Team of Seven Heroes Shorts Tales 2; Chapter 3 & 4

 3.

The gazelle ears peaked on instinct; its survival for their breed was speed. At recorded over ninety miles an hour, it was good for a short burst of run and that was what it needed most times. Or if that failed then death was imminent. It then heard the voice. It was not the sound another of it breed will utter.

“Stay, swift one.” The gazelle tensed its muscles. It neck tensed and the limbs limbered before it tensed up. It moved its head to the source of the scent. It was not a predator. It was different.

The gazelle took a whiff of the scent that was approaching it. The scent was on the hand that held close to its nose. The hand reached to touch the nose and then it patted the side of the head. The touch of the skin on the furs uncovered its concern. It felt safe.

“I am not going to hurt you.” The voice was reassuring. The gazelle turned its head towards the hand. It held no food but it was comforting, In the jungle, the creatures are always tensed for the predators for it meant living on being dead.

“Gazelle, you are ailing. You can’t run for long.” The voice spoke to the gazelle. “I know it’s a hard decision but you need to decide.”

The gazelle looked away and saw the pack of lions nearby. They are always seen but never approached. The gazelle pack was also nearby. The older and younger ones took their feedings there. It was a good place; the nearby stream provided the water and the grass there fresh. The sun was almost at noon, and the gazelles knew the hunt will be on soon. Who will it be. Yesterday was a young gazelle which took the wrong turn. It was a quick one the kill and the others were safe till now.

“You won’t be missed.” The gazelle knew it. The rule of the jungle was to survive. An ailing one was not able to survive. It lowered its head and took a huge bite. It was refreshing to gnaw at the fresh blades and then it ran. It was heading for the lioness’. It was a quick turn with the lioness’ charging. It felt the claws dug into its rear. It was pulled down by the sheer strength of the predator. It felt the fangs that tore into its midriff, and then another on its back. It fell to the ground and without a scream, the next set of fangs was on its belly. It was painful but it was bliss from the constant pain on the left front limb.

It was the final pain before death overcome life.

The lady clothed in the tight fitted leopard animal skin was sleeveless and cut off at the upper thigh, with the rest best left to the imagination. With the tight clothing and the body dimension made to curve at the correct areas with the full head of hair blonde by the shadem she was categorized as beautiful. If only her beauty extended to the blade she had in the sheath there. It was a bayonet knife from the Empire.

The lady stood up and turned from the lions’ feeding then. She was barefooted but her feet were used to the round terrain. She had lived there for over thirty years, having followed her father to the continent at the tender age of five and then orphaned at six before she was taken under the care of a witch doctor. Her only link to her father was the amulet on her. She had kept it with her. The lady had no name but her father used to call her Sheena; it was a short nickname for the way he described her behaviour; shenanigans. It was a difficult word for her to utter and they made it short to Sheena. So, she was named by her caretaker.

Like her name, Sheena was a high-spirited lady with the word ‘no’ and ‘stop’ removed from her mind. She was not to back down, and even fought a mamba at nine with the long stick who had slithered into the hut she occupied with her caretaker. She fought her first predator; a leopard at fifteen and barely survived the battle. The leopard did not survive the battle but the leopard skin was her to wear as the badge of honour. It was a loose wrapped then to become the tight fit.

Sheena lived and learned from the jungle before she was seen as its Queen. Or bitch to some who detest her presence there. Sheena could communicate with the animals with her soothing voice or her touch and they have somehow grown accustomed to her. She could be seen running with the gazelle or defend a yearling from the predators. Her caretaker, the witch attributed her communication as a gift from the Gods. She was then named the Queen of the Jungle. She moved in the jungle that was her’ and intruders were dealt with by her justice. Death was the only punishment she knew. She had fought the White intruders with different vocal sounds; some named them English, some were German and there were the Arabs. All the same they are Man, and with Man, she had detested them most. Her own lover was once a local warrior named Kunte of Maasai. He was killed by a German officer with the bayonet on her waist. She killed the other warrior and fed his body to the crocodiles. It was told to her by her caretaker, the ones that are fed to the predator of the river shall remain as one. She had then killed a crocodile every full moon in her memory of her lover.

“Chim, what ails?” The chimpanzee was her friend for over some years ever since she rescued the other at the early age from the Numa or the Lion to the Whites. She speaks to the chimpanzee in her local tongue; the Nilotic language.

The chimpanzee rushed over on its four limbs before it stood up on the two legged bowed in the formation. It pointed to the rear and there was the sign of smokes. Smokes in the jungle could only mean a jungle fire which may razed a huge tract of land of its vegetation. Sheena tasted the air with her tongue and was relieved. It was not a huge fire as fear but possibility of a camp fire. She gauged the distance where the fire could have stood on the be placed and guessed it was by the river. That was an indication of the Whites have intruded there. They are unlike the local warriors who knew the best places to rest and the river was not one for it was inviting trouble by the river creatures.

“It’s far and late. We will track them at daylight.” Sheena then took off to her next stop; the tall juniper tree to rest the day.

4.

Tarzan had followed the lady into the jungle, but Jane had learned a lot more from him on the scents. She has covered her two-wheeler with the scent of the other creatures, and with greater speed had outdistanced him form hearing the noisy exhaust. She was out there from what he managed to pick up on, and the trail ended at the rail station. He had arrived late but he saw the train that had departed ahead. He questioned the staff there and took off on the wild chase for the train with the horse loaned from the station. He was incensed by her sudden departure, and when he did catch up with the train, he realised that he was fooled when he saw the two-wheeler.

“Jane Clayton, I will find you.” Tarzan called out in frustration. He then rode back to the station to resume his search. He was met there by the rancher from the States. His name was John Buchanan or JB for short; tall and huge dressed in the dark shirt and pants with the cowboy boots. He even had on a rancher hat, slung low over his forehead. John was previously an archaeologist, before he retired there at the jungle. For his safety, he had on the double Colt Peacemaker revolver with the notches of bullets on the waist belt.

“Hello, Tarzan.” They met when JB was once cornered by the locals over some incident. Tarzan arrived in time to save the rancher from being lynched.

“JB of the States.” Tarzan replied. “I am busy.”

“I will be quick. I heard the Germans have organized an expedition into the jungle at the east of us. They are many and armed.” JB told the other but Tarzan ignored the other. He dismounted and then walked past the rancher and then approached the Station Master.

“Mumbe, where did Mamie go?”

“I have no idea. She came and took the horse like you. She rode east and soon after you came.”

Tarzan turned to look at JB. He had heard the other spoke of the German’ expedition to the East. If they are headed there, then Jane may be in trouble or seeking one. He was unsure why she left without telling him. He had no recollection of them arguing except that she was silent for a few days after receiving the message from the station.

“Mumbe, tell me of the message given to Mamie.”

“I know not what but it came from the train. I had it send over to the house.” Mumbe knew little of the written words if he ever read the letter. Tarzan rushed back to his home and searched the desk where Jane worked on. He found the letter and it read; “Dad found. Killed by savage named Sheena. Sis.”

Jane have a sister in Nairobi, Kenya who was taking care of the father there. He may had come to the continent for he was an explorer and the jungle was a mystery to him. Professor Archimedes Q Porter was always fascinated by it, and more so when he later found the man who was to be known as Tarzan. Ever since then, he had wanted to explore the jungle into its depth. He was last heard of travelling to the jungle again and then he disappeared. They been looking for him for weeks, and the message concluded it for them.

“Professor dead? It can’t be.” Tarzan rushed out of the house. He stood there on the veranda and then raised his hands to his mouth. He then gave out the call that magically his and it resonated into the jungle. The staff all came running then to see their own master standing at the veranda. Balando approached the Lord and then asked.

“What ails you, my Lord?”

“A grief I was to share but she kept from me.” Tarzan replied. “I was a fool.”

“Most are fools, my Lord. I have been around to seen many of them in brothels. Or keeled over after many drinks.” Balando replied. “The others are family men. They hold their wives and kids.”

“Mine died, Balando. Now her father dies.” Tarzan replied. “They won’t be any to hold on.”

“You are wrong, my Lord. She has you to hold onto.” Balando looked at Tarzan. “Have you spoken to her on the dead one. Not the old man but the one that was in her womb. She ails for that and you did not see, or do not want to see.”

“The child dies. It was taken. She could not understand.” No human will able to do so, for in the wild, the apes will attack and violate the dead troop. Tarzan had escaped that when his adopted mother fought for him and saved him from being trampled. He never knew why but in his growing years, he saw the other troops young and old were trampled on after death. He had himself done it watched by his own adopted mother. It was the way of the jungle; the fittest survived.

“No, you do not. You are …Lord of the Apes. You have not learned all of Man. You are ….” Balando bit his tongue on the word. Savagery hinged on his mind but his tongue was not to utter.

“Tell me, Balando the Wise. How am I to appease my lover?”

“Find her and bring her back safe. She is unsafe out there alone.” Balando replied. “Even the Numa’ travelled in pack.”

Tarzan looked into the jungle and pondered. He was to track her but he knew where she may be. She sought the one that killed her father, and it will be Sheena that he will seek.

Sheena will lead him to his love.