by J. T. Edson
Having brought the two ghe ca voms to a stop, the kedge anchor handlers stood in silence. They were all youngish, with what should have been friendly faces and yet they seemed both shy and ill-at-ease. None of them offered to speak. Instead, they had looked to where three men out of the second boat had started to wade ashore. Nobody else had followed the quintet.
In the lead of the delegation had been the only man whose skull was not completely bald. Clad in the flowing white robes of a village Elder, he had a veritable mane of white hair and an unpleasantly sour cast of features which had exuded a self-righteous and sanctimonious aura. Unlike every other Telonga of the Earth couple’s acquaintance, who always endeavored to keep their attire clean, his garment was grubby beyond what might have been expected from a journey in a boat. He alone had been unarmed, and he announced that he was Tik-Felum, the senior Elder, in tones that implied he considered nothing further need be said to establish his superior status. Then, without waiting for any acknowledgement, he had presented the men who had followed him ashore. Two of them were his sons. All had on loincloths made from the beautiful dark brown hides of sea otters (which none of the other occupants of the ghe ca voms had been wearing) encircled by leather belts. From these, at the left side, hung wooden handled swords which had proved to have the undulating blades with the hook-like bělalaigaja of the Javanese dapur bener kris.
Deneb-Ginwe, the elder of the sons, had a skull which bulged over a face that tapered to a thin and weak chin. His expression was modeled upon that of his father. Nor was his sibling, Han-Ateep, any more prepossessing: Something under six foot in height and like the rest of his family having a far from impressive physique, he had also shared their attitude of arrogant self importance.
Not quite as tall, the other two were more thickset and heavily built. Clean shaven and domineering looking, Sraat-Challig had the air of a truculent bully and was slightly the larger of the two. Exceeding the other in weight, Jomus-Takn had a massive mustache which made him look pompous without relieving the glint of real cruelty in his close-set and piggy little eyes. Hanging from the right side of his belt was a carefully folded fishing net made of slender and weighted cords.
‘So these are the famous “Earths” who have come to change our way of life, are they?’ Tik-Felum had asked, making no attempt to address Dawn and Bunduki.
‘They are our friends,’ At-Vee had replied coldly.
‘The Telonga nation have never had the need to make outsiders their friends,’ Tik-Felum had stated pompously. ‘We see no need for it to start happening now.’
‘That’s because the People-Taker never reached the Wurka-Telonga village,’ Joar-Fane had put in hotly. ‘If he had, and had done what he did to the people in our village, you would have welcomed the friendship of Dawn and Bunduki of the “Earths”.’
‘It seems that other things have changed for the worse among the Jey-Mat Telongas,’ Tik-Felum had growled, taking in the girl’s hostile attitude and the way in which she was dressed. No other woman of their people had ever dared to speak so forthrightly to him. ‘I shall have much to say to the Elders of your village, Hunter.’
‘Talk is what the Elders always do best,’ At-Vee had answered off-handedly.
‘We all don’t just talk!’ Jomus-Takn had injected, with a threatening scowl which had warned that he was looking for trouble.
‘Look there!’ Han-Ateep had almost yelped, before any more could be said, pointing to the tree house. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before!’
‘The “Suppliers” have built it for our home,’ Bunduki had explained, seeing that the other four were equally impressed by the sight. ‘We “Earths” are well favored by them.’
The quintet had exchanged worried glances and the truculence had left the burly pair to be replaced by a lack of ease. They had regarded the tree house as a sign that the ‘Suppliers’ were not averse to the changes proposed by the ‘Earths’. Saying that his party would continue their journey to Jey-Mat, Tik-Felum had turned and strode rapidly away. Nor had his sons been dilatory in following his lead, but had almost scuttled along on his heels. Although Jomus-Takn and Sraat-Challig had tried to comport themselves with indifference, they too had departed with more haste than they had come ashore. Once they were all aboard, the anchors were taken in. Then the ghe ca voms had been taken across the lake under the propulsion of their oars until they could pick up the wind.
After their unpleasant visitors had departed, the four young people had returned to the tree house. The Earth couple had attended to the welfare of the quaggas, then they had climbed up to eat a belated lunch. Over the meal, they had learned why the rest of the villages’ populations did not care for the Wurkas. It went beyond their swampland territory having granted them complete immunity from the attentions of the Mun-Gatahs’ People-Taker. Because of their comparative isolation, they had developed a number of behavior patterns and habits which their less favored fellows found distasteful in the extreme. For one thing, although they had never offered to take up arms on behalf of the rest of their nation—the ‘Suppliers’ having conditioned them to avoid the other villages at times when the abductions were taking place—their aggressive ways and a proclivity for picking fights had not endeared them to the non-hunting fraternity. Nor had the hunters developed any greater liking for them.
Dawn and Bunduki had learned something about the quintet who had come ashore from Joar-Fane and At-Vee. The only son of a rich Wurka family, Tik-Felum had been too idle to adopt the hard working habits by which his parents had acquired their wealth. Instead, he had applied all his intelligence and low cunning to persuade the rest of the population that it would greatly benefit them all if everybody shared the results of their labors with one another. Such an idea had proved particularly attractive to other idlers and loafers. They had done all they could to propagate the scheme and ensure its acceptance.
By the time that those of the Wurkas who were willing to work had started to realize how their efforts were supporting the bone-idle coterie, Tik-Felum had been in a position to keep them under his domination. By a further display of his cunning, he had contrived to restrict the ownership of the very effective dapur bener kris to his supporters. So he, Jomus-Takn and Sraat-Challig had been better armed than the rest of the villagers and could enforce their will upon anybody who tried to oppose it. By such means, they had achieved the ability to wield power without being answerable to anyone other than themselves and, according to the Hunter, were said to make the most of it.
Even before they had heard the Telonga couple’s story, the girl and the blond giant had not been enamored of the five Wurkas. Being aware of the effect men with similar philosophies had had on Earth, they had seen no reason to revise their points of view. All in all, they had come to regard Tik-Felum and the other four with anything but favor. While the aggressive spirit of the other Wurkas could have been turned to the Telonga nation’s benefit, they had known the quintet would be opposed to it being utilized for such a purpose.
Putting the matter of the Wurkas from their thoughts at the end of the meal, the two young couples had descended from the tree house. Collecting and saddling the quaggas, Dawn and Bunduki had returned with them to the sandy beach. After another session of ‘water breaking’ apiece, in which the animals’ struggles had been somewhat less protracted than on the first occasions, they had decided to call it a day as far as the training was concerned. So, leading Isabel and Shambulia back to the corral, they had made all secure for the night. Setting off for the village, they had arrived shortly after sundown to find the visitors were being entertained with typical Telonga hospitality.
It had soon become apparent to the blond giant that Tik-Felum’s coterie had spread a warning to the other Wurkas that he was to be considered non persona grata. According to Tav-Han, before Tik-Felum had arrived, the rest of the newcomers had been expressing interest in his ideas for defending their nation’s territory; but would change the subject if any of the quintet had
come near. What was more, when Bunduki had approached a group, the Wurkas who were present had showed they were ill-at-ease and had stopped talking until he left. So, when the food was ready to be served, all he had learned about them was that they used bows and shilvas as adjuncts to the fishing which brought in the majority of their sustenance and that, while they had light, barbed throwing spears, they did not employ the heavy variety with which the hunters of the jungle villages tackled leopards, jaguars and even, on rare occasions, tigers.
The blond giant had gone into Tav-Han’s house to pay his compliments to his future ‘mother-in-law’ shortly before Deneb-Ginwe made the demand for service. If he had been present, he could have warned the Wurka that such conduct where Dawn was concerned was most ill advised. Of course, if Bunduki had been in the vicinity, the surly and far from courageous Deneb-Ginwe would have thought twice before addressing the ‘Earths’ girl in the manner he always employed when dealing with the distaff side of his own race.
Even if Dawn had liked the surly Wurka, she would have objected to the manner in which he had addressed her. As she did not like him, she felt disinclined to accept his bad manners. Looking as if butter would not melt in her mouth, she deliberately poured the bowl of stew into his lap.
‘You clumsy bitch!’ Deneb-Ginwe shrieked, bounding to his feet with rage suffusing his unpleasant features. Not only was the food very hot, but the laughter that arose from the onlookers added to his humiliation. A quick glance around informed him that the big white haired “Earth” was nowhere to be seen. So he whipped his arm around, meaning to slap the girl across the face, continuing, I’ll teach you—’
At which point, the Wurka learned that there was a major difference between Dawn of the ‘Earths’ and a Telonga woman. The latter would either have mildly accepted the blow, or dodged it and fled. Not so the spirited foreign girl.
While Dawn ducked so that the man’s hand passed harmlessly over her head, she made no attempt to flee. Instead, she thrust forward her left arm to ram its clenched fist with some force just below his breastbone. The blow was hard enough to drive him back a few steps and fold him at the waist. Breathless obscenities bubbled from him as he came to a halt. On the point of returning and attacking her, he became aware that the girl was showing no fear. He also noticed the extremely competent way in which she was facing him with her hands still folded into hard little fists-and observed something else!
Ready, willing and very capable of defending herself further, Dawn suddenly felt her arms being encircled at the biceps and pinned to her sides from behind.
It was not loyalty that prompted Han-Ateep to go to his brother’s aid but his own bullying nature. Usually he was far too self-centered to help anybody, but he was also just intelligent enough to appreciate the danger of letting disrespect for one of his family go unpunished. However, having for once acted without being told, in what—from the family’s point of view—was a laudable fashion, he found himself in the same position as the man who caught a tiger by the tail and found that it would not let him go.
At her first indication of what was happening, Dawn’s reaction was instantaneous and effective. Her training in the Japanese fighting art of karate in which—as in ju-jitsu—she was a third dan black belt, supplied the answer to the entrapment from the rear.
Almost without the need for conscious thought, the girl allowed herself to go limp as if in fear. However, while she convinced Han-Ateep that she was afraid, he failed to oblige by relaxing his grip. So she revised her original intention in a split second. A quick glance downwards allowed her to locate what she wanted. Up and down whipped her left leg, so that her heel landed on top of his right foot with all the force of her shapely, but steel hard calf and thigh muscles impelling it. A yell of pain burst from him and, this time, his arms loosened although without opening completely and releasing her.
Still moving with the same rapidity, Dawn bent her knees a little and flung up both arms with a force that caused those encircling her to rise until they were over her shoulders. Having done so, she slipped her hips slightly to the left and, reversing the direction sharply, she slammed the heel of her clenched fist into his groin. That produced the desired effect. Letting out a croaking moan, Han-Ateep stumbled away from her with his hands clasping at that portion of the male anatomy most vulnerable to such an attack.
Liberated, Dawn took in the sight of Deneb-Ginwe approaching. His expression gave her all the inducement she needed to continue her defense. Springing to meet him, she rose into the air with an almost balletic grace and delivered a yoko tobi geri, leaping side kick, which sent the ball of her right foot into the center of his chest. He was pitched away from her by the impact, landing winded and helpless flat on his back.
Naturally the altercation had attracted considerable attention among both villagers and visitors. Seeing what was happening to his sons, Tik-Felum came to the same conclusion as Han-Ateep about how allowing such treatment to go unavenged might have an adverse effect on their future position in the tribe. So he threw a meaningful glance at the burly man on either side of him. Sharing his sentiments and not averse to the prospect of manhandling such an attractive girl, Jomus-Takn and Sraat-Challig started to lumber towards her.
Before the mustached Wurka had taken three paces, he heard the rapid patter of bare feet and a snarl as savage as that of a ‘Hairy Man’ from close behind him. Two huge hands closed upon his shoulders in a vastly more powerful grip than he had ever previously encountered. So severe was the crushing force they exerted that his arms went numb. He found himself swung and thrown aside as if he weighed no more than a newly born baby and, as he spun around with no control over his limbs, he saw the white-haired male ‘Earth’ rushing at his companion.
Becoming equally aware of Bunduki’s intervention, Sraat-Challig did not care for what it portended. He had seen how Jomus-Takn was being treated and he considered that a man who was capable of such strength and violence should not be met in barehanded combat. However, massive though the ivory handled knife hanging from the ‘Earth’s’ belt might be, the blade of his kris was almost twice its length and offered him the kind of edge he liked when in a fight.
Among the Wurkas was one of the lesser lights of Tik-Felum coterie, Fiant-Wlip by name. About five foot ten inches tall, lean and with a sharp, viciously miserable face, he was ever an opportunist. Seeing a chance to earn the Senior Elder’s approbation, he dashed forward as Dawn was alighting from the kick. It was his intention to grab hold of her before she was able to regain her balance.
Unfortunately for Sraat-Challig, before he could make use of the kris’s advantages, it had to be drawn. Nor, for all that he had carried the weapon for many years, had he ever taken the trouble and work required to attain anything like the speed with which a competent member of a warrior race could whip a sword from its sheath. Although he did succeed in extracting the weapon, it was nowhere near a position to pose a threat when Bunduki reached him.
Disdaining to soil the blade of his big bowie knife with the blood of such an obviously incompetent person, the blond giant caught Sraat-Challig’s right wrist in both his hands with a grasp no less painful than that he had applied to Jomus-Takn’s shoulders. It proved just as efficacious. The Wurka let out a howl of pain and released the kris as his trapped limb was raised with an irresistible force. Ducking under the arm and swiveling around, he snapped it sharply downwards. Sraat-Challig found his feet were leaving the ground. However, his wrist was released and he contrived to return to earth in an upright position, even though his impetus caused him to stagger several paces away from his big assailant.
Much to Flant-Wlip’s annoyance, Dawn not only alighted before he could reach her, but showed no suggestion of being off balance. To his dismay, neither could he halt his impetuous rush. Catching his outstretched left arm just above the hand in both her powerful little fists, she twirled until her back was towards him. Sinking to her right knee, she propelled him over aided by his own impetus. Letting go
, so that he sailed onwards to come down even more heavily than Deneb-Ginwe had, she rose and gazed about her.
‘Look out behind you, Bunduki!’ Tav-Han bellowed, as the blond giant was about to turn and find out if his wife-to-be needed any help.
Even as the warning was delivered, Bunduki discovered that Jomus-Takn had not been incapacitated.
On coming to a halt without falling, although his shoulders were still hurting, the mustached Wurka snatched the fishing net free from his belt and shook it. Specially folded for the purpose, it spread out to its full extent as he cast it in the blond giant’s direction. Falling over Bunduki’s head, shoulders and arms, the thin strands began to ensnare him. Giving a howl of delight, for every other victim of his skill had been easy meat once caught in the meshes, Jomus-Takn ran back in the direction from which he had been propelled. What was more, spurred into activity by what he saw, Sraat-Challig lurched erect and started to close in on the blond giant. With his arms pinioned as effectively as if they had been bound, Bunduki glanced from left to right. There was cause to worry, he decided, apart from the fact that his legs were unimpeded. Already Jomus-Takn was grasping and pulling at his left arm. Still a few feet away, Sraat-Challig was lumbering at him from the right. Nor could he count upon Dawn for assistance.
Although still obviously in pain, Han-Ateep had taken advantage of the respite given to him by Flant-Wlip and was making for the girl again. Having been in another part of the village, At-Vee was running towards the scene of the altercation; but he would not arrive in time to save his friend. None of the other Jey-Mat hunters were offering to intervene, either, for they still lacked the instincts of fighting men.
