by J. T. Edson
‘He is my father and the chief of all our people,’ Dawn answered, having decided that such a relationship—the latter part of which was true—might be more acceptable and suitably impressive. ‘He and all my people are great warriors and mighty archers.’
As the girl said the final words, she gestured with the bow to emphasize their meaning. None of the riders were armed in such a fashion and she did not know if they would understand the term. However, having had his attention drawn to it, the tall man was staring at the powerful weapon and displaying great interest. Clearly he knew what it was, but now realized that it differed from any other bow that he had seen. That, Dawn told herself, was not surprising.
‘Are you also a great warrior?’ the woman challenged.
‘If I need to be,’ Dawn answered, her feminine feelings bristling with annoyance at the other’s attitude.
Raising his eyes from the bow, the tall man subjected Dawn to another scrutiny. She noticed the difference in his behavior. It seemed that he was no longer primarily interested in her physical attractions, but was sizing her up in the light of her statement.
‘Why don’t you call for your cousin and his warriors to join you?’ he finally suggested, twisting his features into what he probably imagined was a friendly smile. If you come upstream, there is a place where we can cross and make friends.’
On hearing the girl’s response to her question, the woman had snapped her gaze to the tall man and was studying him in a calculating, almost suspicious seeming, fashion. Then she stared back at Dawn, but in a less mocking and more hostile manner.
‘Yes, why don’t you?’ the gold-clad beauty went on, but there was neither friendship nor a welcome in her voice. ‘We have had a successful hunt and there is more than enough meat for you, your cousin—and all his many warriors.’
There was something in the contralto tones that warned Dawn that her bluff had failed and the speaker realized she was alone. No matter how genuine the man’s invitation might have been, the woman did not duplicate it. For some reason, she had turned from being mocking and derisive into a bitter enemy. Apparently she had detected some motive of which she did not approve in the man’s change of attitude towards the girl.
In addition to carrying on the conversation, Dawn had been keeping the second party of riders under observation. They were, in her opinion, still paying too much attention to the north of her position. It was as if, like the tall man, they were expecting to see something in that direction.
Or somebody!
Suddenly, the smaller of the women in the silver garments pointed in an excited manner. Looking in the direction she was indicating, Dawn realized that the couple had been holding her attention deliberately. They had hoped to prevent her noticing a pair of riders who had topped a ridge about half a mile away. Mounted on zebras, the two men were dressed in the same way as the eagle’s attendant and were armed with lances. Even as the girl located them, they urged their mounts forward at a faster pace.
All too well Dawn realized what the riders’ presence on her side of the river meant. Her every instinct gave warning that it would be unwise to fall into their hands. Up to that moment, she had believed that she had nothing to fear from the zebra-riding people. None of them were carrying bows and the distance was too great for a lance, even if it had been designed for throwing, to be of any serious danger. She could have watched its flight and dodged it.
The approaching pair had changed the situation drastically. They were on Dawn’s side of the chasm and would travel much faster than she could on foot. For all that, she intended to try and reach the woodland. If their mounts were anything to go by, the people were plains’ dwellers and, once among the trees, she would have an advantage over them.
With that in mind, Dawn swung on her heel and started to run. She was still carrying the bow with an arrow nocked to the string. To have removed and returned it to the quiver on her back would have taken seconds which might prove vital to her escape. So she accepted the awkwardness of running with it in a position of readiness.
Letting out a furious exclamation, the tall man signaled for the riders to move faster. With her beautiful features twisted into lines of savage satisfaction, the woman by his side let the one-piece reins fall on to her mount’s neck. Reaching out with her right hand, she plucked the hood from the head of the harpy eagle.
‘Gaze-ho!’ she snapped.
Hearing the familiar command, following the removal of the hood which had acted as a blindfold, the enormous bird crouched on its perch. Its powerful body was quivering with eagerness and its head swung until the cruel red eyes were attracted by Dawn s fleeing figure.
‘What are you do—?’ the tall man began, twisting on his saddle to glare at his female companion. Seeing what she was doing, he continued hastily, ‘No! I want her ali—!’
‘Kill!’ ordered the woman, ignoring the protest.
Concentrating on the ground over which she was speeding, so .as to avoid stepping into a hole or on a stone that might turn under her foot and cause her to stumble, Dawn suddenly became aware of the danger that was approaching. It was coming from a source much closer than the two riders who were galloping in her direction. She heard the swishing of heavy wings and knew instantly what the sound portended.
It was, the girl told herself, something that she ought to have expected and taken into account. Everything about the eagle had pointed to it having been trained for falconry. Instead of thinking about the ease with which she could have avoided a thrown lance, or growing complacent because the riders did not carry bows, she should have guessed how they could attempt to ensure her capture. While she might be safe from the lances, the eagle could fly across the chasm and reach her without any difficulty.
Throwing a quick glance at the two riders, Dawn wondered if she could turn, deal with the bird, and still beat them to the woodland. Not that, she realized, she had any real choice in the matter. She might—and it would only just be might—outrun the men, but the bird would be upon her long before she attained the safety of the trees.
However, if Dawn halted for long enough to drive away or kill the eagle, the two men would arrive and cut her off.
Chapter Three – You Take Woman. Go!
Almost before the echoes of the scream had ceased, Bunduki was bending to retrieve his bow. This time, however, he liberated an arrow from the bow-quiver and made his weapon ready for use. All the time his hands were moving, he watched the left side of the clearing.
As yet, the dense nature of the bushes was preventing the blond giant from seeing the person who had screamed. Nor could he discover the cause of her alarm. With the wind, what there was of it, blowing from the north, his sense of smell was of no assistance in gathering further information. However, his ears suggested that there was more than one pursuer.
Suddenly, a feminine figure dashed from the mouth of the game trail. Although Bunduki had not expected her to be Dawn, it was still something of a relief when a stranger came into view.
Long, straight black hair streamed behind the running girl and her very pretty face was distorted by an expression of horror. She was brown skinned, like a Polynesian, about five-foot-three in height and possessed exceptionally well-developed contours. They were made all the more obvious due to the skimpy manner in which she was dressed. Her clothing consisted of a short skirt made from twisted strands of grass—and not too many of them—and a small halter that looked like a strip of colobus monkey’s skin. Unarmed, and clearly very frightened, she sped recklessly across the open ground. Instead of giving any indication that she was aware of the blond giant’s presence, she ran towards the river.
‘This way!’ Bunduki called, hoping that she would understand.
At the sound of his voice, the girl showed her first sign of realizing that another human being was close by. Staring at Bunduki, she gave a croaking cry of mingled alarm and relief. She started to swerve in his direction, tripped and went sprawling to the ground. After rolling over a
couple of times, she halted in a crouching posture and covered her face with her arms. Sobs of terror and exhaustion shook at her scantily covered and voluptuous little body.
Striding forward, Bunduki had just reached the girl when the first of her pursuers emerged from the undergrowth. Studying the creature, he could understand the reason for her panic-stricken flight.
Bunduki’s first thought was that the creature might be a gorilla, but a second look led him to revise his opinion. While it was coated with coarse brown hair and had the short-necked, projecting face of an ape, it ran with an upright stance and with an ease that no gorilla or chimpanzee could duplicate.
Other details began to leap to Bunduki’s attention. The creature’s broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms suggested that it travelled by brachiation, swinging from branch to branch through the trees. Yet its legs were long and straight, with feet more suited to bipedal walking or running on the ground. In height, it just topped six foot. While anything but puny, weighing maybe three hundred pounds, it lacked the massive bulk of a bull gorilla. Still more significantly, as far as identification was concerned, it was carrying a six foot long, fairly straight branch which had been broken to leave a sharp point at the forward end. From the way the creature was handling the branch, he—there was no doubt as to the sex—was aware of its potential as a rudimentary, yet effective spear.
No gorilla knew how to make, nor use, weapons. Even the more intelligent chimpanzee would only throw or wield a stick, wildly, and none too effectively for defense.
The fact that the creature was armed in such a way might prove it was not a gorilla, but it also produced an argument to the alternative which had come to Bunduki’s mind. If he had not seen the branch-spear, he would have thought that it was an Australopithecus. One of the same species which his adoptive father’s American biographer had always referred to as the Great Anthropoid Apes, but who had really been an omnivorous pre-human phase of hominid evolution. Somewhat smaller and lighter than the gorilla, which had frequently shared their domains, xxiv the Mangani had possessed a higher standard of intelligence. However, although Lord Grey-stoke had once taught some of them to row a boat, xxv those of the race with whom he had been associated did not know how to make, or even use, such a simple weapon as the branch-spear.
Thrusting aside his thoughts on the creature’s possible identity, the blond giant prepared to deal with him. Whether he was a more advanced kind of Australopithecus, or some later species like Homo Erectus Erectus xxvi—which, it has been established, was capable of making and using primitive tools—he was certainly dangerous.
At the sight of Bunduki moving protectively between him and the girl, the man-ape—which was the most apt description the blond giant could think of—came to a halt.
Three more of the creatures, all just as obviously masculine, lumbered from the game trail. Two were smaller than the first, reddish brown in color and armed with branch-spears. Larger and heavier than the rest, the fourth was almost black and grasped a thick, knobbly three-foot length of tree root in the manner of a club. Clearly he was the leader of the group. Although he had been bringing up the rear, he pushed to the front. From his lips, as they advanced, came three rumbling, almost grunting sounds.
Much to Bunduki’s surprise, he found that he could understand the big male’s guttural words.
‘Bul-Mok kill!’ the man-ape had announced, his name meaning “Big Father”.
‘Keep away, or Tar-Ara kill!’
To add to Bunduki’s astonishment, he found that he was able to answer the threat in the same kind of primitive tongue. Although he had been encouraged by his adoptive parents to make the most of his facility for learning languages, he had not had the opportunity to acquire any extensive knowledge of Mangani. Nor, with them being so close to extinction, had there seemed to be any point in him doing so.
Not that the blond giant believed he was consciously speaking the Mangani dialect when he gave the warning and translated his name as White Lightning. For some reason that he could not comprehend, his brain was registering the thoughts in English and they were leaving his mouth in the form of simple, yet alien word-sounds.
Clearly the men-apes were puzzled at meeting a human being who was able to address them in their own primitive tongue. They came to a stop, with the younger males lowering their weapons. They were waiting to see how their father wanted the situation handled.
Deep growls rumbled in Bul-Mok’s throat and he swayed uncertainly on his spread apart feet. Glaring at the blond giant, he tried to decide what would be his best line of action. Faced with a dangerous creature of another species, the usual thing would have been for him and his sons to launch a mass attack. However, against one of their own kind who had strayed into their territory, Bul-Mok—in his capacity as dominant male of the family—alone must assert his authority.
Although Bunduki did not know it, Bul-Mok had never seen a human being until coming across the girl. While puzzled by the blond giant’s hairless body and strange features, the big man-ape was unable to decide whether he could be classed as a Mangani or not. The answer to the puzzle would tell Bul-Mok how to deal with the intruder.
‘This Bul-Mok’s land!’ the dominant male stated, beating at his chest with his left fist. ‘Bul-Mok kill!’
‘Tar-Ara mighty fighter,’ Bunduki countered, although holding the bow prevented him from repeating the others gesture. ‘Not afraid of Bul-Mok!’
Throwing back his head, the dominant male thundered out a challenge. There was no doubt about it, Bunduki told himself. It was the call of a bull Mangani. What was more, he knew how he must respond. While he had learned only a little of the Manganis simple language, he could make all of the various signal calls. So he replied in kind and his deep-throated roar shattered the air.
Hearing the awesome sound so close above her, the girl crouching at Bunduki’s feet looked up. A low moan burst from her as she realized that the second bellow, no less savage in timbre than the one which had preceded it, must have been made by the giant white man. Burying her face in her hands once more, she moaned incoherently and tried to make herself even smaller.
Discovering that the strange white creature not only spoke Mangani but made the correct response to the challenge roar was disconcerting to Bul-Mok. It presented a situation which severely taxed his limited intelligence and reasoning powers.
Should he order his sons to charge?
Or must he treat the intruder as a trespasser of their own kind, strange-looking but a Mangani for all that, who must be dealt with by himself?
All Bul-Mok’s instincts warned him that the big stranger was a powerful and dangerous challenger. Bearing that in mind, the man-ape sought for a way to avoid a direct confrontation—but without letting it be apparent to the other members of his family that he was doing so. His eyes roamed the clearing, avoiding having to meet Tar-Aras gaze, coming to rest on the dead capybara. Returning his attention to the blond giant, he decided to offer a compromise which, if accepted, would leave the next move to his oldest son.
It was a shrewd piece of reasoning for a Mangani. Bal-Tak, “First Born”, was rapidly approaching the point when he would make a bid to overthrow Bul-Mok and assume control of the family group. Seeing how he fared against Tar-Ara would allow the dominant male to estimate his potential as a rival.
‘We take food,’ Bul-Mok offered. ‘You take woman. Go!’
‘Woman mine. Food mine!’ Bunduki snapped back. ‘You go!’
Greed and selfishness had not prompted the hostile answer. While Bunduki still was not absolutely sure of the kind of sub-human hominids he was up against, he could imagine how they would react to any suggestion of weakness on his part. That was how the younger males would have regarded his acceptance of their father’s offer. Like most primates, the Mangani lived in social groups controlled by a male hierarchy. The largest, strongest male was the leader with the next toughest ranking second and so on down the scale. Each member could only retain, or i
mprove, his position in the community by bluff or actual fighting prowess.
For Bunduki to have yielded would have been construed as an admission of inferiority to Bul-Mok. Even if he had allowed the big blond and the girl to go, the next largest of the males would have been compelled to make a challenge and establish his standing in the group. By acting as he had, Bunduki was hoping that he would have only the leader to contend with.
Confronted with such open and direct defiance, Bul-Mok was placed in a difficult position. His superiority was being threatened in the fashion of the Mangani. That ruled out the possibility of him ordering his sons to attack Tar-Ara. So he must act on his own, or he would be in danger of losing his dominance over the family group. With that not unimportant consideration in mind, he took a firmer grip on his club.
‘Bul-Mok kill!’ the Mangani thundered, swinging the heavy weapon over his head and lumbering forward.
Instantly, Bunduki brought the bow to the shooting position and made his draw with smoothly flowing speed. With the arrow at its anchor point, he sighted on the centre of Bul-Mok’s broad chest.
Still too far away for his club to be of any use, the dominant Manganis life hung on a very delicate balance. If any of his sons had made a move to help him, he would have died. As it was, having no desire to kill him if it could be avoided, the blond giant did not release the arrow. The three younger bulls seemed content to leave matters in their father s hands. Bul-Mok’s lack of concern over the threat of the arrow suggested that such a weapon was unknown to him. If he was killed in what his sons might regard as an inexplicable manner, they could be frightened into making a mass attack. Even utilizing the benefits of the bow-quiver for rapidity of reloading, or wielding his bowie knife—which would probably be an equally unknown factor to the Mangani—he doubted whether he would be able to fight off all three of them. Certainly, while doing it, and in the event of being successful, he would receive wounds which could incapacitate him and prevent him-from continuing his search for Dawn until he had recovered.