Once Upon the Congo

by Applewhite, Claire; Harper, Chap

  No one blinked. After breakfast everyone headed to the vehicles and a strange quietness settled over the group. As they headed out of town towards Bafwasende, the road started turning into an enlarged rut between the trees. It wasn’t a road as much as a large drainage ditch. The Land Rovers were in four wheel drive constantly as they slid from one side of the road to the other. The drivers hit big mud holes hard and fast so the Land Rovers wouldn’t realize they were actually submerged. To relieve the horrible conditions the road would turn to gravel for a few miles lulling the crew into thinking the bad road was behind them. No sooner had everyone relaxed, the roadbed would turn to quicksand and the whining of the engines and transmissions could be heard fighting against sinking below the surface. Occasionally a Land Rover would get hopelessly buried, and either a winch had to be used, or another Land Rover with a cable had to pull them out. After six hours of this on and off travel and mud crawling, the expedition pulled into Bafwasende.

  They ate a meal described as pork, but most felt it was of a dubious origin. The gas tanks and five gallon spares were filled, and they were off again in an attempt to get to the jumping off place and set up camp. Two hours of bad road later, Sony found the pig trail that ran along the Aruwimi. The trail had a solid rock bottom for the most part and the group made good time. In about three hours the road ended at a large rocky cliff going skyward about one hundred feet next to the Aruwimi River.

  The group had passed a couple of villages along the way and except for some t-shirts with American movie heroes and European soccer stars, the villages had not changed since time began. One such village was located where the group set up camp for the night. Ernie found he could speak their language and said they wanted to trade with them. Trading had been done for thousands of years so the travelers expected it would be the custom in this village.

  Five native women for John’s blonde woman was the first offer. He made a motion to Vikki as though he was seriously considering it but backed off. The villagers had contraband such as ivory and leopard hides to trade. They had a hard time understanding the group couldn’t accept them. Then they brought out a small beautifully decorated basket that had a top piece with a handle. The chief, who was the principal business man in the group, removed the top and reached in the basket. He held his hand in front of the group until everyone was gathered around. As his hand opened, a huge rough diamond the size of a hen’s egg appeared. Marc, John and Vikki passed it among themselves and marveled at its size.

  John spoke, “Vikki, if they want you for this diamond—it’s been nice knowing you.”

  Vikki hit him hard on the shoulder, and hoped she wouldn’t be sleeping with the old native chief that night.

  Ernie began addressing the chief in a kind, slow manner, bowing all the time. “I told him we didn’t have anything to trade that would match the object he had shown them. I told him to keep it because it was very valuable.”

  The chief reached back into the basket and pulled out a smaller but still very nice diamond, and said to Ernie he really wanted to trade since the group had been very honest.

  Sony brought out beautiful blankets and cloth. Then he displayed sacks of costume jewelry and cooking utensils. They made a trade and the natives seemed deliriously happy. The villagers helped to set up camp and talked with Ernie and Sony about the route they were going to take. Both groups shared food for the night. Vikki and John went to their tent after dark and lay on their cots.

  “Vikki, I overheard them telling Sony there were still native villages along the river that used poisoned arrows. We need to stick together like glue and watch every movement in the jungle for anything that is out of place. Are you sure you want to do this?” John feared for her safety.

  “John, I knew this was going to be dangerous from the start. I’m in no more danger than you, or Sony, or Marc. You know the natives wouldn’t kill me since I’m too big a prize for any chief who wants another wife. You on the other hand would find your head on a stick in a New York minute,” she said, laughing, but John knew she was probably right.

  They kissed each other good night and suddenly realized there would be no cots after this night. Just small tents and thin sleeping pads which they would be carrying on their backs as they walked through the steaming jungle dodging poisoned arrows. Sleep did not come easily.

  Chapter 7

  The Jungle

  Breakfast had an eerie feel to it—like possibly it would be the last for some, and there was no small talk about the trek ahead. After everyone put their packs on and lined up for the trail, they gave gifts to the natives to watch over the parked Land Rovers. Pistols were loaded and shells were pumped into the chambers of the .45 automatics. All the pistols were identical updated versions of the military Browning 1911s allowing for shared rounds. Everyone had taken target practice while the group camped along the way to this area. Vikki owned a 9mm so she had more recoil to deal with on the .45 but adjusted just fine. Most of the men had done some military service, and the two who hadn’t shot well enough after great instruction from Zuka and Ernie. Of course, the two mercenaries did their thing with AK-47s and new prototype .40 caliber Glock automatics. One would be a point man and the other would take rear guard.

  The expedition slipped their way up the steep incline of the hill in front of them. On the other side they did the same, finding at the bottom a well-traveled jungle trail almost parallel to the river. The morning coolness was burning away, and sweat was pouring off of everyone. Only a half mile in, everyone stopped for water and started shedding clothes. It wasn’t raining but everything was wet including the ground and every piece of foliage dripped water. Their boots were making a sloshing sound and water dripped off packs, clothing, hair, and skin. Insects abounded and appeared to enjoy the repellent everyone had generously applied to their bodies and clothing.

  “John, do you think it would be okay to put on the insect net under my hat? Vikki asked while she took off her Texas Longhorn ball cap and dug around in her pack for the netting.

  “Try it, but the air is so heavy and wet, you might find it hard to breathe.”

  “Hell, I’m breathing in insects now. Wet air can’t be that much worse,” Vikki said with an ample amount of sarcasm in her voice.

  “Insects do contain a little protein, dear.”

  “Screw you, John.”

  Vikki placed the ball cap back on her head over the insect netting. At first she stumbled along with her hand on John’s shoulder because her visibility was impaired. He could hear her breathing hard and cursing after a few miles.

  “Can’t stand this shit anymore!” Vikki ripped the netting off her head and stuffed it in a pocket of her pack. “Can’t breathe—can’t see! Believe I’ll eat some insects for a while.”

  John didn’t say anything, since he knew she was irritable and didn’t want to add to her frustration. He did notice she was now walking faster and not gasping for air. It began to rain, and the pained look on her face didn’t seem to welcome chit-chat.

  At one point the trail crossed an elephant path which looked well used. When the trail occasionally took them near the edge of the Aruwimi River, they could see slide marks where crocodiles had been sunning on the shore. Although they heard monkeys and chimpanzees they rarely saw them because the jungle was so thick.

  Sony was determined to do ten miles before camp, but saw the fatigue and inexperience of carrying loaded packs in the heat were wearing on the group, so he halted them at eight miles and found a small clearing to set up camp. Once dinner had been prepared, consumed, and everything was cleaned and packed, he assigned guard duty for two men at a time in two hours shifts. John had the first watch with Jan, the doctor, who recounted all the insects that would make their home in your body. He explained the gruesome outcome of their hatching into worms or larvae, eating you from the inside out. John cringed and thought being attacked by a large carnivore might be a welcome relief. During John’s stint as protector of the sleeping, Vikki woke up and n
eeded to relieve herself. John walked with her a short distance and looked all around with his hand on his pistol. Her mission completed, she gave him a quick kiss and headed back to her sleeping bag. Soon it was Sony and Marc’s turn, and John headed to his tent, where he collapsed into a sleep so intense it bumped up close to death.

  As they woke in the morning one of the mercenaries, Ernie, said he spotted a leopard at the edge of the clearing last night, that walked by and disappeared into the forest. A fire had been left burning to ward off most creatures, or at least to give the group a mental sense of safety.

  The sun came up to meet a foggy mist, which rose from the ground and hung over the river, rising as high as the trees. Letting the tents and sleeping bags dry out before rolling them up was impossible because of the oppressive humidity. To make matters worse, the water logged gear added weight to an already almost unbearable load.

  The travelers got their second wind and made twelve miles on a narrow path, where they had to use machetes regularly and endure intermittent rain. They set up camp, prepared food and cleaned up hastily for the rewards of tent time and much-needed sleep. Less experienced men had the early guard shifts, while the para-military types had the later ones. Chimpanzees were especially loud that night, but the natives could tell by the sounds they made whether the simians sensed danger close by and interpreted their sounds as benign.

  The absence of rain allowed the expedition to make great time the next day. It had rained every day, off and on, since they began. They were slowed when the trail wandered inland into a large clearing. The natives recognized an elephant ‘bai.’ These areas are created by elephants so they can roll in the mud and reach down deep into the pools of water to extract salt from the earth. Ancient elephants, untold generations removed from the present, had made this clearing. The unmistakable bellowing of elephants could be heard not far away. Hurriedly the group crossed over toward a path some two hundred yards away, when two bull forest elephants rushed out and charged directly at the group. Sony waited for the bluffing charge that many elephants make, but quickly raised his weapon when he realized they were not stopping. Ernie and Zuka opened up with automatic fire striking the big animals primarily in their skulls. One fell and struggled to gain his footing, but a second blast of AK-47 rounds finished him off. The other bull slowed but regained his composure and charged again.

  “Vikki raise your pistol and fire!” John yelled at her as he saw her freeze when the huge bull raced directly toward them.

  “Shit—it’s goddamn huge! Vikki said as she moved close to John and started firing her .45 at the huge creature.

  This charge was met by everyone who had a weapon, and .45s opened up along with the two AKs. Dust, skin, and blood blew off and out of the enormous creature’s body, and he crashed to the ground directly to the right of were Vikki was standing. The barrel of her pistol was smoking and she held another clip in her hand, but she would not have been able to reload in time. No one knew who fired the bullet that killed the beast, and no one cared. The men wanted some of the meat for dinner, but Sony would only allow them a few minutes to cut some loose and then everyone ran across to the bai to the trail. They realized the path was an elephant trail that had been used for centuries, wide and well-packed, but offering the specter of running headlong into a herd of elephants. Hopefully the rest of the herd were behind them mourning the death of their dominant bulls. The expedition skipped their normal lunch stop and made fourteen miles before camp. At about mile eleven the elephant trail had split with a smaller trail and although they had to do some trimming along the way, they were glad to be off the pachyderm roadway and on a human trail. The evening meal featured elephant meat that had hurriedly been cut from the rear hindquarter of the beast.

  “Vikki, does it taste like chicken?” John asked, laughing.

  “It taste like elephant, and I might have been the one who killed it,” She said with a huge smile and took a bite, twisting her mouth like a wolf eating a fresh kill.

  “Damn, I’ve created a monster!”

  Each day the group made over ten miles, and on the eighth day serious trouble began. While they stopped for a prepackaged lunch near an abandoned village, two small natives walked out of the jungle about twenty yards away, took arrows from a pouch, pulled back their bows, and let two arrows fly directly at the assembly. The first arrow barely missed Marc’s head, but the second one struck Jomo in his hand and went completely through between his thumb and finger. Zuka and Ernie dropped them both with short bursts. Everyone fell to the ground or found cover behind village huts and fallen logs. At the same time, ten pygmy natives ran at incredible speed out of the forest and started shooting arrows in the direction of the group; pistol and automatic AK-47 fire stopped the small natives. John had taken off his pack and had taken a position lying behind it, when an arrow struck his sleeping bag and bounced off. Vikki watched an arrow as it arced and struck the ground next to her as did another. Twelve dead natives were lying in front of them. Although they had to protect themselves, none were happy about the killings. Jan asked the men to retrieve the native’s arrows and quivers. When he inspected the arrows in the quivers he noticed they were wrapped in leaves and smelled very bad. Afterwards, the pygmies’ arrows were thrown in the nearby river so they wouldn’t be reused.

  “Ummm…not a good sign. It means these arrows were poisoned.” Jan sniffed the arrows and detected a strong human feces odor. “Well, they have poisoned them and then shat on them for good measure,” said the doctor.

  “Tell Jomo I need to give him a shot.” Jan started digging in his medical kit for a heavy dose of antibiotic to counteract fecal bacteria on the arrow.

  He cleaned the wound with alcohol and a surface antibiotic and bandaged it. He then had Jomo drop his pants for an injection. Jomo made sure Vikki wasn’t looking, and she politely turned her head away.

  “I need to get on the short wave radio,” Jan said.

  Sony summoned the men who had been carrying the radio.

  “Doc, we need to get the fuck out of here!” Sony yelled.

  “Do you want this man to die on you?” Jan said and didn’t expect an answer.

  The doctor fired up the battery-powered unit and put out an open call to anyone within range. After adjusting his set several times he finally touched base with someone in Kinshasa. He gave them a landline number to call in Johannesburg and patched the number though. He had reached the poison control center at the biggest hospital in that city. Shortly he had the chief resident on line, an old friend of Jan’s.

  “Jan, this is Peter Hoovell. Where in the hell are you to have to call on a shortwave hook up?”

  “North Congo, next to the Aruwimi River in pygmy country. One of our men took an arrow through his hand. The arrow was wrapped in a leaf that looks like tropical night shade, but I can’t be sure. Also there were human feces on the point. I gave him a big shot and will follow up with Cipro, but I need some help on counteracting the poison. Can you help us?” Jan knew this man was his best hope.

  “Describe the leaf, Jan,” Peter requested.

  Jan went over the size, shape, color and detail of the plant. “It’s not nightshade, but it’s in the same family—but they use the roots to make their poison,” Peter said. “Write this down.” Jan produced a pencil and paper as the doctor in South Africa put together a plan of treatment that would save Jomo’s life.

  “Also, I want you to take a blood smear of the native who shot him. I’m guessing since you are alive you guys have neutralized the enemy. Later, we will check for other diseases that the Cipro might miss,” Peter said.

  “Peter, thank you so much, and I’ll give you a call when I get back. Lunch on me,” Jan said.

  “Jan, we need to move out before you get an arrow in your ass!” Sony said.

  “Sony, this will only take a minute,” Jan said calmly.

  Jan opened a kit that included slides for microscope examination and asked for Marc to take samples of the native tha
t had gotten off a lucky shot.

  Using several compounds of chemicals and a mortar and pestle, he began crushing and mixing until he had the mixture he wanted. He added water and filled a bottle with the liquid, using a funnel. He did it quickly, as he saw Sony pointing at his watch.

  “Ok, let’s get ready to move out—we’re wasting daylight.” Sony wanted to leave the area as soon as Jan finished.

  “Jomo, would you come here please? Take a regular spoonful of this every two hours until the bottle is empty, starting right now,” Jan said as he gave him the first dose. Jomo made a face but did as he was told. He also had to take a couple of cipro pills a day. The doctor told him he would die if he didn’t take the medicine, so Jomo got the message. Marc had assisted Jan and helped write down the formula in case anything happened to the doctor. Now they were both in a hurry to get the medical supplies packed up and take off behind the others.

  “Sony, I’m going to have Jomo walk with me so I can keep an eye on him,” Jan said.

  “Fine. Guns in your hands! Eyes peeled! Let’s make good time.” Sony ordered.

  The group picked up and moved on, as far away from the scene of the attack as they could in the remaining daylight. One good thing about the day was that Sony told them they were very close to the quarry.

  As they camped that night, several miles from the attack, John found Vikki walking to the edge of the jungle looking at the green glow of fungus on the jungle floor. She had a note pad in her hand.

  “In the U.S. they call that foxfire,” John said.

  “I know. I think the natives here call it chimpanzee fire because they thought maybe the monkeys caused it. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “You know some of this fungus is so bright that you can read by it.”

  “I wrote a children poem about this stuff. It’s silly. Do you want to hear it?”