Bunduki and Dawn (A Bunduki Jungle Adventure Book 2)

by J. T. Edson

  Thinking back to the numerous occasions when the male members of her family had stayed up until the early hours of the morning discussing similar matters, Dawn nodded sympathetically. She was tired after the exertions of the day and guessed that Joar-Fane was equally ready to rest. However, if the little Telonga girl’s earlier remarks were anything to go by, she had no intention of settling down to sleep until At-Vee joined her.

  ‘They won’t tonight,’ Dawn stated. ‘Let’s stop them.’

  ‘How?’ Joar-Fane asked, sounding puzzled.

  ‘I’ve always found the easiest way is to tell them they have to stop,’ Dawn explained, standing up. Followed by the other girl, whose expressive face showed a complete lack of comprehension, she strolled around the fire and halted in front of the men, announcing, ‘Joar-Fane and I are ready to go to sleep. So you can stop all this idle talking and let us.’

  A startled exclamation burst from the little Telonga girl’s lips. While her nation permitted considerable sexual freedom, within clearly defined limits, no woman would have thought of intruding in such a fashion while the men were engaged in a conversation. So she waited, almost with bated breath, to see what the result of such an unprecedented action might be.

  ‘That’s the worst of having women warriors, brother,’ Bunduki informed the clearly flabbergasted hunter in tones of mock sadness. ‘They’ve no respect for their betters.’ He gave a shrug redolent of patient and forgiving resignation and looked at his adoptive cousin, continuing, ‘All right, all right! We’ll stop our discussion and if doing so results in our two great nations being destroyed, don’t blame us.’

  Unfortunately, the effect of the blond giant’s rhetoric was nullified by the girl at whom it was directed turning her back on him before he had finished.

  ‘Just like men,’ Dawn informed Joar-Fane. ‘All big talk that means nothing.’

  Although the Telonga couple displayed their puzzlement at the ‘Apes’ behavior, they did not debate the matter. Instead, they returned to the side of the fire opposite the bows. Placing his spear and shilva where they would be readily available if needed, At-Vee sat down. Joining him on the ground, Joar-Fane threw a satisfied smile at Dawn. Then, their attitudes showing that they expected the big blond and his adoptive cousin to stay by their weapons, she and the hunter settled down for the night.

  ‘Damn it, you nugu!' Bunduki growled quietly, as he and Dawn stretched out side by side. ‘What are you playing at?’

  ‘Who, me?’ the girl answered, oozing innocence.

  ‘You!’ the blond giant confirmed. ‘If the way you’re acting catches on among the Telonga women, you could ruin the entire structure of their culture.’

  ‘And not before time,’ Dawn stated, then the levity left her tone and she went on, ‘I like them both, Bunduki and, from what Joar-Fane’s told me about their people, I don’t care for the way the Mun-Gatahs treat them.’

  ‘Or me,’ the blond giant admitted. ‘But you know why the “Suppliers” gave them the idea of the People-Taker?’

  ‘Yes,’ Dawn admitted. ‘And I don’t like it any better now than I did when he told us. As far as I’m concerned, the whole concept is wrong and inhuman no matter why it’s done. From what Joar-Fane said, the People-Taker’s escort treat their prisoners worse than animals. And, after my experience with the Mun-Gatahs, I doubt whether their treatment improves after they’ve been delivered. I say it’s time the whole damned business was brought to a stop.’

  ‘Hey, slow down there, hot-head!’ Bunduki requested, laying his right arm across his adoptive cousin’s shoulders and smiling a little at her vehemence. ‘I agree with you. The original idea might have been to control the Telongas’ population, but it could be going wrong.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘At-Vee told me that the latest visit happened almost two moons before it was due and twice the usual number of victims were taken. If that keeps up, the Telongas’ birth-rate won’t be able to supplement the losses and they’ll be wiped out.’

  ‘Do you think that’s why the “Suppliers” have brought us here?’ Dawn asked. ‘So that we can help to restore the balance?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Bunduki replied. ‘The one we met said that we were supposed to act in the capacity of game wardens. In which case, a thing like this comes under our jurisdiction.’

  ‘Then what are we going to do about it?’ the girl demanded.

  ‘There’s not a whole lot we can do about it right now,’ the blond giant pointed out. ‘So I’m going to get some sleep.’

  With that, Bunduki kissed Dawn. He had done so in the past often enough. However, then it had always been a quick peck such as a pair of cousins might exchange. In fact, when compelled to kiss in their younger days as a matter of convention, it was frequently accompanied by a quick punch in the ribs, or a kick across the shins in protest against any suggestion of ‘being mushy.’

  On this occasion, there was a difference. Dawn felt it as much as Bunduki. At the contact, their lips pressed against each other. Feeling Bunduki’s arm tighten across her shoulders, the girl moved closer to him. They remained that way for a few seconds, then moved a little apart.

  ‘I—!’ the blond giant began, for once in his life at a loss for words.

  ‘Th—There’s no blood link between us,’ Dawn pointed out, but she too sounded a little flustered and breathless.

  ‘Damn it!’ the blond giant grunted, wanting to reduce the tension which he and, he suspected, his adoptive cousin was feeling. ‘And to think I’ve let you get away with being so cheeky all these years. Goodnight, nugu.’

  ‘Nugu yourself, Tar-Numa,’ the girl replied and nestled closer. ‘I hope you don’t snore.’

  Giving Dawn a gentle squeeze, Bunduki closed his eyes. For a time, he lay without moving. His thoughts were on Dawn’s reference to the fact that they were not related in any way, except by the chance of adoption. Like her, he had been subjected to attempts at matchmaking by the other female members of the family and by Esmeralda Moreland. In fact, even before coming to Zillikian, he had frequently given thought to the matter. However, this was the first time since their arrival that they had been in a situation conducive to bringing it into the open. The previous two nights had been spent in travelling to avoid being recaptured by the Mun-Gatahs. From the way Dawn had spoken, she too appeared to have given it her consideration.

  Deciding to leave things to develop in their own good time, Bunduki drifted off to sleep. All around, beyond the circle of the fire’s light, the noises of the jungle acted as a lullaby. From close at hand, a tree hyrax’s weird call rose higher and shriller until it was abruptly cut off leaving a void that almost tingled in its wake. Farther away, a leopard’s saw-rasping cough gave a warning that it was hunting. The eerie hooting of a Forest Eagle Owl was followed by a shrill scream of agony as it swooped upon and scooped up an incautious rodent. Through it all, the blond giant and his companions slept undisturbed except when he or At-Vee aroused to replenish the blaze with some of the wood they had gathered earlier.

  Shortly before the sun rose, the strident metallic calls and melodious whistles of the Racket-tailed Drongos warned the sleepers that day was about to break. Waking, they allowed the fire to go out and ate their breakfasts in its fading glow. Moving on soon after first light, they made good time. Due to the healing action of the mosses that Joar-Fane had applied to At-Vee’s ankle, it was almost recovered and he could walk with greater ease than on the previous afternoon’s march.

  For Bunduki in particular, the journey was very enjoyable. Up until that morning, although conscious of the amount and variety of wild life in the jungle, he had been too concerned with other matters to give his surroundings the attention they warranted. There was much to see, birds from a number of tropical countries being especially in evidence. Studying them as well as the almost equally abundant animals and reptiles made the time pass pleasantly for him and his companions. Although they found signs of Mangani and heard the domina
nt bull of the area giving his challenge roar, they did not see any of the ‘Hairy People’. Nor did Bunduki consider it prudent to respond with his own call. To do so would almost certainly bring the man-ape in search of the intruders on his domain.

  There was only one incident of note to disturb the peace and enjoyment of the march. During the afternoon, having left his companions to check on a pile of bones which proved to be the debris accumulated at the foot of a Philippine Monkey-Eating Eagle’s nest tree, Bunduki came across the tracks of a single zebra. As that was one creature which, in the wild, could be counted upon to avoid jungles, he decided it must be a Mun-Gatah’s domesticated mount and hazarded a guess at the identity of its rider. The tracks were going in much the same direction as his party. However, as they were at least four days old, he was not unduly perturbed by the discovery and made no mention of it on rejoining the others.

  Towards evening, At-Vee announced that they were very close to the banks of what he called the Big River, but he considered it advisable for them to postpone the crossing until the following morning. Even as he spoke, a magnificent jungle cock—looking even more brightly colored and gaudy than a domesticated Brown Leghorn rooster—burst from the undergrowth ahead of them. Leaving the ground, it rose in the kind of spiraling flight known as ‘chimneying’ until it disappeared through a gap in the jungle canopy.

  ‘I wonder if any of his hens are around?’ Dawn said, starting to gaze about her in the hope of locating the birds. ‘They might be nesting and we could use a few eg—’

  ‘What is it?’ Bunduki demanded as his adoptive cousin’s words died away and she stared to their left.

  Following Dawn’s gaze, Joar-Fane let out a gasp of horror. When Bunduki saw what had attracted the girl’s attention, he threw a glance at At-Vee. The blond giant had his bow strung and slung across his back, but he left it there. He was carrying the m’kuki and shield, but doubted that there would be any need for the weapons. However, he was alert as he moved forward. At his side the Telonga hunter gripped the heavy spear ready for use. Taking out and nocking an arrow to the string of her seventy-pound draw Ben Pearson Marauder Take-Down hunting bow, Dawn followed the men. Looking as though she would rather stay behind, Joar-Fane brought up the rear.

  ‘Who is it?’ Dawn asked, as they gathered around the partly eaten body of a woman whose’ legs, showing from behind the trunk of a tree, had attracted her notice.

  ‘I’d say it’s the Mun-Gatah woman who ran away when Bunduki saved Joar-Fane and me,’ At-Vee guessed. ‘What do you think, brother?’

  ‘Yes,’ the blond giant confirmed. ‘She must have lost her zebra and a tiger got her, or it pulled her from the saddle.’

  ‘The poor devil!’ Dawn breathed, turning away and replacing the arrow in her back-quiver. ‘She must have been trying to find her way back to her people.’

  ‘It looks that way,’ Bunduki agreed. ‘There’s one consolation in it for us, though.’

  ‘What’s that?’ At-Vee inquired.

  ‘With her dead as well as the men who were with her, the People-Taker won’t know what’s happened to Joar-Fane,’ the blond giant explained. ‘I’m willing to bet that, if he guesses something’s happened to them, he’ll believe that she’s been killed too. He’ll not learn that he’s mistaken until his next visit.’

  By which time, although the blond giant did not mention it, he hoped to have persuaded the Telongas to resist any further collections.

  Chapter Seven – The ‘Apes’ Might Solve Your Problem

  ‘Well,’ growled Dryaka, High Priest of the Mun-Gatah nation. ‘Have you found the answer for me yet?’

  There were times when Zongaffa, the Herbalist, wished that he had never made the experimental mixture which had first created the ‘Thunder Powder’—and this was one of those times.

  Ever since the old man had, shown Dryaka his discovery, he had not known a minute’s peace of mind. While Zongaffa regarded the powder as nothing more than an impressive and entertaining novelty, the High Priest was convinced that it had a more practical purpose. Considering some of the effects it created and being aware of the kind of man Dryaka was, Zongaffa was not sure that he wanted to discover what the purpose might be. However, he had no intention of making his misgivings known to his employer, particularly in the light of recent events.

  Following the theft of the small bag of ‘Thunder Powder’, which in turn had led to the escape of the prisoners and the devastation at the hunting camp, the High Priest’s never too amiable nature had grown increasingly unpleasant. The majority of the gatahs and all but one of the Elders’ quaggas had eventually been recovered, but it had taken two days to round up the scattered animals. There had been no opportunity to send a mounted party after the foreign couple before the gathering was completed, by which time there was little hope of recapturing them. In fact, the men sent on the assignment had returned to report that the pair’s trail had been lost when they entered the woodland.

  Combined with the other incidents, the news had done nothing to improve Dryaka’s temper. With the camp in such a dilapidated condition and the general feeling that the Quagga God did not favor a continuation of the hunt, the party had returned to Bon-Gatah. From the way they had been received, it was apparent that news of their various misfortunes had preceded them in some way during the four days which had elapsed since the visit paid by the District Administrator for San Gatah. There had been veiled references made to it in the Herbalist’s hearing, and he had found that many of his employer’s domestic staff who had not been on the hunt were aware of at least a portion of the facts.

  Although Zongaffa did not realize it, the change in the population’s attitude was a major contributory factor towards the High Priest’s ill temper. A shrewd and intelligent man, Dryaka possessed one accomplishment in particular which he had always found to be of great use. The ability to gauge fluctuations in public sentiment had stood him in good stead during his rise from being a grar-gatah riding warrior to his present high office.

  Ever since his return the previous afternoon, Dryaka had been conscious of a subtle and, while as yet barely noticeable, disturbing change in the attitudes of Bon-Gatah’s population. Normally, living in such close proximity to the full strength of his authority, they were very circumspect in their behavior towards him. Following the return of the hunting party, there had been a slight lack of respect and a reduction of the display of reverent awe which he had come to expect. Not much as yet and possibly undetected by any of his retinue, but noticeable to his well developed senses. He was all too aware of how such a situation could develop unless it was checked.

  Like the Protectress of the Quagga God, the High Priest had attained his position by the strength of his personality, fighting prowess and the loyalty which he commanded from his adherents. However, his acceptance by—or rather the control he could exert over—the citizens of Bon-Gatah (the nation’s capital city and seat of government) was a matter of considerable importance to his continuance in the exalted office. For all its power and benefits, few men who had held it lived to enjoy retirement as a member of the council of Elders.

  Knowing that public confidence in him had been shaken, if, only slightly as yet, Dryaka realized that steps must be taken as quickly as possible to regain his moral superiority. It was too late to prevent the stories of the hunting party’s mishaps from being circulated and he had failed to learn who was responsible for them being spread. So he must find some way of re-asserting his authority. The only problem was how to bring it about.

  Providing that its correct function could be ascertained, the ‘Thunder Powder’ seemed to be the ideal answer to Dryaka. However, in its present form it would not be sufficiently impressive to override the misfortunes of the past few days. Another weakening element that had intruded upon the affair also had to be taken into account. Already displeased by the injury inflicted upon his niece, Elidor, at the hands of Dawn of the Apes, Hulkona’s relations with the High Priest had deteriorated e
ven more when they had failed to recapture his quagga. So the Elder would have to be placated, or at least shown that Dryaka possessed a power that made him a man dangerous to antagonize. With that in mind, he had given Zongaffa detailed and explicit orders.

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t,’ the Herbalist admitted, nervously looking out of the window at the night-darkened sky so as to avoid meeting the High Priest’s angry and accusing glare. ‘I don’t think it’s possible to make the smoke come in different colors.’

  Having given considerable thought and worked hard at his unrewarding task almost without stop since returning to Bon-Gatah, Zongaffa had not relished giving such a negative report he knew would be unlikely to please his employer and could tell that his assumption was correct.

  Small, completely bald, his shoulders stooped from long hours of crouching over a bench to mix his potions, Zongaffa was a sharp-featured and ugly old man. His white toga’s only adornments were stains of several colors and his restless hands were mottled in a similar fashion. There was something reptilian about him, but his movements were rather those of a small, quick moving lizard than the massive languorous power of a big snake.

  ‘Smoke! Color!’ Dryaka replied, practically spitting the words out to show his disgust. ‘What’s special about that? High Priests have been producing colored smoke for generations. I need something much more spectacular and effective than that.’

  ‘The fumes the powder gives off almost suffocated me,’ Zongaffa began hopefully. ‘And they killed a Telonga slave who I left in an enclosed room that was filled with them—’

  ‘I’ll remember that—if I ever want to suffocate a Telonga slave in an enclosed room,’ the High Priest snarled sarcastically. ‘But wouldn’t it be quicker and simpler just to kill him with a sword?’

  ‘The fumes could be useful if you had somebody you didn’t trust and wanted to kill,’ Zongaffa suggested, with a diffidence he was far from feeling. However, he knew better than to try his employer’s patience and so hid his resentment. ‘You could have a heap of the powder ignited near them. When they were coughing and blinded—’