Danny Dunn and the Swamp Monster

by Raymond Abrashkin

  “That would be fine,” said Professor Bullfinch.

  They went out to the car, which had been parked around the corner in the shade of the building. The driver was asleep behind the wheel. Professor Ismail woke him up and gave him his instructions.

  They all piled in. As they drove off, Dan suddenly jerked his head around and stared out of the window.

  “What is it?” Irene said.

  “That man—the one in the white suit,” said Danny. “He was standing in the shadows, back there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, all right,” Danny said. “And I’m sure, too, that he was watching us like a hawk!”

  CHAPTER 7

  In the Sudd

  Getting ready to leave took longer than they had anticipated, and it wasn’t until early the following morning that they drove to the airport to board the plane Dr. Fenster had hired. It was a Grumman twin-engine Goose, with a boat-shaped hull and landing wheels.

  Danny had told Professor Bullfinch about the man in the white suit. The Professor thought about the matter and said, “I don’t believe it was anything sinister, Dan. He was probably just curious about you. After all, it’s not every day that three lively young Americans turn up in an out-of-the-way coffee house in Khartoum.”

  Dan and his friends weren’t so sure. All the way to the airport they kept a sharp lookout. But they didn’t see the stranger again.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Danny said. “He might have been a crook of some kind, or a spy who thought we were trying to discover military secrets. And now he’s being more careful.”

  The man in the white suit was soon forgotten, however, as their plane took off, circled over the city and headed south towards the mysterious swampland called the Sudd. They landed briefly at the town of Malakal to refuel. Soon after, the color of the ground below changed from sandy brown to the solid green of reeds, with lines of shining water running among them. Then they saw a wide lake. The plane landed, sending up sheets of water on each side of its hull. It taxied in close to shore.

  “I arranged for a boat to come up from the little town of Kodok to meet us,” said Dr. Fenster as they unstrapped themselves from their seats. “We’ll leave the airplane on the lake, with the pilot, and go west by boat towards Yakwak. My friend Ibrahim saw the lau’s track somewhere near there.”

  The boat was moored to the bank near where the airplane had landed. It had once been a spruce motor launch, but now its paint was peeling and its metalwork was rusty. A man in a turban waved to them from the deck. He went into the wheelhouse, started the engine, and brought the boat close up alongside the plane. His boat might look shabby, but he was obviously very skillful at handling her.

  With everyone pitching in and helping, it did not take long for all the equipment and camping gear to be transferred from plane to boat. They said good-bye to the pilot of the plane, who was going to make his own camp on shore and would keep in radio contact with them. Then, to the steady putt-putting of their engine, they glided slowly across the lake. A river opened westward, and soon they had entered it.

  The three young people stood in the bows of the boat leaning on the rail. On each side of them rose tall reeds—papyrus—more than twelve feet high, their tops spreading in feathery fans. Now and then, there was a thorny tree with golden flowers among its green leaves. It was called an ambatch. There was little other foliage. Although it was late afternoon, it was blazing hot, hotter than they had ever known. Through the smell of engine oil came another, stronger smell, that of marsh mud.

  “It smells green,” Joe observed.

  The river kept winding. Green plants, like lettuces, covered its surface here and there, and the boat sometimes plowed through masses of them. A channel opened off to the left, and the boat, bumping against the soft banks, turned into it. Irene pointed. A long-legged bird was wading near the bank. Its heavy, curved beak seemed much too large for its head, so that it looked as if the bird had jammed its head into a Dutch wooden shoe. As they watched, it took fright and flapped heavily into the air.

  “It was a shoebill,” said Dr. Fenster, who had come forward to watch. “They’re very rare. Some zoos will pay as much as two thousand dollars for one. You were lucky to see it.”

  “I wish I’d known,” Joe said. “I could have jumped out and grabbed it.”

  “I don’t think you’d want to jump out on this shore,” said Dr. Fenster. “Look there.”

  He motioned ahead to what looked like a rough log, lying half in the water, half on the bank. As the boat came closer, the log suddenly slipped off the bank and swam away.

  “A crocodile,” the zoologist said.

  Joe shivered. But Irene said, “How exciting! It’s all so strange. Crocodiles and shoebills.”

  “Yeah,” Joe said, with a straight face. “It’s almost like being in a foreign country.”

  Irene gave him a push.

  The sun was very low when the boat’s engines stopped at last. The river had narrowed. The shores here were dry and covered with grass instead of papyrus.

  “The Nuer people burn off the reeds in November, when the dry season begins,” said Dr. Fenster. “Then they bring their cattle to graze here. I think they have a cattle camp somewhere nearby.”

  The boat slid in to the sloping bank. The boatman jumped ashore and tied it up to the roots of an ambatch tree. Dr. Fenster climbed over the railing, and the rest followed. Professor Bullfinch had just set foot on land when Irene gave a sudden squeak.

  Three men had appeared as if from nowhere. They were thin, muscular, and so tall that they seemed giants alongside Dr. Fenster and Professor Bullfinch. They wore belts and armbands of beads, and not much else. They had long wooden staffs and stood leaning on them, silently watching the newcomers.

  Dr. Fenster said, “Yibi, yibi.”

  One of the men, whose hair was dyed bright red, replied in a deep voice, “Yabi, yabi.”

  “Yi misi juok.”

  “Ikal juok.”

  There was silence for a moment. Danny, unable to keep still, said to Dr. Fenster, “What did you say?”

  The zoologist replied, “I said, ‘Here we are.’ They answered, ‘Here you are.’ I said, ‘May heaven preserve you.’ They said, ‘And you, too.’”

  Unexpectedly, one of the tall men broke in. “Are you English?”

  “We’re Americans,” Dr. Fenster answered. “Can you speak English?”

  “I speak some of your language. And you speak some of ours. That is friendly. What do you want?”

  “We want to make camp here.”

  The tall man shrugged. “No one will stop you.”

  “Thank you. My name is Fenster. What is your name?”

  “I am Cuol, the son of Dar.”

  “Good. If we want to speak to your people, maybe you will help us, since you know our language.”

  “Maybe,” said Cuol.

  “Well,” Dr. Fenster said, clearing his throat, “thank you very much. We may as well unload our boat, then.”

  The three Nuer men stood where they were and watched as the crates and cases were brought to land. The tents were put up: one for Professor Bullfinch and Dr. Fenster, one for Danny and Joe, and a smaller one for Irene. The boatman was to sleep on board his craft. Another large fly tent was put up to serve as a kind of living room and office. The supplies and equipment were left on board for the time being, but Professor Bullfinch set up a portable stove which used bottled gas, and Dr. Fenster and the young people began getting out food for dinner.

  Cuol stepped forward and picked up a can. “What is this?” he asked.

  “It’s pineapple,” said Joe. “A kind of fruit. Very yummy.”

  “Good,” said Cuol. “I will take it.”

  “Huh?” said Joe. “Why?”

  Cuol stared at him. “You have much of it a
nd I have none,” he said.

  “Quite right,” Dr. Fenster put in. “Take it. And let your friends take some as well.”

  Cuol said something to the other two in his own tongue. They each took a can. Then all three, without another word, went silently away into the gathering dusk.

  Professor Bullfinch rubbed his bald head. “Interesting people, these Nuer,” he said.

  “Yes,” Dr. Fenster agreed. “I know a little about them, but not much. Nobody knows much about them, except that they are a Nilotic people who have lived in these swamps for centuries. They are very proud and independent. They have never liked foreigners, and to them anyone who does not come from the marshes is a foreigner.”

  “They have a good idea about sharing,” Joe said. “I’ll remember it when we come to dessert.”

  Dinner was simple: corned beef and baked beans, hard biscuits with canned butter, canned fruit, and coffee. When they had finished and washed their mess kits, night had fallen. A fire would have been cozy, but they had no wood, so they sat in the dark for a while in front of their tents. Professor Bullfinch puffed at his pipe, and Dr. Fenster lit one of his thin cigars.

  The night was very quiet. Strange stars twinkled overhead. The air was warm and full of unusual smells. Nobody felt much like talking. They were all very tired and the three youngsters were a trifle homesick.

  Suddenly, from somewhere far out in the darkness, came a deep gurgling rumble.

  “What’s that?” said Danny.

  “Lions,” Joe said, almost at the same time.

  “There are no lions here,” said Dr. Fenster softly.

  Once again they heard it, fainter this time. It was like the growling of a hungry giant’s stomach. It died away and all was quiet again.

  “Crocodile?” Professor Bullfinch asked.

  “No. That’s not the sound a croc makes. Nor a hippo,” said Dr. Fenster. “I know them both well.”

  “Then could it be—?” Danny began, in a voice he could not altogether keep from trembling.

  “It’s possible,” said Dr. Fenster. “It’s just possible that we have actually heard the beast we’re looking for—the lau.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Tracks in the Mud

  Danny sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Early as it was, the sun was already hot on the canvas of the tent. He gave Joe a shove.

  “Yibi, yibi,” he said.

  Joe groaned. “Too early.”

  “Come on. We’re going to set up the cameras this morning.”

  Joe struggled out of his light sleeping bag. “Okay. In that case, yabi, yabi. I hope breakfast is yabi, too.”

  Dr. Fenster and Professor Bullfinch were already up, and coffee was steaming on the stove. Irene was eating cornflakes with canned milk.

  “You’re late,” she said smugly. “I’ve been up for hours.”

  “Well, minutes anyway,” said the Professor. “Sit down, boys. We plan to pay a visit to the Nuer this morning, so that there will be no trouble when we set up the apparatus.”

  “Where’s their village?” Danny asked.

  Dr. Fenster pointed along the shore. Not far away, they could see pale gray smoke rising. “It’s not the village, actually,” he said. “That’s much farther inland. In the dry season they come down to the river and set up camps. They graze their cattle on the grass, and do some fishing and hunting.”

  Breakfast didn’t take long. Soon, they were following Dr. Fenster along the river bank. They pushed between reeds and tall grasses and came to a fence made of bundles of grass tied together. Beyond it, they could see small huts and windbreaks of grass, with fires in front of them in pits dug in the earth. There were cattle tied up to pegs driven into the ground. The cows were like none they had ever seen. They had humped shoulders and tall, graceful horns.

  A couple of children, playing near the water’s edge, saw them and ran shouting. Men who had been smoking their pipes around the fires got up and came slowly towards the explorers. Their manner was calm and dignified. After a moment, Cuol, the son of Dar, pushed his way to the front.

  Dr. Fenster said, “Good morning. We’d like to talk to your chief.”

  Cuol smiled. “That will be hard,” he said. “We have no chief.”

  “You mean he is still at your village?” said Dr. Fenster.

  “No. I mean there are no chiefs among the Nuer.”

  “I see. Well, then, who’s in charge of things?”

  “Each of us is in charge of himself,” said Cuol.

  Dr. Fenster scratched his chin. “Who gives orders?”

  Cuol burst into laughter. “Whoever saw a Nuer come when someone sent for him?” he said. “We do not give orders and we do not take them.”

  “That is most interesting,” said Professor Bullfinch. “Suppose you wanted someone to help you do something difficult?”

  “If I needed help, I would say, ‘Son of my mother, help me,’ and someone would do so.”

  Dr. Fenster nodded. “Not a bad way to live,” he said. “Well, we want to set up some scientific equipment in the swamp. And I wanted to be sure that whatever we did would not interfere with the work of your people. Would you have any objection?”

  Cuol turned and spoke to the other men.

  After a moment, he said, “We do not mind. You have been friendly to us. If you are foolish enough to put your belongings in the swamp, that is your affair. Only be careful,” he added with a chuckle, “that the lau does not catch you.”

  “On the contrary,” said Dr. Fenster. “We intend to catch the lau, if we can.”

  Cuol stared down at the bearded little zoologist. Then he spoke to his friends. There was a babble of voices and much laughter.

  Cuol said, “We Nuer respect bravery. But you are not brave, you are simply crazy.”

  “Maybe,” said Dr. Fenster calmly. “If the lau is really in the swamps, will you tell me where to look for him?”

  Cuol said, “You are a foreigner. Why should we tell you?”

  Dr. Fenster looked baffled. There was a long moment while he and Cuol eyed each other. Then Danny suddenly stepped out in front of the others.

  “Son of my mother,” he said boldly, “help us.”

  Cuol blinked. His haughty expression vanished. He put his hand over his mouth, but his eyes twinkled.

  “I cannot say no to that,” he said. “Especially as your hair is the same color as mine. Very well. I will go with you and show you where the lau sometimes comes out of the water. But I will be sorry when you are all dead.”

  “You won’t be half as sorry as we will,” Joe muttered.

  Cuol explained to the other men what had been said. He got his staff and prepared to go with the explorers. All at once, shouting broke out from the crowd.

  The cause of the trouble was Joe. He had noticed an earthenware pot of milk on the ground next to one of the fires. He had walked over boldly and was just about to drink from it when one of the men saw him and, grabbing his arm, began to scold him in the Nuer language.

  “Joe!” said Professor Bullfinch. “What on earth are you doing? Put it down.”

  Joe shrugged. “On the way here you told us to respect the customs of other people, didn’t you, Professor?”

  “Well, of course. But—”

  “I’m just doing what they do. Cuol helped himself to pineapple last night and said, ‘You have much of it and I have none.’ Well, they have lots of milk and we only have that canned stuff.”

  “He is right,” Cuol said. “We Nuer like people who stand up for themselves. You are foreigners, but I like your children. Drink, boy,” he added to Joe.

  Joe tipped up the pot. Next moment, he was spluttering and coughing while milk dribbled down the front of his shirt.

  “It’s sour!” he cried. “Ooh, it’s horrible.”

  Professor Bul
lfinch patted him on the back and handed him a large handkerchief.

  “If you really want to follow the customs of the country,” he said mildly, “you ought to drink it all. But perhaps there’s a limit to how far one can go.”

  They returned to their boat. They had a couple of rubber dinghies with them, which they now inflated. With these, they could get about more easily and more silently than with the big boat. Cuol got into one with Dr. Fenster and Danny, while Professor Bullfinch, Joe, and Irene took the other.

  They paddled across the river. On the far side, the reeds still thrust up more than twice the height of Cuol, tall as he was. There were many winding little waterways threading among the reeds. Cuol chose one of them, and Dr. Fenster marked it by sticking a thin metal rod with a small white flag on it into the bank.

  They followed the waterway for some distance, and then Cuol stopped paddling and said in a low voice, “Do you see that stump?”

  Ahead, the stream divided. In the center, there was a point of land on which was a jagged, dead tree stump.

  “That’s the place, is it?” asked Dr. Fenster. “That’s where you have seen the lau?”

  “I have never seen the lau,” Cuol replied. “If I had, I would probably not be here now.”

  “Then how do you know it comes out of the water there?”

  “I know.”

  Professor Bullfinch had brought his rubber boat up alongside Dr. Fenster’s. He said, “Tell me, Cuol, is the lau real?”

  “Real?” Cuol seemed perplexed. “Of course he is real. He is as real as any evil spirit.”

  “As any—? I don’t understand. Is he a spirit?”

  “I do not know. He is the lau.”

  Professor Bullfinch mopped his dripping forehead. “Ben,” he said, “I have a feeling we’re on a wild-goose chase.”

  “You mean a wild-spirit chase, don’t you?”’ said Dr. Fenster. “Maybe you’re right. Tell me, Cuol, is the lau alive the way we are?”

  Cuol shook his head. “He is alive, but not the way we are.”