Bunduki and Dawn (A Bunduki Jungle Adventure Book 2)

by J. T. Edson

  Unable to change his club’s downwards flight, or to prevent himself from advancing, the third bull-Mangam lumbered helplessly into trouble. The shaft of the girl’s spear hissed underneath his descending weapon. It met his solar plexus with a resounding ‘thwack!’. Splintering under the stresses created by the impact, the bamboo shaft was jerked from Dawn’s grasp. The breath gushed out of the Mangani’s lungs in an almost human bawl of agony. Opening his hands so that the club slipped harmlessly from his fingers, he clutched at his mid-section and doubled at the waist. His momentum caused him to reel a few more steps, on buckling legs.

  Although the girl had lost her recently acquired weapon, she did not let it worry her. Even before she spun around to see the Mangani collapsing to his knees, she felt sure that he would not be troubling her for at least several seconds. Two leaping strides carried her to him. Placing her left foot in the centre of his back, she pushed with all her strength and he plunged on to his face. Bringing down her leg, Dawn slid the Randall knife from its sheath and hoped it would not be needed.

  Bracing himself so that the majority of his weight was on his good ankle, At-Vee had moved until he was standing between Joar-Fane and the remaining pair of Mangani. Hoping that he would be able to wield it adequately in his incapacitated condition, he grasped the shilva’s handle in his right fist. The weapon resembled a czdkan, the war hammer used by late 16th and early 17th Century Polish horsemen. It had a two-foot long wooden handle topped with a small hammer-like head from which jutted a narrow, slightly curved, sharp pointed six-inch spike.

  The hunter was so engrossed in keeping his balance and watching the two man-apes that he was unable to find out how his friends were faring. Instead, he concentrated all his attention on preparing to meet the attack which he felt sure was about to be launched.

  Instead of advancing on At-Vee as he expected, the two young bulls were staring at their companions. As with most primate societies, they lived in a social group that was controlled by a rigidly enforced hierarchy. When they had emerged from their hiding place to attack their selected prey they had allowed their superiors to lead the way.

  Seeing the dominant male, Fol-Ban, struck down in what to their limited intelligence was an incomprehensible manner, they had slowed their pace. When Bunduki’s charge sent the second of their group flying and Dawn felled the third, they came to a halt.

  ‘Help At-Vee with those two, Dawn!’ the blond giant commanded, having noticed the pair’s indecision and deduced what was causing it.

  Knowing that there was no time to pretend she objected having orders given her, the girl did not reply. Instead, she darted to the hunter’s side. Behind them, Joar-Fane started to stand up. Seeing her rising, the two bulls moving restlessly and made somewhat querulous attempts at menacing growls.

  ‘Keep still, Joar-Fane!’ Dawn hissed without turning her head, hoping that the other girl would not panic. If she did, her fear might give the clearly worried man-apes the courage to attack. Despite her success with the first bull, Dawn knew that she might not be so fortunate if she had to take on another—even one of lower social status—while armed only with her knife.

  The warning was not necessary. For all her impulsive nature, Joar-Fane was no coward. What was more, she had the advantage of having seen Bunduki quell a larger band of Mangani without assistance. So, in spite of the aura of almost supernatural mystery with which her people endowed the ‘Hairy Men’, she was confident that her friends could prevail against their attackers.

  Recovering the breath he had lost as a result of the blond giant’s attack, the second man-ape lurched to his feet. Having done so, he turned his savage gaze towards the cause of his misfortunes. He was amazed and shocked by the way he had been treated. Nothing like it had happened to him before, except for the time his father had defeated and ejected him from the family group. The recollection caused him concern and misgivings over the possibility of having to tackle the strangely armed tar-Mangani.

  ‘Gu-Bab kill!’ the young male roared, adopting the traditional way of building up sufficient courage to attack and hoping his blustering threat might avert the need to do so. ‘Go, or Gu-Bab kill!’

  ‘Tar-Numa not afraid!’ Bunduki countered in the same guttural, almost grunting word sounds, throwing aside his shield. On his previous encounter with Mangani, he had used the name ‘Tar-Ard’—“White Lightning” as a suggestion of how quickly he could move; but now he unconsciously adopted the title which Dawn had given him. Looking straight into the young bull’s eyes, he went on, ‘Gu-Bab leave now, or Tar-Numa kill!’

  Gu-Bab had never seen a human being, few of whom ever penetrated into the dense jungle which the Mangani generally occupied. So he continued to regard the blond giant’s party as a peculiar hairless tribe, possibly related to his own kind. Hearing the tar-Mangani’s reply made him decide that he had been correct. It also raised another, much more important matter.

  How should Gu-Bab respond now that his challenge had been thrown back at him.

  In the Mangani’s way of life, such a situation could only be dealt with in one of two ways. Gu-Bab did not find either of them appealing.

  From his earlier experiences and the way that the previously dominant Fol-Ban had been killed, the young man-ape realized that he was up against somebody with exceptional fighting prowess. It was sufficiently impressive for him to have doubts about the wisdom of resuming the conflict. Unable to continue meeting the challenge in the blond giant’s piercing stare, he turned his head. Looking around at his companions, he decided that he could not count upon them for support. Whatever action he took, it would be on his own.

  ‘Go!’ Bunduki thundered, taking a step forward and bringing Gu-Bab’s attention back to him.

  For a moment, the blond giant thought that the Mangani intended to refuse. If that happened, there was almost certain to be a fight, and he had no wish to kill or injure—which might mean the same thing eventually—Gu-Bab if it could be avoided. So he gave a lion-like roar and sprang forward in a threatening fashion. Instantly aware of the consequences if he showed defiance, Gu-Bab leapt to his rear. Having started to retreat, he turned and lumbered away as fast as his legs could carry him.

  Seeing their current senior member put to flight, the two junior man-apes lost all idea of aggression. Clutching their weapons, they swung on their heels and darted back into the bushes. Nor, if the crashing and rustling of disturbed foliage proved anything, did they stop once they were out of sight. Dragging himself painfully to his feet, but still bent forward hugging at his solar plexus with both hands, the last of the Mangani saw what was happening. Deciding that discretion was the better part of velour, he too took a rapid departure.

  Throwing back his head, Bunduki speeded the man-apes on their way by giving the thundering, triumphant victory roar of a bull-Mangani.

  Chapter Six – There’s No Blood Link Between Us

  Sitting on a log by a stream in the jungle, Bunduki watched Dawn Drummond-Clayton and Joar-Fane as they grilled impala steaks over the flames of a fixe. Bunduki was pleased to see that a problem he had anticipated had failed to materialize. Remembering how the little Telonga girl had behaved during the period before they met At-Vee, he had been worried over how she might react to his adoptive cousin’s presence. In the interests of peace and quiet, he had led her to believe that Dawn was his wife. In addition, he had envisaged difficulties and possibly hostility from the hunter if Joar-Fane resumed her attempts to seduce him.

  However, the blond giant did not know the full circumstances behind Joar-Fane’s abduction.

  Tav-Han, the father of Joar-Fane, was a hunter and, although retired from active participation, he was still qualified to be ‘put away’ when the Mun-Gatahs’ People-Taker paid a visit to his village. Tav-Han had been determined to protect his daughter. As she had grown older and more attractive, he had taken precautions to prevent her from coming to the People-Taker’s attention. He had taught her to hide as soon as she became aware of his a
nd the other hunters’ disappearances.

  At the last visit, in a fit of pique because At-Vee had insisted on going hunting instead of escorting her to a friend’s wedding dance, the girl had refused to follow this sensible procedure. Selected by the People-Taker, she had soon learned that the victims were doomed to a far less happy fate than she had imagined. So she had escaped and eventually found herself on the wrong side of the wide river that acted as a boundary between the Telongas’ country and the domain of the dreaded ‘Hairy Men’.

  Not until she had been re-united with At-Vee had she learned that he had gone to obtain the skin of a jaguar, the hunters’ traditional bride price. The discovery, (combined with what she regarded as Bunduki’s unsatisfactory qualities as a maker of love—for he had been too worried about what might be happening to Dawn to respond to Joar-Fane’s advances) had been enough to convince her that At-Vee was the only man for her.

  Although Joar-Fane had been assured by Bunduki that there was no further danger from the Mangani, she had been unwilling to remain in the vicinity of the dead male. So, being in sympathy with her sentiments, the rest of the party had agreed to move on. After Bunduki had retrieved his m’kuki, he had climbed the vine to the platform. Returning with the weapons that had been left on it, he and Dawn had strung their bows ready for use. Then, with their arrow-filled quivers on their backs, they had set off with their friends on the first leg of the journey to the Jey-Mat Telonga village.

  Using his spear as a crutch, At-Vee had had no difficulty in walking at a leisurely pace. Making the most of his jungle trained sense of direction, he had assumed the duty of guide. Accepting that the hunter’s local knowledge made him better qualified to lead them, Bunduki had been content to go along with the arrangement.

  Much to Bunduki’s relief, there had been no friction between the girls. Always warm-hearted and friendly, Joar-Fane had taken an instant liking to Dawn and the feeling was reciprocated. Despite their vastly different backgrounds and upbringings, they had soon become close friends.

  At-Vee’s inborn suspicion of foreigners, already weakened by gratitude when Joar-Fane was returned safely to him, had quickly evaporated. Impressed by Bunduki’s fighting prowess, something which—courageous as he was when dealing with dangerous animals—he had never learned, his respect had grown as he discovered that the blond giant’s knowledge of the jungle was equal to his own. He had found out that Bunduki was just as quick as he was himself to spot the various creatures that they came across and exceptionally competent at reading tracks or other signs.

  Leaving the men to their activities, Dawn and Joar-Fane had talked together as they walked along. The little Telonga girl had told Dawn a great deal about her people’s way of life and asked in which ways it differed from that of the ‘Apes’. Not wishing to confuse her companion, Dawn had explained that she and Bunduki belonged to a jungle dwelling race whose territory lay beyond that of the ‘Hairy Men’. She had contrived to satisfy Joar-Fane’s curiosity and had also impressed her by declaring that the ‘Apes’ did not permit such impositions as the People-Taker to be inflicted upon them.

  Once they had left the woodland and entered the jungle, in addition to discussing how they lived, Joar-Fane had pointed out a number of items which Dawn found of great interest. There was much to which she had been accustomed on Earth, but several kinds of fruit and plants were unknown to her. Accepting that they did not grow in the ‘Apes’ country, Joar-Fane had willingly explained which were edible and, in the case of plants with medicinal properties, how they could be put to use. Knowing that she had to make her life on Zillikian as comfortable as possible, Dawn had been grateful for the advice.

  Shortly before the sun went down, At-Vee suggested that they made camp on the banks of a stream. On being assured that they were not being followed by human enemies nor stalked by Mangani, the girls had announced their intention of cooking a meal. Employing the ancient method of creating friction by sawing one piece of dry wood against another with a bowstring, Bunduki made them a fire. Then he and At-Vee withdrew to gather fuel, leaving Dawn and Joar-Fane to attend to the preparation of the food.

  In spite of the primitive way in which it was cooked and a lack of salt to flavor it, the impala meat proved to be tasty. It was supplemented by fruits which the girls had gathered during the last stages of the march. With the meal over, Bunduki had taken his bow and made a search of the area to ensure that all was well. On his return, he found Dawn and Joar-Fane grilling more impala steaks. As a precaution against the smoke being seen, it had been arranged that the fire would be doused by sunrise and they intended to have another cooked meal before resuming the journey. On the other side of the fire, with his ankle freshly bandaged by moss and leaves, At-Vee was sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. He was examining the m’kuki, and the shield was leaning by his side.

  ‘This is a fine spear,’ the hunter remarked. ‘You didn’t have it when you set out to rescue Dawn. Did you take it from the Mun-Gatahs?’

  ‘No,’ Bunduki replied. ‘It’s the kind some of my people use.’

  ‘Your “Supplier” gives you good tools,’ the hunter declared, running the ball of his left thumb carefully along the long blade’s sharp cutting edge.

  ‘It’s fine for throwing,’ Bunduki admitted, noticing the use of the word “tool” instead of “weapon” and picking up At-Vee’s spear. ‘But this will do things I can’t do with the m’kuki.’

  As the blond giant realized, the Telonga’s spear was designed for a different purpose to the m’kuki. While they were roughly the same length, the former had a much thicker shaft with a stout metal cross guard attached to it about two feet below the knife-like head. From its weight, balance and general feel, he considered that it would be impossible to throw with accuracy. Nor could it compare with a Zulu’s assegai as a close quarters’ stabbing weapon. In fact, he concluded that it would be more suitable as a hunting tool than an implement of war.

  ‘We don’t have anything like this,’ At-Vee commented, putting aside the m’kuki and indicating the shield.

  The taboos instilled by his life’s training prevented the hunter from attempting to satisfy his curiosity and asking how Bunduki had obtained the weapons. Prying into the means by which the ‘Suppliers’ made their deliveries was forbidden in Telonga tradition and he imagined it would be the same among the ‘Apes’.

  ‘Don’t you have shields?’ Bunduki inquired, laying the spear down.

  ‘No,’ At-Vee replied, lifting the shield. He looked at it, then held it up. ‘I can’t see how it would be of much use against a charging tiger, or even a leopard.’

  ‘It’s not meant for that,’ Bunduki pointed out. ‘This is a fighting shield.’

  ‘That’s something we’ve never needed,’ At-Vee said thoughtfully.

  Thinking back to some of the things Joar-Fane had told him, Bunduki had a good idea of his companion’s meaning. According to the girl, the hunters’ function was to protect the rest of the population from carnivores or other dangerous and destructive wild animals. They were not in any way a fighting force and their function was not that of defending their people against human enemies. So the spear, which required both hands, precluded the use of a shield.

  ‘Can I look at your knife?’ At-Vee inquired, leaning the shield against the trunk of the tree.

  ‘Certainly,’ Bunduki assented, taking out the bowie and offering it handle first. ‘May I see your shilva?’

  After the exchange had been made, the two men studied the weapons. As they had not been able to make a fire on the tree platform where they had spent the night before the blond giant left to rescue Dawn, they had not been able to learn much about each other’s armament. So now they were taking the opportunity to satisfy their mutual interest.

  At-Vee drew his own knife from its sheath on the left side of his belt. Designed for skinning, it had no cross guard and seemed small and fragile in comparison with the great size of the Randall Model 12. Nor was it made of such hig
h quality materials.

  Examining the shilva, the name of which he had learned during the journey, Bunduki decided that it could make an effective weapon. He also suspected that its purpose among the hunters was purely defensive, to be used as a means of close quarters protection if the spear failed to kill, or to dispatch a wounded animal.

  ‘Do you use the bow and arrows?’ Bunduki asked, returning the shilva and accepting his knife.

  ‘Some of our hunters do,’ At-Vee replied, his attitude displaying that he did not approve of such methods and felt they were beneath him. ‘I’d sooner have my spear and shilva. They’re more certain than arrows.’

  Even as he was speaking, the hunter glanced towards the bows and arrows belonging to Dawn and Bunduki. While they had been in his care, he had examined them. No bow he had ever seen came close to matching the strength of either weapon. Although they had not been strung and he had been unable to do so, he realized that to draw even the girl’s bow would call for considerable strength and skill. What was more, remembering how deeply he had seen her sink an arrow—which again were superior to anything in the Telongas’ possession—into the body of a tiger, he felt less critical of archery than he might otherwise have been.

  ‘I’d agree with you, under some conditions,’ Bunduki stated. ‘But there are times when an arrow will beat either of them.’

  ‘Huh!’ Joar-Fane grunted indignantly, laying the last of the steaks on the large leaves which were serving as a tablecloth and glaring at the men. ‘It’s always the same with hunters. When they get together, they always want to spend half the night talking about spears, or shilvas or things like that.’