In Search of Goliathus Hercules

by Jennifer Angus

  On their final night in the village, an old man was carried to the headman’s house. He told a story from his childhood of a boy killed by Goliathus hercules. “No one saw the insects attack the child, but his body was found in the jungle,” he said. “How do we know it was the giant insects and not a tiger attack? Well, here is the very strange part. All around him were the remains of several of the creatures. It was as if the boy had interrupted a fierce battle between the insects themselves! What kind of barbaric animal attacks its own kind?”

  A low murmur arose from the crowd that had gathered to hear the story. Then the old man lifted his left hand. He was missing his index finger.

  “My finger, bitten off by the demon you call Goliathus hercules! I was a young man. I was climbing a tree in the forest. I had seen a bird’s nest, and I wanted to collect the eggs. As I reached up and put my hand upon the next branch, I felt the most unbearable pain! My hand was wet and pouring with blood. I thought that I might faint. Scurrying away, I looked up and saw the beast. Don’t let anyone tell you it doesn’t exist! This creature was about the length of my hand and wearing a golden crown!”

  The Cave

  Henri lay awake the night before they entered the jungle. This had all been his idea, and his friends were putting themselves in harm’s way for something that might well be a fool’s errand. Between Goliathus hercules and Agatha Black, someone was bound to get hurt.

  And where was his nemesis? Henri had no doubt she was lurking somewhere. He rolled over on his mat, sleep unattainable. It seemed that he was finally within reach of capturing Goliathus hercules, but he’d made no progress in finding his father. He could not leave Malaya until, good news or bad, he knew the truth about him. He had uncovered nothing new despite numerous inquiries in Kuala Lumpur. Here in the village no one could recollect seeing a British man walking into the jungle. Henri’s only hope was that if his father had come to Kuala Selangor, he might have entered the jungle through another village.

  Henri turned over again. It was hard to get comfortable. The problem wasn’t the hot weather. In fact, it suited him. No, it was a considerably more serious issue that caused his discomfort now. Where should he put his extra set of limbs? When he slept, they always seemed to be in the way so that he could not find a relaxed sleeping position. In the day, he tucked them under his shirt, but then it felt like he was wearing a straitjacket.

  The people in the village immediately recognized Henri’s insect-like qualities, but rather than being repulsed, they were amazed. To them, he was the living embodiment of the popular character Serangga-orang, hero of a dozen tribal legends. Serangga-orang, or Insect Man, was a wily inhabitant of the jungle. In the tribal tales, he was a master of disguise whose cleverness got him out of scrapes with tigers, crocodiles, and pythons. He had a beautiful singing voice that allowed him to entrance his enemies and escape harm every time. And so Henri had become a celebrity in the village. He was like the Pied Piper. Wherever he went, he was followed by at least twenty children. At times he got tired of his audience and would shoo them away, but before long they would creep back to observe him again.

  At last Henri succumbed to sleep, but it was interrupted by nightmares in which he was Serangga-orang trying to outwit his sworn enemy, Agatha Black. This time she was a bat that flew toward him with her mouth open wide as if to swallow him in one gulp. Instead of flying away upon his new wings, he opened his mouth to sing the song that would enchant her, but for some reason he couldn’t utter a sound.

  The shriek of a bat woke Henri. No one else moved, and he knew that it was only his acute sense of hearing that allowed him to discern the bat’s call. Despite the tropical heat, he felt a chill run down his back.

  In the morning the expedition party set out. The jungle was a very noisy place. From high in the trees, monkeys swung from branch to branch, often screeching back and forth to one another. The high-pitched voices of cicadas provided a constant drone broken only by birdcalls and crickets’ and grasshoppers’ chirrups.

  They walked slowly so as not to miss a thing. Reaching a mossy clearing, they were delighted to see many large grasshoppers hopping and flying about. Their wings varied from pink to blue to purple. The party decided to have their lunch there. Robin and Billy brought out the cameras while Maestro Antonio took out his journal and watercolor paints. As they ate lunch, one of their local porters reminisced about a nearby cave he had visited when he was a child. It was near a waterfall where he had gone swimming. “That might be a good place to investigate,” said Henri. Earlier sightings of Goliathus hercules had noted that the creature seemed to like damp conditions. What could be better than a cave?

  After lunch Mat and Abdul, the porter, led Henri, Robin, Billy, and Maestro Antonio toward the cave. The bush was so dense that they were frequently brought to a standstill as the leaders hacked at the growth with their machetes.

  The heat of the day had reached its peak and it was nearly four o’clock by the time they arrived at the mouth of a large, very dark cave. Trees and bushes obscured the entrance. Again, Mat and Abdul pulled out their machetes and began to hack away at the vegetation. When enough had been cleared, the party entered with lanterns lit. Mat tied a rope to one of the trees near the entrance. As they walked into the dark nothingness of the cavern, he let the rope out so that they wouldn’t lose their way when returning. They could always follow it back to the light and fresh air.

  “Ew! It smells disgusting in here,” complained Robin.

  Mat laughed. “It’s the bats. Or I should say, it’s their droppings that smell. You’ll get used to it.”

  Henri and Maestro Antonio lifted their lanterns up, exposing hundreds, if not thousands, of silently sleeping bats hanging from the ceiling of the cave. Robin wasn’t the only one who shuddered as Henri recalled his dream of the previous night.

  “Do you think anything else lives in here?” asked Billy as they walked farther into the cave.

  “No big animals. There are probably cave toads and some blind snakes that feed on the bats,” said Mat. “Nothing that would be interested in people, I don’t think.”

  Suddenly there was a light—a small pinpoint of bright, greenish light. Everyone tensed. A moment later, there were several more lights, and then a second later, there were hundreds all blinking in unison!

  “Fireflies!” exclaimed Billy. They all laughed. Much to the surprise of Mat and the porter, Billy, Robin, and Maestro Antonio, Henri called out the traditional insect greeting of “Are you hungry?” A thousand responses came back, all in the affirmative. They laughed some more. Henri began an earnest discussion with the fireflies nearest him.

  “Greetings! My name is Henri Bell. My friends and I are on a quest, a quest to find Goliathus hercules. Do you know where he or she is to be found?”

  “Why do you wish to find the demon?” came the response.

  Henri was startled. Goliathus hercules must be quite a tyrant if even other insects referred to it as a demon. He wasn’t sure how to answer their question. Why did he want to find Goliathus hercules? He supposed because it was a challenge. No one had ever succeeded. Wasn’t that the reason that all explorers faced hardships and risked their lives, simply to do something that had never been done before? How could he explain that to the fireflies?

  Rather than answer, he responded with another question. “Why do you call him the demon?”

  They laughed. “You shall see soon enough! Follow us to the end of the cave. We must hurry. They sleep. It is safe now. ”Then they flew off deeper into the cave.

  Henri told the others the gist of his conversation, and they cautiously moved farther into the cave, following the light of the fireflies. As they moved farther and farther back in the cavern, they saw something glowing a greenish-yellow. They had reached the end of the cave. Hanging from the wall and upon the floor were the largest beetle pupae they had ever seen. Lit by the glow of the fireflies, they had a ghostly appearance. There were at least one hundred of the silently slumber
ing creatures.

  “It’s them!” whispered Henri as he shone the light upon the unmoving masses.

  “They’re huge!” whispered Billy.

  “They look like corpses all lying side by side,” whispered Robin.

  “I saw a mummy in the British Museum, and these remind me of it,” said Maestro Antonio. “It was all wrapped up tight, just like these.”

  “Do you think we can take photographs? Will we wake them?” asked Billy.

  “I don’t think you can wake them,” said Henri. “This is their last stage before they emerge as fully grown adults. You can see their horns and their legs, but I don’t think that they can move until they have gone through full metamorphosis. It’s like they’re in a deep sleep.”

  “I agree,” said Maestro Antonio, “but I think we should be careful. We don’t know anything about their, um…parenting style. There may be adults around to protect the pupae from any harm.”

  Carefully, they shone the light around the cave, checking for any movement or sound beyond that of the fireflies. None came. “Nothing,” said Henri, “but I think we should make this quick just in case. This would be a bad place to be ambushed.” And he wasn’t just thinking of Goliathus hercules. The bats had disturbed him. There was a menacing presence in the vicinity. He could feel it!

  Quickly they set up the cameras, and Maestro Antonio and Henri pulled out their journals and began to feverishly sketch and record the details. Mat and the porter, Abdul, kept watch. Slowly, Henri noticed the light was dimming. He looked up and saw that the fireflies were leaving. He called to them, “Where are you going?”

  “The hour has come, Henri Bell. Danger lurks. We must not tarry here! Good-bye, good luck!” they called out.

  In twenty minutes, they had completed their documentation. The fireflies’ warning had set the party on edge. What danger was associated with the hour? Would the adult Goliathus hercules return at dusk? Hastily they exited the cave, not wishing to find out.

  Serangga-Orang

  They began the march back to their camp. Everyone was excited that on their first day in the jungle they had come remarkably close to their quest and lived to tell about it! Arriving to camp exhausted but exhilarated the cave explorers sat down to eat.

  “We’re on the right track! We found the pupae, and where there are babies, there must be parents, right? Why don’t we set up camp near the cave tomorrow?” suggested Billy.

  “Yes, I suppose it is a good place,” Henri agreed reluctantly, but he didn’t like the idea of being near the bat cave at all.

  “What does Goliathus hercules eat?” asked Robin. “From the stories the other night, I think he might be a carnivorous beetle. I think we should put out some bait.”

  “Good idea,” said Maestro Antonio. “The old man got bitten climbing a tree, so perhaps we should put the bait in a tree and keep watch. It may be that they’re nocturnal so we should keep watch at night.”

  Henri had to agree it was a good plan, and what he particularly liked was the fact that they would lure Goliathus hercules. They would be in control. Henri instructed Mat to hang the bait—the remains of a chicken carcass left over from dinner—on a teak tree just beyond the camp. He assigned the men in shifts to watch it all night long. Henri himself took the first watch. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to find the bait attractive that evening.

  They broke camp in the morning and moved up by the cave. During the day, they roamed the area, recording even more new species of insects. Much to their disappointment, as night approached, it started to rain. They reset the bait and settled in for a long, miserable watch. Maestro Antonio and Henri took the first shift. But once again, their shift ended with no sign of Goliathus hercules.

  Henri returned to his tent and had just fallen into a deep slumber when he was awakened by a bloodcurdling scream.

  The scream was followed by the sounds of yelling and people running. Henri leaped out of the tent and hurtled toward the hubbub. The rain was still pouring down, and there was much confusion. Mat was there with Abdul cradled in his arms, blood streaming from Abdul’s face.

  “What happened?” yelled Henri. In a few moments, Billy and Maestro Antonio were standing beside Henri, looking down at the unfortunate man.

  “He says he was sitting, watching. He heard a noise, so he got up with the net and slowly walked toward the tree. He doesn’t know what happened next, but something bit him!”

  Robin brought the first-aid kit and convinced Abdul to move his hands away from his face. They all saw the something, whatever it was, had bitten his nose full-on, leaving a deep gash that would cause a scar.

  In the morning, four porters accompanied Abdul back to the village. Two of them informed Henri they would not be returning.

  It rained again that night, and with the rain, the mosquitoes and leeches returned. Along with wet clothes and damp tents, patience was running thin and so was the goodwill of their party.

  “Let’s give it another two days,” Henri told his companions as they gathered in his tent. “If it continues to rain, then we’ll go back to the village and wait until it stops. Then we’ll head out again.” Everyone agreed this was a reasonable plan.

  Just then, Mat came bursting in. “Henri! Everyone! You must see!” He opened his hands and laid before them the elytra of nearly a dozen beetles. They were black, edged with flecks of gold!

  “It’s from Goliathus hercules! They’re just like the things the men had around their necks as charms,” shouted Robin.

  “Where did you get them?” asked Billy.

  Mat explained that as two of the porters who had accompanied Abdul returned to the camp, they had come across a goat carcass. “The goat must have strayed from the village. The Goliathus hercules ripped it apart! Savages,” he muttered. “The men, they found these littered about the remains.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Robin.

  “Remember the story the old man told about the boy who died?” replied Maestro Antonio. “It’s as if the creature goes mad with bloodlust! In the thrill of the kill, they tear apart their own comrades! I’ve read of piranhas—a kind of fish in South America—with a similar bloodthirsty nature.”

  Henri, looking thoughtful, announced: “I have a new plan. I’ll be the bait!”

  “No!” was the resounding response from his companions.

  “Henri, that’s crazy. Even in the insect world they’re called demons!” said Robin.

  “I’ve made up my mind.” Henri took off his shirt, and his third set of limbs was exposed.

  Mat gasped and then said, “Don’t worry, Serangga-orang has never been defeated! He will outwit them.”

  When night fell, Henri moved away from the camp and closer to the mouth of the cave. Hidden behind trees and makeshift palm screens, the entire expedition party nervously waited, ready to spring if, and only if, he gave the signal.

  Henri had decided he would reveal his true self to Goliathus hercules. He wore no shirt and no hat, thus exposing his most obvious insect traits. It was still raining. With his nervous energy, Henri didn’t feel like sitting or standing in one place. He strolled about, walking in circles and carefully listening for any approaching sounds. At last the rain slowed and finally stopped. A wind picked up, moving the clouds away to expose a full moon.

  As he gazed up to look at the moon, he heard them! They approached from the opposite direction of the cave.

  It was hard to know how many. They weren’t close enough yet to see, but the moonlight would make it much easier. These beetles talked among themselves in voices perceptible only to his keen ears. There was nothing sinister in their conversation. They spoke of the things insects always talk about—food! Henri was so excited he would at last see this creature of myth and legend that he could have laughed in delight if only he weren’t so scared that he might be tonight’s meal! They must have picked up his scent, for they seemed to move without hesitation or detours.

  Actual Size

  Goliathus hercul
es had no idea he could hear them, Henri realized, so he would have the element of surprise! It seemed an eternity until he saw the first fleck of gold twinkle in the moonlight. It was like a sparkling wave coming toward him, the beetles’ numbers indistinguishable as they moved as one. When they were about twenty feet away he spoke: “Greetings, Goliathus hercules, king of all insects.” The wave stopped abruptly. There was some muttering. Then an authoritative voice responded, “Greetings, stranger. Now prepare to die!” The wave moved forward again. Robin was right. There would be no small talk. These were insects of action and very few words. Instinctively Henri took a quick step back, but before he could say anything else, there was a terrible high-pitched shriek.

  Startled, Henri turned toward the cry. The advancing mob paused too. The sound had come from the cave. To his amazement, hundreds and hundreds of bats were hurtling out of its opening. Among them, a tall figure emerged from the mouth of the cave. In the moonlight, Henri could see the long black dress and the smile, the smile like someone showing their teeth to the dentist. Agatha Black!

  No! thought Henri. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t suspected she’d appear. But now that he faced both a rampaging horde of carnivorous beetles and his archenemy at the same time, Henri wasn’t sure who he should defend himself against first! Either way, things didn’t look good.

  Another shriek pierced his ears. The bats soared high in the air and then dove down to scoop up the large beetles. Henri could hear the shouts of the Goliathus hercules: “It’s a trap, it’s a trap!”

  The bats attempted to fly off with the beetles, but their prey was heavy and fought back with deadly ferocity using their powerful mandibles. A few bats managed to get off the ground, but they were quickly forced to drop their snapping prey in midair. Henri watched as one of the monstrous creatures fell toward earth, spreading open its wings, for all beetles are able to fly. Catching the air, it flew remarkably well for such a large species.