There was a little opening in the wall. Fred, who was chewing noisily, faced the source of the aroma. “Friends, I think the smell is from there!” he told the other ants, pointing at the wall. They had no choice but to stare at the cracked wall, for no doubt the smell was from there. However, they ignored the smell for the moment and faced the meal on the table as if their very survival depended upon how much they ate at present.
As they ate silently under the shadow of bad weather, Philip cleared his throat. He tapped Bojo on the shoulder and asked, “What do we do now?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“This is not the best of times. So we should better watch and pray because the days are evil,” Bojo suggested. He lowered his head and continued to eat.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Philip retorted angrily. “I hope you know that this meal on the table is the last meal we may have for some time!”
Bojo straightened his chin and exchanged a glance with Philip. “Don’t get me wrong, Philip. Our hands are tied. Apart from the bad weather, the humans are not helping matters,” he replied with a voice that was as soft as a whisper.
“What do the humans have to do with this?” Philip asked and sat up.
Bojo cleared his throat and said, “There is a constant overflow of the dam at the other side of the forest. And I think the humans channel that water to the forest to reduce the damage the flood would cause them. And if I am not mistaken, the rainy season is when the dam always overflows. So it is not safe to venture into the forest now. Though it is a beautiful thing to live in luxury and have food on your table at the snap of a finger, I cannot risk my life!” After his oratory, he coughed a bit and frowned, as if he’d fallen from a tree.
“Bojo, you have a point, but Philip is right,” Fred cut in. “We can take the risk if we dare. But if you are afraid of dying, then stay behind.”
Paul, one of the ants that had been calm as the still water, now spoke: “Neither the dam nor the bad weather is an excuse for us to die of hunger! The farmer that observes the weather may never sow his seeds. How many times have we snatched victory from the obvious jaws of defeat?” He looked at everyone at the table. “As far as I’m concerned, the meal in the forest is more important than any obstacle out there. If it is God’s will, we will survive and return to the anthill safely.”
Bojo took a deep breath. He cast a glance at Paul and they both smiled. “You have all spoken well. Preparing for a rainy day is not building castles in the air. I will die in battle. Of that I’m certain. I just hope we can finish the meal on our table before we move.”
“Yes, by the time we are finished with our meal, surviving the forest will be the least of our worries, because food gives strength,” Philip replied with a smile.
CHAPTER 2
Rumble in the Jungle
Once the meal was eaten, Philip and the other ants prepared to storm the forest. One after the other, they set off in file behind Philip who seemed to be optimistic that they would find the dead creature and would not return to the anthill empty handed. Yet, only time would tell. The night was as dead as a doornail. And it was not the best time to venture into the woods, except for extreme reasons. After walking along winding paths for a long time, always facing in the direction of the smell, the ants finally found the dead creature, which was an antelope behind a tree. But misfortune waited amidst the boughs and leaves.
It was determined that the antelope must have died from bullet wounds at the hands of people who hunt animals for food. Philip and his friends had a good sniff around to make sure that no one was lurking. After determining that there was nothing to fear in the woods, they heaved a sigh of relief, for it was time to get down to work. One after the other, the ants bit a large chunk of meat off and made their way in single file along the bush paths back to the anthill.
As soon as they got to the anthill, Bojo rushed to Philip and said, “Phil, we need more hands.”
“So what do you suggest?” Philip asked and crossed his arm over his body.
“We have ants that are now robust due to months of inactivity; getting them involved in this work will certainly put them in shape.”
Philip spoke softly, “You are right. I have also given it thought. But I still have a feeling of caution for the forest. So, I want to control the risk. To do so, it would be advisable to venture into the forest with fewer ants.”
Bojo pondered his words and said, “Well, your approach is a wise one. Let’s see how things pan out at the end of the day.”
Without wasting time, Bojo and Philip joined the other ants at the door and faded into the night to continue the task where they had left it. They worked as if there was no tomorrow. After five trips in the midst of the silent night, they were finally greeted by a sad tale. As the ants mounted the antelope to grab what they could carry to their camp, they were alerted by a sound that was like a rushing wind. “What is that?” Philip enquired. He raised his head and looked about.
“I don’t know,” Bojo said. “But it’s like a rushing wind!”
“Wind? You must be joking, Bojo. We would have been swept off our feet by now,” Paul told the others and giggled.
Fred heaved. “It means no harm. It is one of those things that hide in the shadows of a dark night. Let us forget about it and continue our business,” he said.
“I disagree. We must find out what is lurking. Or we might as well bid the world farewell,” Philip suggested. He jumped down from the dead creature and raced forward to check what had caused the commotion. Philip had covered only a short distance when he saw floodwaters cutting through the forest and advancing towards them. It was a dreadful sight to behold! He gasped and choked. The ant turned and faced back to their camp shouting at the top of his voice, “The dam is overflowing! Run for your lives!”
Even knowing how difficult it was to survive such a peril, Bojo, Fred and Paul did not make the best use of their legs to the anthill. They might be caught in the flood and perish before help would come. In desperation, they climbed one of the mango trees. But Phillip’s six legs betrayed him as he tripped and fell three times. Before he could make it to a tree, the flood had swept him off his feet. He was carried away. Bojo and the other ants had no choice but to remain on the tree until the break of daylight.
CHAPTER 3
The Search
By morning, a new day had come and the forest was as bright as the rising sun. Every living thing was awake to face whatever the day might serve. The birds sang aloud, whistling tunes as if a musical band were performing in a village square. Even as the birds swooped from trees to snatch a bit of breakfast, the beautiful tune was never altered. As the sparrows made the best out of the morning, Bojo and the other ants hid behind giant leaves to make sure they were not seen.
Eventually, they quietly climbed down from the tree. Before the other ants could think what to do, Bojo began walking briskly toward the anthill.
“STOP!” Fred ran after him and asked, “Where are you going?” He placed his hand on Bojo’s shoulder.
Bojo frowned. “Where do you think?” he answered with a question.
“That is the way to the anthill,” Fred replied, pointing in the direction Bojo had faced.
“Yes,” Bojo shrugged, “I know it is the way to the anthill. What is wrong?”
Fred was not happy with the reply. He shook his head and looked straight into Bojo’s eyes. “Something is wrong,” he said. “We must find Philip—whether he is dead or alive!”
Bojo hissed. “Count me out. I won’t risk my life for nothing!” he said and turned to go.
Fred became furious. He grabbed Bojo by the neck and pinned him to a tree. “Bojo! This is all about brotherly love. Philip is lost. And for all you know, it could have been any of us. You must join us to find him!”
“You cannot force me against my wishes, Fred.” He tried to shrug him off but Fred’s grip was firm. Not ready to be lured into further adventures, Bojo hit Fred on the face and they began to excha
nge blows from one end of the forest to the other. Bojo’s blows were like a knife piercing a chicken as he descended on his fellow ant. It was only a matter of time before advantage shifted to one side. Fred lost his balance. His legs betrayed him after a blow landed on his neck. Before he could regain his footing, Bojo had pounced on him. With blows coming down upon Fred like a fierce night rain, Paul rushed to separate the friends. He grabbed Bojo from behind and pulled him towards himself. “STOP THIS, BOJO!” he yelled, “Fighting will lead us nowhere. Fred is right! We must find Philip before it is too late.”
Breathing like a terrified lizard, Paul moved nearer his friend on the forest floor. He held out his hand and helped Fred rise to his feet.
But before their legs could carry them to their destination, a sparrow emerged from the trees and swoop down at Bojo. The bird would have had its way were it not for Fred who shielded them with oak leaves. Missing its target, the sparrow flew round the tree for a while before disappearing into the forest to find its daily bread elsewhere. Happy that the enemy had gone, Bojo took a deep breath and pushed the leaf aside. He fell on Fred and gave him a thousand embraces. “Sorry for the pain I caused you. You have just saved my life. Now I know what you mean by brotherly love,” he said.
Fred placed the sad times on the doorstep of the past and smiled. “What are we friends for? We should do what is right and not what we like!”
“Your words are humbling,” Paul cleared his throat and told Fred. He placed his hand on his shoulder, “We must find Philip whether he is dead or alive.”
Fred nodded. “If we search the forest and do not find him, then I will have a clear conscience. If he is dead, our creator will not hold us accountable for it,” he told his friends. He moved towards the hill where the flood had gathered below. Bojo and Paul had no choice but to join in the search.
CHAPTER 4
Beautiful End
The morning had just faded under the watchful eyes of the ants and still Philip was not found. Wild and free, they could feel the scorching sun. They were sad. After a long walk down the hill and there was nothing to show for it, their world seemed to be growing smaller, and frustration mounted, and the ants began to remember the days they’d had and the songs they’d sung together. Now, there was something missing in their hearts. They felt lonely and pondered the notion that this might be the feeling they would walk with all the rest of their lives. Philip was missing—in body and in their hearts.
In the midst of the confusion, Paul stumbled upon a piece of jewelry that Philip had worn around his neck the night past. He picked up the piece of jewelry that lay on a branch and alerted the others: “Hey, I’ve found something!”
“What is that?” Fred and Bojo chorused as they moved closer.
“It’s from Philip!” Paul replied, holding the jewelry.
Fred inhaled sharply. He felt it and nodded quietly. He looked carefully about and said, “Philip should not be far from here. Keep it safe and let’s go!”
The ants had barely started down the hill when they found Philip unconscious in a hole, the dead antelope a mere pole away from them. Their friend was stuck in some woods. They did not check for bruises and fractures even though there was no way he would not have suffered them. Instead, they set about rescuing Philip from the claws of death as they rushed to the anthill to set him on the path of revival.
Philip was attended to immediately once they reached the anthill, and he slept all day. By the time he awoke, dinner was set. Paul and Bojo helped him to the table where Fred was waiting. After eating quietly for a while, Bojo cleared his throat and said, “Philip, we thought you were dead. How did you find yourself down there?”
Philip swallowed hard and quenched his thirst with a glass of water. He let go a belch and sat up. “When I saw you guys on the tree, I was glad that you were safe. But as for me, it was too late to make such a move. So, I decided to hide near the antelope. Not knowing the distress ahead, or the sorrow that my decision would bring, I clung to the antelope for safety. But it was only a matter of time before my fate was decided. Once the flood came, I was swept off my feet. And it carried us down the hill, the antelope and I tumbling down until it seemed that life had left me.” After the long oratory, Philip lowered his head and continued to eat. Finally, he stopped chewing and turned to his friends to ask, “What about the antelope?”
Fred adjusted and replied, “It has been taken care of. We informed the king about it, and he gladly asked the soldier ants to fetch it into the store house.”
Bojo smiled broadly and cut in, “Not only that. The king was impressed by our bravery. For that reason, he has proclaimed us free ants!”
“He gave us wives. Now you can start your own family,” Paul added, chewing noisily.
“Really?” Philip tried to hide a smile as he looked at them.
“Yes, of course. Your wife is waiting for you in your room!” Fred told Philip, “She will help you recover fast, and you will never have a dull moment.”
Philip was excited about what he had and they were all happy their friend had not tasted a bitter death. However, the soldier ants worked hard all night and filled the entire store in the anthill with the antelope meat, which would last the colony an entire season! It is good to save for a rainy day. It is not always easy to do, but if we learn from one another, and work hard, we will never be left wanting.
THE COUNTRY BOY
CHAPTER 1
Otok the Hunter
My favorite meal is a roasted bird and two slices of bread plus a cup of lemon tea. I don’t eat them often because birds are hard to hunt. I could have a bird in my cage and no bread and tea on my table. The reason is simple. My grandmother decides what the family eats everyday. So, I only eat my favorite meal by chance. However, to take advantage of any opportunity, I always prepare for a rainy day. Sometimes I go on a long journey to hunt birds in the field. As a little hunter, trained by my grandfather, setting a trap is as easy as yawning at the dawn of a new day. I hunt almost everyday because I don’t know when my grandmother will decide we eat only bread and tea. To say the least, a feeling of joy runs through my veins each time I roast a bird.
Whenever I am in the field, I keep an eye on the traps, just as a mother hen protects her chicks against the hawk. It is wise to do so because it is like watching over eggs in a basket. Going from one end of the field to the other to see if my traps have caught a bird is exciting.
Sometimes I worked all day to get birds. But this time none came close to my traps; apparently they were not ready to be prey. To make matters worse, the birds were simply hopping around my traps, as if they knew the trouble that would befall them if they came close. In the midst of the confusion, my mind began to work. I speculated that the birds knew that I was lurking behind an almond tree. Also, the bits of grain on the traps were not the best, and did not attract the poor creatures. My sadness grew taller than my pair of legs.
CHAPTER 2
Otok and the Birds
I was not lost, but I knew that the chances of having my way were very slim. Apart from my empty traps that were scattered about on the field like the pastures clothed with flocks, there was no weapon worth grabbing that I could use on the birds. As my desperation grew, I moved away from the almond tree. Destroying one of my traps, I meant to use the stake as a weapon. Before the birds could blink, I was already in the chase, wielding the big stick as if there were no tomorrow. Sensing danger, the birds flew in every direction, making it difficult for me to concentrate on any of them.
As a little hunter, my grandfather taught me how important it is to have an aim, and to know the target even in the midst of many animals. So I was not bothered as the birds faced different directions. My legs did not betray me as I raced across the field. Before I could blink, I had traveled very far over the field, chasing creatures that might never be mine.
What kept me in the chase was that there were no tall trees around. The nearest one was the almond tree behind me, and I had a good di
stance to cover before I reached the forest. So I kept running as the birds went in different directions.
Finally, I was able to catch one of them. I heaved a sigh of relief, because it was only a matter of time now before my favorite meal would be on my table. But as I smiled broadly, I noticed that the bird that I had just caught was a small creature that was just learning how to fly. My countenance fell because I’d caught the wrong bird. By the time I raised my head to continue the chase, the birds had all disappeared into the forest, leaving me with only the poor bird in my grasp. Battling with my poor effort, my gaze stumbled upon the wandering clouds. The sky was gloomy, as if it wanted to rain. Nevertheless, it was too late for me to remain in the field. So I grabbed hold of the little sparrow and faced my home with a good speed.
CHAPTER 3
Grandma
The evening was not one to celebrate. I had just covered a good distance when the windows of heaven opened and it began to rain hard on the poor earth. With nothing better to do, I made the best use of my legs and was glad that I reached home before it was too late. I was glad to find myself in my room again. Without wasting time, I put aside the cage with the little sparrow and quickly changed my clothes. I had barely finished dressing when my door opened and my grandmother walked in. Clearing her throat, she asked a simple question: “Otok, where have you been?”
“I went to check my traps,” I replied.
She smiled a little and said, “You will never stop checking your traps, Otok. Let this be the last time you will leave this house without informing anyone. By the way, I hope you had a good day.” Her voice was as soft as a whisper.
The City Heroes Page 3
