey to the mountain.
552 Words
The following morning Grandpa knocked on my bedroom door, very early in the morning. At first I was very astonished wondering for how long I be sleeping.
However it wasn't a morning like any other, Old lady had also woken up to prepare some breakfast, maybe at the Kings command.
Grandpa had loaded out the contents of his store. Many paramilitary equipments were lying outside the store, most of which he had acquired after world war two.
Some of the equipments included maps, Compass, hill climb hooks, etc. From what I could see with my eyes, I could make up that we were headed for a hike. Grandpa's suprises were unending because I couldn't recall him telling me of any of the plans.
" What are you up to Papa?" I interrogated.
" I want you to go and get those two white ponies, today I am gonna take you on a ride to the past,"He shot out an order, ignoring my question.
I obeyed and walked towards the stable to get out the ponies. In my head I was all trying to comprehend the weight of his words. I had heard of time travel but my thoughts never had an idea that it would occur to me. My spirits were high to know what awaited me in the journey.
We parked up our belongings so neatly. World war II skills were very important in the task of packaging the necessities. Otherwise it would have taken me ages for I alone to complete the task.
I climbed up on the back of my horse as old Jack struggled with his. We rode northward towards Kirinyaga mountain.
"Do you hear of old Moses camp," Grandpa asked.
"I heard one of my tutors speak about it someday. Infact we were to visit on a trip but the politicing of this world denied us the opportunity," I boldly answered.
At this moment we were riding at per.
"Now listen, You just about to know the secrets of our beginning. Only Kings should know about it and keep it secret for the rest of their lives. I am among the few guards of the secret and I wanna let you inherit my secrets and guard them with all your zeal and zest." he said.
At this moment I was muffled by his level of parabolic language. Of course his talking was always a puzzle to be solved by I, his royal listener. He could flip in new ideas into my thoughts even before I could comprehend his thoughts.
We came to a path marked with pedestals above the ground. He told me so many tales of when the flag of our land was being erected on the mountain of Kirinyaga. He told me the pedestals marked the path Munyaû the great had followed for the love his people and his nation.
We had already climbed a third of the mountain when we alighted our ponies to take our lunch. Grandpa took out two large disshes of pondered yams. He also had placed on my plate a large piece of choma meat and it was time to enjoy as a larger pie of the journey remained.
After the feast was over we climbed up the remaining piece of the journey until we came to the cave of morogolo.
- Writer
