by Satyajit Ray
It was as if the entire forest was waiting with bated breath. I could hear my own heartbeat.
After staying in this position for about a whole minute, the cannibal group walked past us and, in their own slow, rhythmic motion, vanished into the forest.
David Munroe was the first one to open his mouth. ‘But they didn’t eat us!’
Mahoney laughed. ‘Why must they eat you? If your stomach is full and someone offers you a plate of meat would you eat it?’
‘Did they come here after eating?’
‘That’s what I think.’
‘Human flesh?’
‘This can be validated only when we proceed further.’
We resumed our journey once more. After passing through some more bushes and trees we once again came across an open space. On our left was a thatched hut. Mahoney said this was a farmer’s hut. We had noticed some cornfields while coming here. But it was obvious that this hut was now devoid of any human presence.
‘Look at this.’ Mahoney pointed to the ground with his finger.
Next to an extinguished fire lay a few bones; needless to add, these were human bones.
‘We have left behind the habitat of Kiganis,’ Mahoney said. ‘They had come out to gather food.’
‘Such uncivilized culture still exists in Africa?’ queried Saunders.
Mahoney replied, ‘The government did try to reform them but it wasn’t totally successful. But I’m not ready to call them uncivilized. Perhaps I can reword it by saying that their eating habits are somewhat different from normal people. Cannibalism is present amongst many animals. And I’ve heard that human meat is very tasty and nutritious. It’s just that they mark themselves by painting their faces. The notion of nefariousness associated with them is completely wrong. They know how to laugh, how to enjoy, and they help each other.’
In the evening we located a suitable spot to camp. After this nothing worth recording happened. Tomorrow we will walk by the foothill of the Mukenku volcano and then enter the deep forest.
9 May, 9 p.m.
Due to incessant rain we spent the whole day inside the camp. In the evening when the rain had stopped for a moment, a group of Bantus appeared near our camp. This particular tribe is scattered all over the forests of the Congo. A witch doctor also accompanied this group. With the help of Mahoney, Crole exchanged a few words with them. African witch doctors often take on the role of fortune tellers. Dr Witch has warned us that we will soon confront acute danger. We should never trust a red person. We will come out of this danger through a ball resembling the colour of a new moon. For our good luck, Dr Witch has left strands of elephant hair for us, which we had to twirl these round our wrists.
Crole has spent the entire evening trying to decode the words imparted by the witch doctor.
10 May, 10 p.m.
Today I’m in a state of deep misery.
We have found proof to show that Chris McPherson is no more in this world. Today was an eventful as well as a fearful day. I’ll try to put everything down cogently. I still can’t fathom the strange terrain we have landed in. I can see signs of restiveness among our Kikuyu porters. What if they abandon us? Kahindi has tried hard to pacify them. Hope this works.
Today was a clear day. So we set off early in the morning and reached the foothills of Mount Mukenko. The presence of volcanic ash in the soil marks the history of past volcanic eruptions. It’s apparent that these volcanoes have erupted several times.
After climbing six-and-a-half thousand feet up all along the mountain, we lunched on tinned meat, cheese, bread and coffee around 3 p.m.
The ancient forest of Congo was spread out right below us. I’d never seen such an array of greenery. It was not hot at these altitudes but one knew that once we descended the slopes the temperature would increase and so would the humidity. It was quite cloudy and we did face sporadic rain on our way.
After climbing down a few thousand feet, we finally noticed a gorilla group. About twenty yards away on the right side of our pathway we saw around ten young and old gorillas huddled among the branches of trees. I’ve had the fortune to see gorillas in their natural surroundings earlier too yet I could not help but stop with the others to look at them.
The revolver held in Crole’s hand was rising but when Mahoney noticed this, he rebuked him in whispered tones.
‘Have you lost your senses? Are you planning to kill all of them with that one gun? Please put it down.’
Crole’s hand came down.
The gorillas were watching us intently. One of them—perhaps their leader—left the group and came towards us, stood erect and began to beat his chest intensely with both hands, creating sound similar to drumbeats. This could be easily decoded—this is our territory, do not come in this direction. We all know that gorillas apropos of nothing will never attack a human.
But so what if we knew this, the dog didn’t! Rocket was hell-bent on charging at the gorillas. Letting out a loud bark, he leaped. His chain was in David’s hands but due to the dog’s sudden dive, the young man almost lost his balance and fell on the ground. A dreadful incident followed. The gorilla ground his teeth, let out a sharp cry and came charging at us.
In moments of crisis my nerves and the reflex of my body work automatically. Before any of the three guns carried by the members of our group could be raised, at lightning speed I took out the Annihilin gun from my pocket and, aiming at the gorilla, I pressed the trigger. In an instant the animal disappeared.
Mahoney or Kahindi did not know about my unique invention. Therefore it was no surprise to see them standing there, mouths wide open in shock.
‘Whoa—what did you do?’ Mahoney asked, stupefied.
The reply came from Crole.
‘This is one of Professor Shonku’s many amazing inventions. A machine for mere self-defence.’
With a glazed look still on his face, Mahoney nodded in my direction. I said, ‘I don’t think the other gorillas will trouble us any more. Let’s proceed.’
Without saying a word Mahoney took my hand in both of his and shook it with great respect. We continued our journey.
Needless to add, the act of climbing down was much faster than going up. After reaching the valley, we entered the dense forest at around 4.30 p.m.
This primeval forest was a completely different world to us. You’re taken in by surprise the moment you step in. You can never ever forget its ambience. The girth of each tree is well beyond 50–60 feet and they tower majestically at 100–150 feet. When you look up you cannot see the sky. When you see these surroundings you experience a feeling of great reverence, just the way you react when you enter a medieval cathedral. The most interesting thing, however, is that despite the wide variety of creepers you can hardly see any weeds. The ground was clear, so we faced no difficulty in walking.
Mahoney said, ‘As we don’t have any specified destination to follow let’s move in any one direction. At the same time we need to be alert about watching any signs about the missing group.’
The ground was not even, and there was a slope at one angle. We were still walking along the edges of the volcano. It was a riot of colour despite the darkness: a wide range of butterflies were flying around, flowers too grew in profusion and at regular intervals strange birds of the parakeet family could be spotted flying from tree to tree, calling to each other.
Meanwhile, Rocket began to bark once more. He was pulling at his chain, which was in David’s hands. The dog seemed very keen to go in one particular direction.
We came to a halt. David’s ‘Stop it Rocket’ produced no result. The dog dragged David behind a huge trunk surrounded by liana creepers.
On following the dog, we realized the reason for his agitation.
A dead body was lying on the roots spread around the tree. A substantial portion of his flesh had been eaten by some animal but it couldn’t be ascertained whether the death took place due to the animal attack. It was not difficult to see that the body didn’t belong to any tri
bal, judging by the shoes worn and the wristwatch strapped on his hand.
‘This is the deed of an elephant,’ Mahoney said. Possibly because the bones of the ribcage had been smashed to pieces.
I saw Kahindi shaking his head.
‘No, tembu, Bwana. No tembu, no kiboko.’
That is, neither an elephant nor a hippo.
‘Then what do you have to say to this?’ asked Mahoney with annoyance.
‘Mokèlé-mbèmbé, Bwana! Baya asana, baya sana!’
Baya sana–very bad.
Mahoney looked furious. ‘I’ll kick you out if you speak such rubbish.’
‘But I know! I’ve heard it roar.’
‘What nonsense are you uttering, Kahindi? Please speak up! What have you heard?’
‘I once headed the porter’s group of the Bwana Santini community.’
Till now, Kahindi had concealed this fact. He was also part of Italian group which had gone missing.
Kahindi finally spoke up. The Santini group had set up their camp at night around the foothills of Mukenku. It’s more towards the north from the area we are at present. At midnight Kahindi woke to the sound of a growl. When he left the tent and came out he saw a pair of eyes glowing in the darkness about five or six feet above the ground. Kahindi fled. After running for about a few miles he then walked on to return to the civilized word. He had recounted this experience to many but the sahibs did not believe him. Kahindi’s own view is that everyone present in that group had lost their lives after being captured by that demon.
‘Then why did you come with us?’ questioned Mahoney. ‘Or were you planning to escape from our group, too?’
Looking sheepish, Kahindi said, ‘I’m here to earn my bread, Bwana. I would have run away again if I’d encountered the demon once more—but now having seen Bwana Shonku’s weapon I feel safe. I promise I’ll not run away this time.’
‘Then you must share this assurance with your porters too. Once they have joined us there’s no way they can leave us. I’m telling you this once and for all.’
There were more disturbances in store for the day. After discovering the white man’s body and listening to Kahindi’s confession we proceeded onwards and within ten minutes came face to face with a group of pygmies.
I’d no idea that pygmies, who are only about four feet to four-and-a-half feet in height, wander around so silently. We had no indication of their presence before we faced them. And the moment we ran into them they surrounded us. Mahoney raised his voice and said, ‘Do not fear; they are harmless. But their curiosity is limitless.’
Each pygmy carried a bow and an arrow with a leather bag for quivers. The brown spot on the edge of the arrow was a sign of poison. I was aware of this fact. I’ve read in books that they hunt only to satisfy their hunger; they are not at all violent in nature. Mahoney went ahead and started speaking with them in Bantu. A few of them came close to Rocket. Several hunter dogs or wild dogs roam Africa but clearly no one had seen a Great Dane before.
While Mahoney was engaged in conversation I suddenly noticed that the pygmies had started taking out various stuff from their bags. How strange! All these items belonged to the civilized world! Binoculars, compass, camera, clock, fountain pen, shoes, flask—how did the tribals acquire these articles?
After finishing his talk, Mahoney turned towards me and said, ‘They have discovered quite a few dead bodies of white men in this region in the last few months. I’m sure you can guess where they got these objects from.’
Now there’s no doubt left that all three groups are no more.
Meanwhile, I froze in fear when I saw a pygmy take something out of his bag.
It was a book—and it was very familiar to me.
When I went forward and extended my hand in his direction, the pygmy silently placed the book in my hands.
I told Mahoney, ‘Will you please ask them if I can take this book?’
The pygmy readily agreed. I put it inside my pocket. It was a first-edition copy of Geetanjali. I was numb. What more clinching proof that McPherson is no more?
‘Can they give us some information regarding this giant animal?’ I asked.
Mahoney said, ‘No. I’ve asked them about it. But they said they’ve only seen something strange flying in the sky.’
‘A bird?’ asked Saunders.
‘No, it was not a bird. Neither was it a mechanical vehicle, as it didn’t produce any sound.’
The pygmies left. Worried, we continued our journey.
We camped at seven in the evening. We could hear the sound of a river with strong currents. We have to cross that tomorrow.
The mystery thickens. God knows what our future holds.
There’s lightning and a thunderstorm outside, in addition to strong winds. Perhaps it is about to rain.
10 May, 11.45 p.m.
What a terrifying experience! Even now, I can barely hold my pen steady in my shaking hands.
Last night, after writing my diary, when I was about to lie down I heard a scream.
David and Rocket immediately sprang up. The three of us instantly rushed out of our tents. Crole, Saunders and Mahoney were all already outside. The scream had come from the porters’ tents. It was pitch dark outside. The campfire had gone out in the rain.
The scream had now turned into a groan and along with it one could also hear the sound of drumbeats—as if someone was beating a huge hammer on the ground.
Saunders and I had both come out with torches in our hands; when we focused our light through the curtain of rain a terrifying scene appeared before our eyes.
The porters’ tents were smashed and flattened—as if a steamroller had come and destroyed them.
The third tent was about to receive the same treatment—a gigantic animal was approaching it, eyes glowing in the darkness.
It was the most ferocious carnivorous animal of the prehistoric dinosaur era—the Tyrannosaurus Rex.
‘Your gun, Shonku, your gun!’ Saunders and Crole both screamed together. Mahoney had meanwhile shot twice at the animal, with no effect.
I had to go into my tent to get my Annihilin and it was a matter of a few seconds yet within that span of time I saw David’s powerful Great Dane return to the tent trembling, his tail between his legs.
As I stepped out a dazzling blue light followed by lightning and an ear-splitting sound momentarily blinded and deafened me. I could not press the trigger of my Annihilin.
In the next flash of lightning I saw that the Tyrannosaurus had changed his route and was receding away from us.
‘It’s been struck by lightning!’—shouted Mahoney.
‘But still it could not subdue him,’ I said. ‘What an extraordinarily powerful animal!’
Three of our porters have been crushed to death by the dinosaur. Kahindi along with other three porters were spared as they had come out after they heard the screams.
We returned to our respective tents. But thank goodness the rainfall was not as intense as the sound and fury of the storm outside. We couldn’t possibly have withstood nature’s vagaries after this horrifying incident.
I’ve distributed my Somnolin pill to everyone. If we do not sleep well we won’t possibly be able to cope with the demands of tomorrow.
Mokèlé-mbèmbé, after all, is not a myth!
13 May, Nairobi
There’s no doubt left that this expedition to the Congo is perhaps one of the most dreadful in my entire oeuvre of adventures.
Such an assortment of unexpected, breathtaking events take place only in stories—that too not in many stories. I never imagined that one day we could actually return to the civilized world. That is my great fortune and nothing else. Of course, along with it I must give full credit to the amazing courage and presence of mind that my teammates showed.
On May 10, the first thing we saw in the morning were the footprints of the Tyrannosaurus Rex.
The footprints had travelled northwards. Now the point was: which way should we head?
After hearing this, David Munroe said with great gusto, ‘We will follow his footsteps. In the twentieth century, if we get to see the Tyrannosaurus in the light of day, we need not try to accomplish anything else for the rest of our lives.’
We set off at 7 a.m. I had a feeling that loads of mysteries were yet to be solved. As we were short of three coolies, we distributed some of the stuff amongst us. Kahindi is still with us as a result of Mahoney’s warnings. But I seriously wonder how long he will stay.
Though it was a clear day, the forest still remained shrouded in dense darkness. Our path presumably followed the beast’s footsteps, which kept appearing at irregular distances. It looked as though he was limping.
After walking for ten minutes, we heard the sound of water rushing and soon reached a river. It wasn’t wider than fifteen yards. The water too was only knee deep. Hence, it wasn’t difficult to cross it on foot. That the animal too had crossed the river was evident as we located its footprints on the opposite side.
After another quarter of a mile, the surface of the earth changed. Once more it was back to volcanic ash and pieces of rock. Again we had come closer to a volcanic region. The forest was no longer so dense. The opaque covering of leaves above us had thinned, allowing light to peep in.
Now the footprints faded and eventually vanished. There was no way we could find out where the animal had gone.
‘Let’s go straight on,’ Mahoney said.
But we couldn’t go further.
Like magic, from behind shrubs and bushes, appeared a group of khaki-clad locals who immediately surrounded us. Each of them held a bow and arrow. And they were all aiming at us.