“Billy, those were reports by people who sighted Goliathus hercules, but they never had the opportunity to study them,” said Robin. “We have the chance to show that they’re not the bloodthirsty beasts they’ve been made out to be. I think he’s charming!”
The cage was just for show in case anyone else on the ship entered the cabin. Then the beetle would be locked inside, where he would make a great show of acting like the fearsome warrior he was purported to be—rattling the cage and pushing his pinchers through the bars. Otherwise, he was free to move about. Sometimes he flew about the cabin, but more often he paced the desk and peppered Henri with questions about his life and where they were going.
This evening, as the friends talked, the beetle had chewed a pencil but spit out the shavings with a sound of great disgust. He had speared an eraser with one of his horns and caused a great deal of commotion when it got stuck, knocking over a bottle of ink and leaving inky footprints all over the desk. While Billy, Maestro Antonio, and Henri cleaned up the ink, Goliathus hercules stood still and let Robin remove the eraser. With Robin he was always at his most “charming,” as she described it.
Now he concentrated his efforts on opening Henri’s five-year diary. As the others talked and watched him, he successfully managed to get his horns between the pages and easily open the journal. He then strutted onto the open page and sat down.
“Agatha Black may not speak insect, but look at him,” accused Billy. “He’s reading your diary, Henri! He understands English!”
“Oh really, Billy! He’s not reading.” Robin lifted the beetle away and, upon doing so, discovered that he had left his “calling card,” so to speak, on the page.
“Oh! You’re a naughty boy! You know you shouldn’t do that,” she said in insect.
“Trust me, Henri, he planned that!” said Billy.“ How do you know he’s not reading? Henri knew a fly who could read.”
“That’s true,” said Henri. “But I think my Great Aunt Georgie taught him. This insect grew up in the jungle, so I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Haven’t you noticed? He’s always listening. He acts like he understands,” replied Billy. He put his head down on the desk so that he was eye to eye with the creature. “You’ll see I’m right. I’ll be watching you, Prince Charming!”
Henri had to admit that the insect—or Prince, as they dubbed him shortly after that conversation—was rather unusual. Mysterious? Perhaps, but he was the equivalent of a trained soldier. A prisoner of war would never divulge sensitive information. He might just be trying to protect himself and his kind. Hopefully, in time, Prince would come to trust them.
Later that night Henri decided to take a stroll on deck by himself. The sea was calm and the stars glittered in the sky. He thought about their journey to capture Goliathus hercules. It had been exhausting, dangerous, and frustrating, but nonetheless exhilarating. But Henri still had so many questions.
Only one mystery had been truly solved. His father, after disappearing four years ago, could finally be declared dead. He had gone into the jungle for reasons unknown and had never returned to collect his precious photographs.
Tears rolled down Henri’s face.
Prince
The explorers were within days of arriving in London’s port. They had sent advance notice of their successful expedition, and they expected that not only would Henri’s mother and Professor Young be there to greet them, but also a number of dignitaries from the Entomological and Geographical societies.
“There might even be someone from the royal palace!” Robin suggested excitedly as she practiced a little curtsy before them.
Billy would normally have taken the opportunity to make fun of Robin, but in his own excitement, he added, “Maybe the news of our capturing Goliathus hercules has been leaked to the press. There could be hundreds of people at the dock, all jostling for a view of us and, of course, Prince Charming himself!”
“Speaking of the devil, he’s rather busy tearing up that novel you were reading,” remarked Maestro Antonio, staring down at the busy beetle, who had furtively set about shredding the book to ribbons.
“Why, you mean-spirited, conniving, good-for-nothing bug!” Billy grabbed one of Henri’s hats that was lying nearby and was about to swat the beetle with it, but Prince was already in the air, flying toward Robin. He landed on her shoulder and affectionately scratched at her neck with his horns.
“As usual! Hiding behind your girlfriend!” said Billy in disgust. “If you weren’t so valuable, I would happily throw you out the porthole and be done with you!”
“Billy, you should know better than to leave your book on the desk,” said Robin. “Haven’t you learned that he loves paper? He just can’t seem to resist. I think he does it to exercise his pinchers. He’s keeping in fighting form.”
“If it’s a fight he’s looking for, then he’s got a willing opponent!” said Billy. “You’re right, though; he does have a thing for paper. He reads everything he can get his grubby claws on.”
The other three rolled their eyes as if to say, “Not that again!”
“But what I notice is he only rips up my things!” In insect, Billy said, “What have I ever done to you?!”
Since Henri was the only one able to hear the beetle without the hearing aid, he spoke for Prince. “He asks how he was to know that the paper was important to you?”
“It wasn’t just paper! It was a book! A good book about pirates and buried treasure. I hadn’t finished it, and now I never will.”
Laughing, Henri said, “He says stories are for children. You’re almost a man.”
“Ugh! Stupid bug!” retorted Billy.
“Don’t say that, Billy! He’s not stupid,” said Robin.
“Look, next time, why don’t you ask?” Billy said sulkily.
“He says we were all busy speaking English, and no one was listening to him. He needed the paper to make a nest.”
“Ugh!” Billy said in the direction of the beetle. “You’re worse than a rodent! Just a few more days! I won’t be sad not seeing you every day.”
“He says he feels the same way about you.”
Everyone laughed except Billy. He just grunted in disgust.
Unlike Billy, Henri was quite fond of Prince. He suspected that the beetle was a practical joker. Spending all day and night in the cabin was very dull, and plotting pranks to rile Billy likely helped pass the hours.
One day Henri showed Prince the insects they had collected during the expedition that were considered new discoveries. The beetle very obligingly told what he knew of each species—its type, its name in the jungle, its habits, and often, a description of how the insect actually tasted.
“Very sweet and juicy. One of those is a great way to start off the day!” and “A little small, but they’re salty. Ten or so make a nice appetizer.”
Given that Prince seemed to have sampled most of the specimens in his jungle habitat, Henri was left with the impression that Goliathus hercules must be at the top of its food chain.
And so Henri and Prince passed the days of the voyage in agreeable conversation. Like Prince, Henri had been confined to his cabin for most of the voyage. His safety was not at issue. Unfortunately, it was his appearance that drew unwanted attention. Only at night could he steal up to the deck for a breath of fresh air. Usually he didn’t stay long because the cool breeze stiffened his joints.
And Henri had shrunk even more! He was now eighteen inches shorter than Robin, according to the measurements that Maestro Antonio regularly took for Professor Young. With the sleeves of a sweater dragging on the ground, Henri shuffled about the deck less like a thirteen-year-old boy and more like an elderly man—or as Billy had aptly described, “like an ancient troll.” Robin accused Billy of being insensitive, but Henri appreciated his honesty. He would not be able to make public appearances in the two-legged world for much longer.
Confined as he was, Henri turned to Prince as his confidant. He wasn’t sure it w
as a good idea, given Billy’s suspicions, but the beetle was indeed a good listener.
“I’m not really Serranga-orang,” Henri confessed one day.
“What do you mean? You’re half man and half insect,” replied Prince.
“I am right now, but I think I’m becoming more and more insect-like. Serranga-orang is a character from a folktale, a story made up to amuse children and, I suppose, to explain the unexplainable.”
The beetle looked at him shrewdly and then said, “I think most would find you unexplainable. How do you know you’re not Serranga-orang?”
“Well, I haven’t lived for hundreds of years luring my enemies with song and outwitting them with my cleverness.”
“How long have you lived?” asked Prince.
“I’m thirteen, and my only enemy, Agatha Black, seems to outwit and escape me again and again.”
“Maybe Serranga-orang is what you will become?”
“I’m not sure that’s who I want to be. Right now I feel like I would rather be all man or all insect.”
“It’s less complicated,” agreed Prince.
“Some days I think Professor Young is right,” said Henri. “I’m on the verge of experiencing something entirely unheard of or imagined. It’s like being an explorer or a pioneer. It’s exciting! Do you think I’ll be able to fly?”
“Perhaps,” said Prince. “I can tell you that flying is most enjoyable. One gets a very good view, and it’s much faster than walking. It’s also a good way to escape one’s enemies,” he said ominously.
Henri nodded. “That’s just the thing. Other days I’m frightened. What challenges and predators are lurking out there? Is there anything you’re afraid of?”
The beetle bobbed his horns.
“Man,” was all he said.
Once again Henri was filled with guilt. “Sorry. That was a bit thoughtless of me. Don’t worry—I’ll protect you. I won’t let any harm come to you. I promise.”
“I know you will protect me as best you can, Serranga-orang,” said Prince.
“Would you call me Henri? That’s my real name.”
“As you wish, Henri.”
A Terrible Glorious Homecoming
“Oh, Henri!” cried his mother.
She knelt down beside him and hugged him close, then slowly pulled back to look at him. “You’ve changed…You’re so, so…” She stumbled, trying to find the words. “So grown up,” she said finally. ”I’m so happy you’re home!”
She pulled him close again, rubbed her cheek against his and whispered, “Darling, is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, Mother. I’ve got a lot to tell you, but not here.”
Henri felt her nod. “Of course, dear. Well…I’m so proud of you!”
Henri had been wheeled down the gangway in the wheelchair they had purchased before departing Malaya. His face was powdered white in order to mask the pale green tinge of his skin. He wore a turban on his head to hide his antennae, and gloves covered his claw-like hands. Henri’s body was shrouded in blankets in order to conceal his diminished form. It was all part of his disguise as an invalid. Henri had no doubt that he looked ghastly. All in all, he thought his mother was handling things quite well.
Hundreds of people had gathered to greet the ship. Among the crowd, they saw waving banners, some of which read: “Welcome home, heroes!” “Congratulations to the Bell expedition!” and “Greetings, Goliathus hercules, king of the jungle!”
Nearly everyone held a little paper flag with a picture of a specimen of Goliathus hercules printed upon it. The image was one that Maestro Antonio had drawn and sent to the British Entomological Society chairman with the news of their successful mission. An announcement of their discovery had been published in the newspapers, and readers had been encouraged to cut out the flag and come greet the explorers.
A large and high podium had been erected. The chairmen of both the British Entomological and the Geographical Societies stood near it waiting to greet the expedition party. A dozen very serious-looking dignitaries were seated to the right of a lectern from which speeches would be made. Unable to sit still in his reserved chair, a beaming Professor Young hopped from foot to foot and waved wildly to Henri.
The chairman of the British Entomological Society stepped behind the lectern. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are delighted to welcome back our returning heroes all the way from the distant colony of British Malaya. Let me introduce to you Mr. Henri Bell, Mr. Antonio Ghirardelli, Mr. William Fleming, and Miss Robin Sayers.”
As each of their names was called, they waved to the adoring crowd.
“They bring with them a creature of legend. Yes, a creature so very rare, so mysterious, that many a learned scientist did not even believe it existed. Their journey took them into uncharted jungle where deadly creatures awaited! Ferocious tigers stalked them, stealthy crocodiles lurked in the swamps, and snakes able to swallow a man whole dangled from the trees!”
The crowd oohed and aahed at the mention of each animal. “Persistence against all odds, including grueling weather conditions, tropical disease,” the chairman made a nod in Henri’s direction, “and hostile natives could not defeat the intrepid party!”
“What hostile natives?” whispered Robin to Billy.
He shrugged. “Makes a better story, I suppose.”
“After many months of tracking the elusive Goliathus hercules, they at last confronted their quarry in a dense and lonely area of the jungle. In the dead of night, the expedition party was surrounded by a swarming horde of beetles driven mad by the scent of blood. The savage insects came to attack, kill, and feed. With spiked horns raised and razor-sharp pinchers at the ready, they struck! Suffice to say that while our champions prevailed, they have some battle scars as a result of the encounter.”
Much to Billy’s embarrassment, the chairman pointed to the scar on his cheek. Then the chairman signaled to Maestro Antonio to bring the cage to the lectern.
“Ladies and gentlemen, on this historic day, which you will recall to your children and grandchildren, we formally announce that the expedition party led by Mr. Henri Bell, sponsored by Her Majesty Queen Victoria and the British Entomological and Geographical societies, has discovered and captured Goliathus hercules! I present him to you!”
With that announcement, the chairman raised the cage above his head as if he were holding a championship trophy and said, “Three cheers for Henri Bell!”
“Hip, hip, hooray!”
“Hip, hip, hooray!”
“Hip, hip, hooray!”
People cheered, applauded, and threw their hats and flags into the air.
Across the podium Henri looked at his mother, tears of joy streaming down her face. Professor Young now held the beetle in his cage. From time to time, he lifted it to the crowd for another cheer. When he wasn’t doing that, he put his face near the bars of the cage and spoke to Prince in his very poor insect language.
“Are you hungry? You. Me. We talk much!” And, “Thank you, thank you! Me happy. You happy.”
Henri doubted that Prince was very happy, but at least he didn’t snip off the professor’s nose.
Henri gazed absentmindedly across at the dignitaries who had risen to their feet for a standing ovation. Suddenly he realized that one of them was a woman—a woman wearing a large black hat. Jolted into alertness, Henri was about to leap up from his wheelchair when Billy stopped him.
“Henri!” whispered Billy. “You’re not supposed to get out the wheelchair.”
“But Mrs. Black—she’s here!”
“What? Where?”
“Over there, where the dignitaries are standing.”
Robin and Billy stood up, scanned the group, and then quickly sat down, realizing that they had drawn attention to themselves.
“It’s her!” said Robin.
“It’s not her! Just a woman in a black hat, and quite an ugly hat too. It’s definitely Mrs. Black’s style, but it’s not her,” said Billy. “Come on, Henr
i. Agatha Black probably didn’t get out of the jungle alive. We’ve been over this a hundred times. Now relax and enjoy the moment!”
But Henri couldn’t relax. The speeches and applause went on and on. The chairman of the Geographical Society was now at the lectern and invited the crowd to attend the opening of the British Empire Exhibition in the Queen’s building of Earl’s Court the following evening. Goliathus hercules would be on display for all to see.
At last the welcoming ceremony concluded, and the explorers, along with Henri’s mother and Professor Young, were ushered to a very fine carriage that was to take them to their hotel. Henri looked out the window, searching the crowd for a tall woman in black. He felt that sick feeling—the boiling in his stomach that he had felt in the jungle—kindle inside of him. That was not good. He didn’t want to cause a scene on the very day of their arrival in the middle of London. He turned from the carriage window and tried to look interested in the conversation of his companions.
“Everything all right, dear?” asked Henri’s mother. They were taking tea in their hotel room. Prince was out of his cage, much to the consternation of his mother.
“Oh. Yes, yes. Just a little tired, I suppose,” responded Henri.
“Of course. It’s understandable. Such a long and exciting day,” she said agreeably, but she cast a wary glance at Prince, who appeared to be lapping up tea from Henri’s saucer.
Henri took a sip of his tea and began what he knew would be the most difficult conversation of his life.
“Mother, I have news of Father.” His mother looked surprised and put down her teacup. “I didn’t write to you because I thought it would be better to tell you in person.”
From his coat, Henri pulled out the envelope that contained the two pictures his father had left in the village before he had entered the jungle. He passed it to his mother. She pulled out the photographs and looked at each carefully. Tears began to roll down her face.
In Search of Goliathus Hercules Page 22