| Author |
 Topic  |
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
 Posted - July 16 2009 : 03:19:05 AM
|
But that number certainly included Africans, and the followers of Karanja gathered before him now as the sun cast its final rays of the day.
Fires were lit and a mat of Americani cloth laid before the witch doctor. He laid out the skulls of various animals, and arranged them in some order known only to himself. As he worked, he mumbled and chanted. He shook and rolled the bones, claiming that they told the future.
Finally, he gave a signal, and four drummers, one at each corner from him, began to beat their council drums. The Drummer of the East began, followed by the Drummer of the West, then those representing North and South, until the thumping of the drums was heard over the savannah for a mile or more.
He made magic smoke from a clay pot, releasing it in clouds in a sequence that heightened the bizarre and incredible function over which he presided.
He stood and offered the smoking pot to the four directions represented by the drummers, symbolizing his coming rule over all the land. He had said in many villages that if the people would rise up and join him, they could cast out the British and rule again. He carefully omitted that most of the tribes of Kenya quaked before the Masai, the Lumbwa, and the Nandi. Not until the King's African Rifles and the British-led police had come had most natives been able to sleep with little fear that their shambas would no longer be raided for women and cattle. And so that enemy warriors might wash their spears in the blood of other men, thus affirming their own manhood and their supremacy.
He spoke in a voice filled with flourishes, promising that if those assembled would take his oath of loyalty and drink the blood of the sacrificial victims who quivered before him, the bullets of the white men could do them no harm. And if he ruled, they would have the fattest and the most fertile cattle of any group in the nation.
Each man there would have many maidens in his huts to hoe his crops and to please his lusts. And they would no longer have to pay taxes to the hated King-Emperor across the Big Water that they had never even beheld. These words were greeted with a rumble of satisfaction from the crowd.
A chief who knew the truth about men like Karanja tried to protest and struggled to break his bonds. But a thick stick had been tied between his jaws, that his words not be heard by a fickle people.
After some more mumbo-jumbo and chanting, Karanja had this chief brought before him, with his three favorite wives, the youngest and prettiest.
He had the chief bound upright to a post in the ground, where he was forced to watch what was next. "If you close your eyes, I will have your eyelids sliced off," warned Karanja.
The three stripped wives were led forward, hands tied behind them and elbows bound to their sides. They stood shaking as Karanja and two of his henchmen circled them, tossing spices and bones on the ground, the drums keeping up a low, constant rumble.
Nine chosen men, Karanja's favorite warriors, ritual symbols tied in their hair, bone anklets and necklaces adorning their nude bodies, now danced forth. They shook and jerked and leaped in a wild prance and shuffle that sent terror through the captive women and brought cheers and murmurings from the crowd.
The young women were untied, then bound on the ground beside each other, their wrists and ankles widespread. They moaned and wailed and looked helplessly at their husband, formerly one of the more powerful chiefs in the region.
A cow had been brought forward and ritually slaughtered hours earlier. It was cooking in the background. Grease from this cooking animal was collected and smeared over the three spreadeagled girls and over the nine male dancers as they jerked and cavorted.
Karanja joined the macabre dance, and clacked a pair of human thigh bones as he led the men in the finish of the event. Then, he designated the first three men to use the chief's women as the crowd watched. Ululations rose as the warriors drove into the helpless women, as their man saw, and cried and tried to roar out his rage.
Other things happened in that place that night, some quite like what Mau-Mau terrorist oathings would repeat in the 1950's. But that was yet to come, and Karanja's oathgiving was for his own benefit, not for that of certain politicians with similar ambitions.
What was done there is too vile to repeat here, but had enormous symbolism and power to bond Karanja's followers to him and his cause.
Blood flowed, and his pet hyenas, kept in a nearby pit, fed well.
And then the cow was done, and his followers ate from it. As each received his meat on broad leaves, his brow was dipped in first human blood, then in grease from the sacrificial cow. An additional oath was sworn, and Karanja swelled with pride as he relished what he had managed to get others to do, hoping that they might share power when he came to it. He looked to the morrow, when he would begin his revolt by marching on the District Commissioner's home and the nearby police post. And he would also deal with this safari whose women- women!- had slain his pet lions.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
 |
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 16 2009 : 04:30:48 AM
|
In the safari camp,the tables had been cleared after dinner, and drinks served to those who wanted them. Roxton, Blacklaws, Holly, and Alexander Davenport settled for tea.
Davenport looked at Lord Roxton and asked, "Are we supposed to believe this event hosted by your lady, or is this mainly entertainment? Wives gone wild, eh?" He chuckled. "I know that women like to have a bit of fun, but with the wogs here, is this really wise?"
"Now, see here, Alex," interjected Lord Lindemere, who was, after all, Davenport's client, "that's my sister you're talking about. If she says that this will be a good show, and may do some good, I say let her try."
"Marguerite generally knows what she's about, I've found," replied Roxton, a little cooly.
"But, really, your lordship," persisted Davenport, "Witchcraft? In this age, involving a noble lady of the Realm?"
"Do sit and watch, Alex," said Holly Blacklaws. "I rather fancy that this floor show will be worth a look. I'm skeptical, myself, but it should be amusing, if nothing else." She took her husband's arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. Geoff smiled into her eyes, kissed her, and took her hand.
"May I have everyone's attention, please?" asked Susan Wilson. "The ceremony is about to begin. The Countess of Avebury has asked me to tell you to regard her tonight not as herself, but as her ancestor, Morrighan, High Priestess of Avebury in a more ancient time. She believes that her ancestor was reborn in her and that she has the gift to speak and to conduct ceremonies as Morrighan."
"Please withhold your reaction until you see her as Morrighan. With her will appear her dearest friends and assistants, Veronica Malone and Nicole Challenger. Some of you know Nicole better by her nickname, Finn. Our very own Mem'Sahib Bunduki. Along with her, they have studied the primitive rites of the Zanga Indian tribe in remote Brazil. Veronica grew up among them, and tells me that their Paramount Shaman, Xma'Klee, is a friend and confidant of Marguerite. She has learned some of his secret rites as well as those she knows from her days as a Druid priestess, so many centuries ago. Now, without further ado, I present Morrighan, High Priestess of Avalon and of Avebury."
She stepped aside and opened the flap of Marguerite's tent. To her side, Lady Lindemere and Marguerite emerged.
Marguerite was draped in black satin, as if she had wrapped a robe around herself. Her boots were gone, replaced with dancing sandals of Arabic origin, the sort of thing that might be worn by a favored girl in a harem. On her forehead dangled a slim gold chain, from which hung an emerald that glittered in the firelight. Following her at a stately pace, bearing burning candles in silver sticks, came Finn on one side, Veronica on the other. They were also not dressed as usual, and the sight of them and Marguerite, their measured pace, and solemn expressions silenced the remark that Davenport had been about to make. Something was not right here. If he was any judge of things, this was not a ladies' lark, but something quite real and chilling. He felt a drop of ice water trickle down his spine.
Everyone leaned forward, compelled to look. There was a certain magnetism here, and it pulled at the glands, tensing the senses. Roxton had been planning to look smug, but even he was impressed and sat upright and forgot his tea.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 19 2009 : 3:22:07 PM
|
Morrighan led her procession around the table, then twice around the campfire, once in each direction. She was singing, an eerie chant that all knew was from an earlier time. The other girls kept pace with a chorus of "om's". After four of the Om sounds, they trilled a keening call that sounded like Arab women saluting a chief in a canyon that reflected the sound and made it a mighty effect. Roxton hadn't known that his friends could do this, or that his wife knew this ancient melody that sang to the inner core of those who heard it. Whenever he decided that he knew Marguerite, she produced a surprise.
The women formed a diamond shape as the four of them surrounded the fire. They set down the candles, and Susan walked among them, taking the black cape from each. She returned to the table, stacking the capes in her own chair. The women were now almost nude by the standards of their day. Black loincloths, brief halter tops, and rings of bells on their right ankles. Gold loop earrings. Necklaces, shining in the firelight. The fire also glinted on the belts of gold coins that supported their loincloths.They held castenettes in their hands, and began clacking them as they each circled the candles that they had set on the ground. Drums began to beat, in series of four notes. Morrighan had selected African drummers that afternoon and showed them what to do. They were a little afraid and a little contemptuous of this rite, but now were affected by their own music and the overall scene.
The girls circled each candle four times in each direction, then began to sway in a sensuous dance, accompanied by music from a Victrola phonograph. The sound was not Arabic, really, but was distinctly exotic,and a bit erotic, thought Stuart Hamilton as he observed. Diana took his hand, watching him carefully as they studied the dancers. Even the cynical Alexander Davenport sat forward, clearly intrigued.
Morrighan spun near the fire, and threw a fine powder on the flames as she pirouetted close to the heat. A cloud of smoke rose, sending sparks into the crowd. A mild bang accompanied the flash,and the Africans flinched. But they continued to drum, four beats in succession, the drums in synch. The bells on the girls' ankles tinkled, adding flavor to the sight.
Finn now took her candle and set it on the table to the right of where Morrighan would sit. She pranced back into place, twirling in her dance, arousing the men, making the women jealous, wondering if they could do this, or would have the audacity to try. But they marvelled at the performance. They had had no idea that their friends could perform this way. Holly knew that later in the safari, the women were planning to learn Middle Eastern dance from Lady Roxton and her friends. They had discussed this in letters before the safari arrived. This was presumably why they had had the costumes available.
But she was surprised to find the outfits to be so brief. They were much what she had been afraid that she would have had to wear in Amarrah, had the attempt to enslave her the year before been successful. She felt herself moving slightly to the enchanting music, her loins trying to sway as she sat in her chair. Her husband sensed her involvement, and carressed her hair and arm. The Blacklaws couple looked at one another, and Geoff took Holly's hand.
Something passed between them, and Holly felt her breathing quicken. She blushed, feeling her heart race. Geoff took her arm and pulled her to him, and he played with her hair as she laid he head on his shoulder. Something about the scene and the way the music affected the senses aroused her, and Holly Blacklaws knew that when she made love later that night, she would be especially passionate. Her lips parted and she felt her cheeks flush, even before Geoff turned her face and kissed her. She clamped her thighs together, hoping that her arousal wasn't as obvious as she feared. Something in the dance was raw and earthy, but it was also surreal in another way. She sensed that arousal wasn't the primary purpose of the ceremony, although it inflamed her lust.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 19 2009 : 5:07:08 PM
|
The women again circled the fire four times, then Veronica spun off, placing her silver candlestick on the table to the left of Morrighan's chair. And so it went for Felicity, also. Only Morrighan's chair lacked a burning candle in front.
Morrihghan faced the fire, and the others faced outward, their lovely backs to the flames. Finn and Veronica each had a brunette between them, the hair colors alternating. Then, they switched,so that the two blondes were next to each other, arms waving gracefully, heads turned up, as if expecting to see something in the black sky. They trilled again, their tongues fluttering against the roofs of their mouths in a way that few Western women can manage. The sound sent ripples of fear and anticipation down the observers' spines. A lion roared in the near distance,and Hamilton checked that his rifle was at hand.
Morrighan began a new chant as Felicity, Veronica, and Finn circled the fire and her. She waved a hand over the fire, and again, there was a puff of smoke and a strange scent pervaded the air. It was foreign to their nostrils, but pleasant, rather like some flower that they had never sniffed. Then, the smell turned to a musk, heady, erotic...
Now, the other women pranced wildly for a moment, then spun off, each walking slowly and sensuously to her place at the table. Susan Wilson walked to each and towelled them dry, one by one. The girls seemed obvlious to this, sitting erect, mouths open a little, breathing hard as Morrighan completed two more turns around the fire. Then she too, came to the table and was towelled.
Susan's brief clothing was white, in stark contrast to the black worn by the others. Holly saw that the loincloth and bra were stitched in a thicker edging, with a lace rose overlay in the center of the loincloth, back and front. There was also a rose overlay stitched on each bra cup. But Susan's belt was not of the small gold coins like the others. It was dark green leather, set with small silver conchos shaped like starbursts.
The other women were chanting "Morrighan, Morrighan, du suchep, alnorog, ibhalim." They did this four times, Morrighan joining them the fourth time. Her voice was louder and firmer. It was as if she was confirming a request that they had made.
Felicity reached to her husband for a satin-wrapped object that she had handed him just before going to Marguerite's tent to strip and dress for the performance. It was tied shut with a silver ribbon in a bow, the ends long.
Roxton noticed that the candles now formed a triangle on the table, with Morrighan's candle framed in the center. He saw Felicity rise and circle the fire four times. Then, she danced to Morrighan's side, and laid the wrapped item on the table before her.
As Felicity returned to her seat, Morrighan unwrapped the object, which turned out to be a dagger with an ivory hilt, the guard and pommel of fine silver. The sheath was also silver, carved and inlaid with weird motifs and strange figures. It looked old, although the blade was bright, perhaps freshly polished. It looked sharp and lethal, very well designed for killing as well as for symbolism.
Morrighan stood, the dagger held high above her. She faced North, then East, and the other directions. As she made each facing, she spoke loudl and clearly, "Alnarak. Minhotep, Ragshala." In each case she lowered the dagger before turning and raising it anew with each facing.
She walked now to stand before the fire, the dagger aloft in her right hand, the sheath in her left, wrists crossed. She stood at the south end of the modest campfire, the dagger and sheath above her, and each of her assistants came to kneel before her.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 19 2009 : 5:52:07 PM
|
One by one, they knelt before her and kissed the blade and the sheath as Morrighan lowered them to the level of their lips Then, the three women stood and walked gracefully back to the table. Each went to stand before her husband and declared, "I am your woman. I bring you the blessing of Morrighan, who is High Priestess of Avalon and of Avebury."
Finn first, then Felicity, finally Veronica, each knelt before her man, thighs wide, her head bowed. She reached for her husband's hands and placed them possessively on her head. And said, "I ask that you keep me, that the blessing of Morrighan protect us well in all manner of things which may befall us. Of all women, I am yours. Cherish me, for I cherish you. I will serve you well and my heart and my loins are yours. May our love never tarnish, and be always as bright as the blade of Morrighan is tonight. May your children from me carry your name forward into centuries yet to come."
Then, each girl knelt at the right side of her surprised and somewhat embarrassed (if very proud) man, on a towel provided by Susan, who had no man of her own.
Susan now came to the table with a clear human skull that looked to be transparent quartz crystal. It reflected and refracted all manner of light. She handed this object, which seemed heavy for its size, to Morrighan, who had resumed her seat at the table, the dagger and sheath crossed in front of her, candles before her.
Challenger started, and began to rise. But his wife gently tugged him down, kissed his hand and whispered, "It'll be all right, Genius. Watch."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 19 2009 : 6:58:12 PM
|
Morrighan gestured to the African drummers, who had been repeating their four-beat all this time, but quietly enough that voices could easily be heard over the drums. They increased the sound of the drums, four beats each, four times.
Then she gestured again. "Let the drums be silent."
The candles were arranged so that one of the four was in each open space around the crossed dagger and sheath. As Susan passed the crystal skull to her, Morrighan rose and passed the base of the skull over each candle. She turned the skull, that it face each of the four main directions. Everyone noticed the way that the light from the candles shone into the skull, illuminating it, brilliant light seeming to be magnified, glancing off the internal prisms which no modern man could fashion, with the latest and best machinery and labaratory tools. Morrighan made sure that the drummers could see this light show. "Come forward, each of you and behold what few have seen. This is a skull more ancient than even your ancestors, as far back as you can trace the history of your tribe. It is believed to have come to Earth from another race, who once visited here from the stars, and who left this remnant of their technology with an ancient people in the Americas, in a land now known as Mexico. This skull has great powers, and can sometimes tell one such as me what may lie ahead. I shall now consult this oracle. Return to your seats, everyone, and behold what shall pass."
She turned to Susan. "You know well who gave this skull into the keeping of your mistress and her man, who are my close companions. Who gave this skull?"
"Priestess, it was the gift of Xma'Klee, Great Shaman of All the Zanga, his people in a far-off jungle land. It was given that Prof. Challenger might learn its secrets and that it might be used for good."
"Veronica, rise," said Morrighan, looking at Mrs. Malone.
Veronica stood gracefully and confirmed that the story of the skull was as told. She resumed her place beside Ned, and Finn rose and confirmed that she and her husband were the Keepers of the Skull, taken by their group of companions on a remote Plateau, where strange things often occurred. "We wrested it from an evil people called the Tecamaya," she confirmed, "and Great Xma'Klee trusted us to be its keepers, for most are afraid to have it nearby." She knelt again by her husband, giving him an apologetic, yearning look.
(See, "The Crystal Skull", on the OLD David Orth board for the story of this strange, powerful object, and how the explorers came by it, at great peril.)
"Susan, kneel to the other side of Prof. Challenger," said Morrighan.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 19 2009 : 7:54:58 PM
|
Susan obeyed, blushing furiously as she looked at the Challengers. She hoped that Marguerite/Morrighan wasn't setting her up to look like George Challenger's second woman. Marguerite had in fact, once teased her about that, for her devotion to Finn. And Susan had sometimes wondered if she would agree if Finn asked her to join her with her man. She was repulsed, but also intrigued, and occasionally debated with herself what she would do if the Challengers ever asked for her in their bed. She had gotten quite excited about it a few times, and both hoped and hoped not that the situation would occur.
But surely, this was not the time or the place for another of Marguerite's sarcastic jokes about that...
She realized that Finn was smiling at her, a wicked look in her eye. She winked. Oh, no! Mrs. Challenger KNEW what she was thinking. I am SO ashamed, Susan thought.
Morrighan spoke. "George, please take Finn by your right hand and Susan with your left. Go on, Susan. Stop blushing. You are very dear to the Challengers, and you will need a man's love and blessing for what is to come. His and Finn's love energy needs to surround you. Everyone else, will each couple please also join hands?"
She continued, "When all have joined hands, you will be united in a powerful bond, male to female, yin to yang, that will seal you within my influence, and protect you from any evil spirits that may visit us during this ceremony. John, you are my lord protector, and I will need you to stand behind me and hold my shoulders. Don't let go, whatever happens. We two are one another's shields. If I start shaking too much, hold onto my hair, but do not release me until I say that it is safe." Her voice quivered, and Roxton started. This was unlike his wife, to show fear this way. She had been more brash, if terrified, in other, seemingly more desperate situations.
"Here, Your Ladyship, what about me?" queried Alex.
"Good point, Mr. Davenport," said Marguerite. "Have you a picture of your wife in your wallet, by chance?"
"Yes, but she died of blackwater fever two years ago."
"Take her photo and hold it in one hand," instructed Morrighan. "Then sit by Susan, and hold her other hand. She in turn, is connected to both of the Challengers. This may create suffucient positive energy to protect you. I believe it will. And I sense that you are a good man. Demons may shy from you somewhat."
Susan was apprehensive. "Ma'am? What if my holding the professor then detracts from their energy, or mine? Can that do any harm?"
Morrighan smiled and aimed a candle at Susan. "The love energy between the Challengers is exceptionally powerful, and they care deeply for you, Susan. I now cast you and Alex a portion of my strength. As the descendant of a goddess, and a high priestess, I have stronger powers than most. With Lord Roxton holding me, and my spirit joined with his, we have a formidable combination."
She rose, and asked John Roxton to occupy her chair for a moment. Puzzled, he sat. Morrighan removed the slim gold chain with the emerald from her head, laying it on the table. Blushing furiously, aware of how desirable and vulnerable this made her appear, she said, "I am now Morrighan, but I am also Marguerite. And I may not be able to protect Marguerite if I am only Morrighan. So, as Marguerite, I kneel to my husband and my champion, and the love of my life. I present myself to you as the mortal, modern Marguerite Roxton." She spread her knees provocatively, looking up at John with amusement mixed with embarrassment. Then, she sobered, lowering her eyes. She inclined her head deeply and guided John's hands onto her hair. Holding them firmly there, she repeated the same words as the other wives had. Still on her knees, she arched her back erotically and said, "As Marguerite, I'm no better than the other women here. I'm a Countess, but for this aspect of the ceremony, I am only a woman proclaiming herself to proudly belong to her man, and begging his continued love. Not only does this keep the other girls from resenting me, it leaves me on par with them in the protection that my union with you provides to both of us. You'd better fasten my emerald on my head again, now, John, and help me to rise. And I need my chair again."
In the chair, she passed a hand over one candle, and it flared brightly, showering sparks. Everyone flinched and shied back. The Africans showed the whites of their eyes.
"On you, my drummers, and upon you, Joseph, be my blessing. Your wives are not here, but imagine them as you will, or the maidens whom you wish to buy when you can. Think strongly of that union. Under my blessing, you should be safe, but stand well away from me and from the fire."
She looked up at her husband. "John, on reflection, I think you'd better hold my hands instead of my shoulders." She crossed her arms over her breasts, letting him take one in each of his own strong hands. He bent to kiss her neck and said, "Ready."
"Right, then," she replied. "I will now consult the oracle."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 22 2009 : 09:03:52 AM
|
She stared into the crystal skull, trying to devine any message that it might provide. She had begun to despair when she saw a clear image deep within the skull. It showed a native man with leopardskin clothing and skulls and other bones on and near him. And she saw him with lions and hyenas. Suddenly, he looked at her with an awful expression. She gasped as she realized that this mundumugu meant to begin a rebellion that might claim many lives.
She described the image to the others, and said what she believed his intentions were. Then the glance of the skull's invisible eyes shifted to one of the drummers. Marguerite didn't know how the eyes seemed to shift that way, but she had the impression that the skull watched this African. She turned to look at him, feeling a current of electricity charging the atmosphere.
The man, called Nakulu, paled, turned in a flash, and ran from the camp. Lord Lindemere grabbed his rifle and stood, as if to shoot.
"Hold your fire!" ordered Hamilton. "If you shoot, it may be murder! We don't know why he's running. He may just be frightened of the ceremony or of Morrighan's being a juju woman."
But suspicions mounted as the fleeing Nakulu shouted back, "He will slay you! The mundumugu will eat your flesh and drink your blood!" Then, he was gone in the darkness.
"Well, that was special," commented Diana, holstering her revolver. "I'd say that chap is one of this rascal's followers. What else do you see, Marguerite? I mean, Morrighan?"
Morrighan trembled. Roxton felt this and held tightly to her hands.
"I see blood, much of it. And I see this witch doctor cut in half, without a head. I think this will happen, but only after many innocent people have suffered because of him. I see no more. The images have gone. But what I sensed, I sensed strongly. I think we had better pack up and leave tomorrow, and go to the District Commisioner's post. We'd better let him get to the heart of this mess."
Felicity rose from beside her husband, looking shyly at him as she moved a chair over and sat across from the seer. "Marguerite", she asked. "You were going to contact my aunt..."
"Yes, Wait," spoke Morrighan. She gazed again into the skull. Nothing. Then, she closed her eyes and felt images and words come to her.
"Your aunt was named Helen, and she died when a large chunk of masonry fell off of a building under construction. Another passerby was also killed, and one man lost a leg. This was in York, four years ago. Helen is well and sends you greetings. She says that she feels no pain, and that she will await you when your time comes, that your entry to the spirit world may go smoothly. She wishes that she could see your children, and she misses you. That is all I can sense."
Morrighan shuddered violently, then opened her eyes and said. "That's all, Felicity. I had trouble getting a signal, but what I sensed was definite. Did it help?"
Cynical faces, some smirking, turned to Lady Lindemere. That lady had blanched, and her expression was baffled. "Has Charles told you this? We never discussed my aunt, Marguerite! But that's how she died, and when, and where."
Charles looked confused. "No, Darling, I've never said anything to Marguerite about your Aunt Helen. Marguerite, how did you do that?"
Morrighan shivered. "I truly have no idea. But I sometimes sense things. I wish I knew why. I half believe this bit about me being the reincarnation of a Druidic priestess. Everyone, the ceremony is over. I feel unsettled. John, please take me to our tent."
A scream pierced the night, followed by the growl of a lion. The noises originated about 600 yards from camp.
"That was Nakulu," said Joseph. "A lion has taken him, perhaps one of the mundumugu's animals. Tonight, we must make the fires brighter and post more guards. I will talk to the boys, Bwana Blacklaws. I will try to make them stay. But this is very bad business."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 22 2009 : 8:06:48 PM
|
The whites drifted off to their tents, the hunters first assigning men to watch throughout the night. Several new fires were started as well. And they felt better for this, for lions continued to roar occasionally.
The Lindemeres discussed what had happened, and were troubled. "Charles, this woman is your sister. How can she do these things? Is there ANY way in which she could know about Aunt Helen?" Felicity was worried, and showed it.
Charles shrugged. "I have no answer, nor has poor Marguerite. I think she regards this gift as being almost a curse. The good news is that if what she says is so, at least she is on our side. I say, Darling, where did you get that rather scrumptuous outfit? I can't say that I'm happy to have had my wife showing so much skin in public, but it is pretty erotic. And that little ceremony where you knelt and asked for my love has stirred my lust more than I want to admit. You're already a very desirable woman, but after that...I hope you aren't tired. If you're going to rev my engine that way, I need to take you for a drive. So to speak...It isn't fair to tease the animals, you know." He smiled at her the way that he did when she walked nude or nearly so past him at home. Felicity Tremayne, Lady Lindemere, had one of the best female bodies in all Britain, and she delighted in the effect that it had on men, especially her husband. Felicity wasn't arrogant about it, but she was vain, and was deeply satisfied with her looks and how they were received.
She sauntered over to him. "Why, Charles! Do we dare dally that way, with all that Marguerite has prophesied? Will I be able to maintain your interest with those lions out there?" She slipped off the black bra, tossing it onto a camp trunk. And moved in a subtle dance that made the most of her considerable assets. Her sister-in-law had trained her well. Felicity could move so as to endanger a man with a heart condition. She knew it, and took considerable pride in it. She and her close friend Finn Challenger sometimes laughed about their skills, practicing moves that each assured the other would get their mens' interest, no matter what George Challenger might have going on in his lab. Charles had once missed an important session of Parliament when Felicity had proved that she could be more interesting. She had done it on a dare from Marguerite, and the ladies had laughed about her success. (Lord Roxton had also missed that session.)
Charles reached over and stripped his wife, examining the brief loincloth. "You could have at least made this thing a couple of inches wider and that much longer. I swear, this is as minimal as what some native women wear. And where did you girls get all of these gold coins sewn to the little belt?"
"We went by the bank several months ago, while we planned this safari," she responded. "We designed these outfits and practiced whenever we were together, while you lads went out shooting or riding. We plan to teach Holly, Diana, and Amanda how to dance. Amanda wrote that she thinks that John will love it. He's become less stuffy since we were here last year, and admits that he quite likes those little knickers that we gave her. I've sent her several shipments of them since. Do you like my slutty dance, Darling?" And she moved her legs and loins subtly in a way that had him breathing heavily.
"Put out the light. It's silhouetting you. Then, come to bed, and I'll show you how much I like your slutty little dance. Is this the way that Marguerite had to dance for that awful sultan who used to own her? No wonder his son was so eager to get her back last year!"
Felicity turned out the lantern and slipped into bed beside her husband. "Marguerite showed me all manner of things that she had to do, and Finny has, too. She seems a very accomplished lover. I've been planning to demonstrate these things on our anniversary next week, but would you like a sample tonight?"
He certainly would, and the Lindemeres were soon involved in activities more like a chapter from the Kama Sutra than something that an English lord and his lady were thought likely to embrace.
At one point, Charles commented on how wanton and wonderful Felicity was, and she reminded him that even the very conservative Queen Victoria had said that a woman should be a lady in other ways, but a whore in the bedroom.
Charles chuckled. "Good advice, Felicity. But I think you've surpassed even the skills of most professional ladies. I hasten to add that I'm guessing. With you at home, I have never been even tempted to patronize them. Darling, you must surely be the most desirable woman of all time. If I was a Turkish potentate, with a thousand women, the only one for whom I'd send would be you."
"Liar," she laughed. "But I'd strive to be your favorite. Oh, Charles, I love you so much! When I knelt before you tonight, I was thrilled to my core. That was so sensually charging! You have been my champion and my object of male adoration since we were teens. Now, show me what you'd do to those thousand women to keep each of them clamoring to be the one for whom you'd send that night!"
And thus, the Lindemeres were quite tired before they slept. And it was well that they had eased their tension, for trying times lay ahead...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 23 2009 : 12:27:49 PM
|
Similar scenes occurred in the Malone and the Challenger tents. The usually more conservative Veronica admitted that kneeling before Ned and asking him to acknowledge his love for her and his wish to possess her, had excited her far more than she'd expected it to.
"I thought this was silly when Marguerite told us to do that," she admitted. "In rehersal, she told us that she was following a real ancient rite designed to arouse men and make them want to claim their women. Being erotically charged like that kept bad spirits at bay, because of that male-female element that she mentioned. I scoffed a little, but Neddy, I have to say, being down there and holding your hands on me to prove that I wanted you as my man, got to me. Do you feel like working off some of that energy? It's not really late yet, and who knows what chance we'll have to make love for the next few days? This witch doctor man gives me the creeps, as Finny says." She stood pressed against him, moving his hands onto her bottom. That was one of her especially erogenous zones, and Ned's hands knew just what to do there. Already, she felt rising passion, and knew that she must look flushed.
"If I understand you, honey, you want to fool around. Is that pretty much what you said?" He trailed fingers down her back, and she broke out in goose pimples.
"Um, hmmm," she confirmed, rubbing noses before she kissed him like Ahphrodite might. Veronica had become a skilled goddess of love, herself.
"Gee," teased Ned. "I'm tired and I have a headache. But for you..." and he kissed her back with even more zeal than she had expected.
Soon, they were in bed, telling one another with their lips, their eyes and their bodies just how much they wanted one another.
Before they slept, Ned cuddled with Veronica and whispered into the ear that he was nibbling, "We need to do this witchcraft ceremony thing more often, if it works this well."
The Challengers paused to discuss the likely outcome of what Marguerite had seen, and how dangerous the mundumugu's followers might be, and how many they were. But even as they spoke, they carressed one another, and neither had any doubt that they were about to prove once again that theirs was the love of the centuries, the affair for all time. Finn was fond of saying so, to the amusement and occasional irritation of her friends. But she basically really believed it, and wasn't surprised that she had felt a charge like electricity when she had lowered herself before her man and later knelt by his side, holding his hand. She wondered whether Susan had felt much as she took George's other hand. If so, Finn would forgive her, given the circumstances. And the Genius had such a strong male aura that he could provide safety for both women.
Still, she reflected, we need to do this Druid ceremony stuff more often. I got such a CHARGE out of it!
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 23 2009 : 7:53:02 PM
|
Marguerite was less thrilled by the event. She lay with John, holding one another tenderly. But what she felt was more love and concern than lust.
"Oh, John, I love you so very much. I feel so foolish for having waited as long as I did to accept your love, even when I sensed that it was sincere. I was just so unable to trust, you or anyone else. There are still almost no people whom I trust much, and most of them are in this safari camp tonight. The dearest, of course, is in this very bed."
Roxton feigned surpise, looking around. "Where? I thought we were alone!"
Marguerite chuckled, kissing him, looking into his wonderful eyes that so captivated her. They were the first thing she looked for when they woke each day, and the last that she looked into before she slept. Even when she knelt before him to give oral pleasure, she sought approval and validation of her technique by looking up into those eyes as she performed this particularly intimate sexual service.
What she always saw there gave her purpose and stability. Even her children drew no more affectionate looks from her than did John, and those eyes were the window to his soul. It was a rather good soul, she had come to realize. And her own clung to it, desperate to have found someone to whom she wished so much to belong. She had felt enormously self concious when she had behaved as she had instructed the other wives to do, but it had also been enormously liberating and fulfilling to place his hands on her head and ask to be seen as his.
The Sultan of Amarrah had owned her body, and from it compelled many delightful services, but only John Roxton had made her heart sing, and caused her to want to be known as his woman! Finny was more blatant about admitting that she was totally George Challenger's wench, but Marguerute was certain that that no other woman really was more in love with her husband than she herself was.
And she was especially reassured that this was so now, for she was strained after being the voice and persona of Morrighan on this dark night. She sensed that the witch doctor was a truly evil force, and that his aspirations would menace her and hers.
"Can you believe that this Karanja chap is actually telling his followers that white mens' bullets will bounce off of them? If that happens, I intend to have a cross word with Mssrs. Holland & Holland and John Rigby." He smiled, trying to ease the concern that he saw on Marguerite's face.
She decided to play along. "Shouldn't you have that cross word with Eley? They make the ammunition, not the gun makers. But Eley will claim that it wasn't their fault, especially if the Malones and Finnykins have the same problem with their American and German cartridges. Do you like this?" Her right hand played with him where she knew that he would approve in an obvious manner.
"Seems to work," he conceded. "My interest appears to be rising."
"John, stop!," she cried in mock terror. "Don't go through the tent roof with that!"
He laughed and pulled her under him. "I'll quit growing when I'm sure that it'll fill you completely and make you moan and beg me never to finish. How's that?"
"Wonderful. Do me thoroughly, at length. But I want to just do it missionary style, if that's all right, then sleep. That ceremony and what I saw have drained me. I need you to refill my sensual resovoir, then let me rest. That bloody boy with the tea will be here in a few hours."
"After what I'm about to do to you, I'll need tea by then," he countered. "Open those incredible legs, Marguerite, and let me show you a terrific way to pass a chilly African evening."
"Probably the same way that you pass evenings wherever else we are," she jibed. "Men are so predictable."
But he evidently managed to please her, however likely his choice of entertainment, for she sighed with relief and great pleasure by the time that she cast a final gaze into his eyes, and bade him to sleep well. She certainly slept better for his attentions, and even better because she could curl up next to him, knowing that he was there for her, emotionally and physically. He had become her lord protector in all ways, and she whispered this to him as she drifted off to slumber land.
"See that you remember that, Countess," he replied sleepily. "I love you, and I mean to be the one whom you trust most. Now and for all time."
He kissed her and she pulled his arm over her, his hand on her right breast as she drifted off. A final shift of her shapely buttocks to bring them into tight contact with his loins and legs, and she was off, to dream only somewhat fitfully. And when she woke, troubled, she held that arm until she was again at peace.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 23 2009 : 9:18:26 PM
|
Holly and Geoff were discussing the Morrighan issue. "Bloody silly, if you ask me," he declared. "European women stripping off like kaffirs, right in front of some of the blacks, at that! No shame at all, or damned little. If we didn't need the money from the clients and they weren't also our friends, I'd have been tempted to say something. Look here, Darling, would you have done that, if Marguerite or Morrighan or whoever she was tonight had asked you to join them in that little adventure?"
Holly stood before him, one leg bent a little as she reached with both hands for her bra clasp. "Honestly, I'd probably have explained in advance what we were going to do, and asked your permission. You're my husband, and what I do reflects on you. I crave your approval. But I thought about this, a lot. Marguerite and Felicity approached Diana amd me with the idea of joining them, but explained that they hadn't enough outfits for us. They wanted us to know that we weren't being slighted by not being asked to participate. Ideally, all of the females present should have been involved, for the full effect. But we don't dance that way, although they plan to teach us on this trip. I quite look forward to it. I want to show you that I can be as erotic and desirable as they are. I saw you watching; don't pretend that you weren't. All of you blokes were pretty intent on those girls! " Her lips compressed in a prim expression.
"As for kneeling and putting your hands on my head in that possesive way, I'm still excited about it. Geoff, you have always been larger than life to to me. When I was a schoolgirl and saw you return from safari with the trophies and saw you in the papers, and realized what gaamorous and famous people your clients are, I was pretty smitten. And when you rescued me last year from the slavers, and I saw how you looked at me, I thought that maybe if I threw myself at you, I might catch you before you moved on to some other woman. And I know that there have been quite a few. You have certainly lived up to a white hunter's reputation for appealing to the ladies!"
"I'm awfully glad to have appealed to YOU," he admitted. "I was just surprised to find that I had a chance with you. You're the rich girl, the banker's daughter. And I was just sure that you were going to marry that auto dealer's son. Society wedding and all that." He flushed a little, remembering his feelings at the time.
She colored. "That bloody auto dealer's son told me that I was unworthy of him after I had spent some time in chains in the slavers' custody. I know that he was far from the only man who wouldn't want to be seen romantically with a girl who was presumed to have submitted to Arabs and wogs. My reputation was deeply sullied as soon as the papers and the radio announced my captivity. People assumed the worst. And appearances did bear out their presumptions."
"But you looked on me like a goddess instead of as a slave when you saw me naked, chained in that damned store. And you came respectfully to me, asking my hand in marriage when other men only wanted to know the sordid details of what I was forced to do. I might never have been able to date a man who wasn't mainly after me with the expectation that I was all but a whore. You gave me back my self respect, Geoff, and you have made me a happy woman. I see how you pull me to you or take my hand when I get glances that imply that I'm soiled goods, as many from women as from men. Maybe more from women..."
He looked thoughtfully at her. "Holly, I am beginning to think that I must make you a pedestal like that which old Challenger made for Finn. I hear he puts her on it to show how proud he is of her. The women were talking about it last week. She gets teased for it, but I think she loves it. You deserve no less."
She blushed all over. "Oh, Geoff, you are too good to me. I know that I'm vain, and a little spoiled. Daddy raised me that way, bless his heart. But I am so glad to have found another man who indulges me. Speaking of men, you are a MAN, in every sense of the word. The car dealer's heir was a pampered boy. I sometimes wonder what I saw in him, other than that he came from a wealthy family and I knew that I could have him. But until I met you, I didn't know what it was to truly want a man, with my whole being. It scares me sometimes, how much I'm thrilled to be yours. Look, take my knickers off. I want you to do that tonight."
He complied, looking appreciatively at the rose pink bikini panties, a gift from Finn and Marguerite. He noted the delicate lace trim at the leg openings and the floral applique. And wished that items like this were more easily obtainable. He knew that the ladies had them made to their own designs, and was glad that Holly had been favored with their concern and their gifts, especially ones like these.
"So, you don't mind too much that I'm not rich ?", he asked. "I do pretty well, but I can't spoil you like you deserve, not to the full extent."
"Geoff, you spoil me every time you look at me and I see the love in your eyes," she gushed. "And you are such a daring, dashing man! I'm thrilled to meet your clients and to sometimes go on safari with you. We have more than enough. It's best that I'm not too spoiled, anymore. Marguerite and the others send me too many fine things, as it is. Not that I'm not delighted to get them. And to wear some of them for you. The look on your face makes it all very worthwhile. When you like something, I can tell!" She blushed crimson.
"I am rather fond of you," he smiled, toying with her bottom after tossing the panties on a bedside table, next to his revolver.
She ran her hands through his hair and around his shouders. His shirt was off, and she loved to see and feel this man of hers.
"Do you really want to know how I feel about what we did at that little pagan fest tonight,?" she asked. "What I feel after behaving the way that we wives did?"
"Yes, actually, I've wondered," he admitted. "As much as I felt it was foolishness, it was rather nice when you girls did that, putting my hands on you, I mean. I felt ten feet tall."
Holly blushed, tossed her brown hair, and looked at the tent top. "Ten feet might be a little much for this place that we share tonight. But that music, the dancers, and what I did before you in public...I feel so aroused, Geoff. And so very yours. Let me show you again how I feel about you, Darling Geoff."
She knelt before him, legs wide, back arched to present her breasts to full advantage. She looked shyly down, thinking how she must look to him. She tossed her hair again, and put her hands on her thighs.
"My word, he muttered, "I was right: you ARE a goddess!"
"Not a goddess, Geoff. A slave girl. I could be nothing else in your arms. No woman could be more. You have that effect on women, especially on me, since I was 15, and saw you pass, or in the bank. What the Sultan of Amarrah failed to achieve fom me, you have commanded by chaining my heart. I want to be locked up in your arms forever. And a day!" She lowered her head. "Put your hands on me again, Darling. Tell me that I belong to you, and that you want me. Then, pull me into bed with you and make me do whatever you want. I'll feel the luckiest woman in the world for it. And in the morning, I am going to butter your toast like Finn does for George, and I want everyone to see it. If you're thinking of putting me on a pedestal and telling me how much you care for me, I intend to earn it!"
He held her head, telling her that he did care, and that the pedestal wasn't far off, once they got home. "And now that we've said all of this, and you're down there, anyway..."
She looked timidly but lustfully into his eyes. "I think I follow your naughty mind. Get those trousers off, and I'll show you just how much yours I am. That ceremony made me wet for you, and we shouldn't waste that."
Blacklaws tossed his trousers and underwear on the table. "Who said anything about wasting your situation? I intend to exploit it fully."
He turned off the lamp, and pulled her head toward him.
Later, they lay in one another's arms discussing the witch doctor. "Do you think that Marguerite made that up abut seeing the villain in two pieces ?" she wondered. "She seemed very real in her actions and expressions."
"Yes," he agreed. "It bothered me. I half believe that she does have some odd powers. No worries, though, about seeing the varlet in two pieces. If he comes after us, I'll blow him in half with my .500 Express! It'll be using too much gun for the job, but if I blow him in two, it'll seem to have fulfilled her prophecy. Can't hurt to have the boys believe that we have a tame witch in our midst!" He laughed, joined by his wife.
They prepared to sleep, and he whispered to her that although she had all the talents of a loving slave girl, she remained a goddess.
"Your slave goddess, then," she replied, kissing him. "You so OWN me, Geoff. What you do to me leaves me breathless. I think you do it to leave me speechless, to get a woman who isn't running her mouth all the time."
"Like this?" he asked, and pulled her over and covered her mouth with his.
When they finally parted, she gasped, "Oh, yes, Geoff! JUST like that!"
In time they slept, and when he woke two hours later, he pulled the cover over her, where it had come off of her shoulder. He kissed her cheek, and murmured, "Good night, Goddess. I swear that I'm going to build you that pedestal." He was smiling when sleep claimed him, his arm around Holly, a hand draped on her elegant posterior.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 24 2009 : 01:15:28 AM
|
The Challengers parted, panting. "Oh, Genius! I was so hot! Marguerite's little affair really started my motor! How did it run for you? You drove me really well." She blushed, an ability that she had retained through seven years in his bed, several of them married to him.
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her, playing with her breasts with his other hand. The nipples still stood erect, and a flush suffused Finn as she panted, gazing lovingly into his eyes.
"If you insist on comparing yourself to an automobile, you ran like a Bugatti collecting first prize at the Grand Prix."
"If you don't want to think of me as a car, what should I be compared to?", she asked. They had left a lantern on, and the light reflected off her blue eyes in a way that made her seem to smolder, the pinkness of her cheeks enhancing the effect.
"No point in comparing you, Finn. Nothing else compares to you. Maybe Venus, if you believe in mythology. But I've never heard that she buttered her lovers' toast in the morning, however well she may have performed in bed. And she cannot possibly have surpassed you there, either. One day, I must analyze just how you wiggle your bottom while I'm plugged in for what you call, 'doggy style.' The way you rock back and forth must be a study in human muscle control that would merit a scientific paper." He leaned over and kissed her between the eyes.
"Figure out why that turns me on so much while you're at it," she answered. "Some scientist named Grafenburg said that there's a sensitive place on the front wall of the vagina that gets hit by you when you take me on my knees. I think he was right. It was called the G Spot. I heard this from some girls who used to read some magazine called, 'Cosmopolitan.' It had all sorts of hot articles in it, but we only found some that survived the world that Zoth left us.
Damn, I'm sorry, Genius. I didn't mean to think of him. Not now."
"Then, don't," said Challenger. "Just be glad that if you could be compared to a car, it's one that wins races, and mens' hearts, if I'm any example of your appeal."
Finn grinned, an impish look on her face. "Lots of cars win mens' hearts. I sometimes think guys had rather get off over getting a new car than over screwing their bitches. And the right car will get them chicks." She looked teasingly at her man, who laughed and pulled her hair.
"Go to sleep, Finn. We have much to do tomorrow. But thank you for giving this old man a fine time tonight. You have given me a new lease on life, my dear."
Finn looked thoughtful. "I don't think I gave you a new lease on life, George. I just helped you to enjoy it more, and to see outside the lab. And whatever I mean to you, you mean even more to me. Your whole life is a benefit to all mankind. All I do is fuck you, cut your hair, raise your kids, and tell you how grateful I am to be Mrs. You."
"And that means the world to me, Darling," he protested. "Knowing you has opened entire new vistas to me, and made me whole. You also inspire me when I feel discouraged over some failed experiment, and remind me that the next may bear fruit. You believe in me. And you made me a father, something that I never thought would mean so much to me as it has. Um, I say: did we put the skull away for the night? I don't want some wog breaking in here to steal it."
They sat up and looked for the crystal skull. It sat on a chest a few feet away, the colors and the lamplight coursing within it. As they looked, the eyes flickered and glowed.
Finn shivered. "I bet that thing was watching us. Well, it got a good show. You really had me going for awhile. I was totally Mrs. Slut. And proud of it! I'll get its box."
She slipped out of bed and brought the heavy plywood box and set the enchanted skull in it. It turned a rose pink as she lifted it, startling the Challengers. Finn set it behind a chest and so that the skull faced the back of their tent. Then she set several boxes of .450/.400 ammunition on the lid.
Challenger laughed. "Think it'll stay put?", he drawled.
Finn wasn't amused. "That thing scares me, Lover." She poured water from a canteen onto a handkershief, washing her hands.
Back in bed, she turned out the lantern and snuggled aganst her man.
"Hold me, George. I think we're about to get into some serious trouble tomorrow from that witch doctor creep. Promise me that you'll be careful."
"I will," he conceded, "but I want your promise not to go off shooting man-eaters without me. That scared me more than it did you, if possible. I was very frightened for you, young lady."
"Yes, sir, I promise," said Finn, only half sarcastic. Sometimes, she felt more like George's daughter than his wife. Either way, she knew that he cared for her, and would risk his very life for her.
Her heart beat faster, and she reached for him. "Lover, hold me until I sleep. Hey: do you know what'll set me off faster than you probing that G Spot; give me an even bigger orgasm?"
"What?" he asked, genuinely curious, for she did react with great enthusiasm to the mentioned stimulation. Only being tied up and "made" to submit to his desires when she asked for that seemed to excite her more.
"Being quiet just before I sleep and remembering that I'm Mrs. You. That's the quickest source of the Big O that I can imagine. And I'm the only girl on the planet who gets to relish that." She slid a leg under one of his and had him hug her to himself. Before they slept, she put his hand on her bottom, and told him to play with her there gently until she dreamed. "Until I was 22, I had almost nothing, George. Now, I have it all. Somewhere, whoever counts karma points, if you believe in that, is marking up a big score for you. You are going to get a really nice place in Heaven. Better than our home in Kent." She snickered and laid her head on his shoulder.
"I'm already in Heaven," he protested, "and I have been, since you told me that you were mine." And on that note, the Challengers slept.
In its sturdy box, the crystal skull pulsed. Its eye sockets glowed green, then purple Then, it, too, was quiet.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 25 2009 : 03:47:14 AM
|
Dawn seemed to come prematurely and with malice. Marguerite swore that her watch was fast. Then, she just swore. "Bloody hell! It can't already be six o'clock! Roxton, DO something!" And she refused tea, pulling a pillow over her head.
"Mem'Sahib Marguerite is not well?", asked the personal boy, whose name was Chege.
"Mem'ahib Marguerite is just tired. The tea, chai, that you brought will help her to be well in time for breakfast. Asante sana," replied Lord Roxton.
"Eeehh," said Chege, and withdrew.
"At least, that savage was solicitous of my health," mumbled the Countess. "Did he bring anything at all with that tea? I'm sleepy, but I'm famished. It's your fault, John. You had me up far too late. slaking your vile masculine lusts."
Roxton knew that she was joking. He pointed out that some female lusts had also been considerably slaked. And judging from her reactions at the time, they had been slaked very well, indeed. "And Chege brought some wondeful-smelling croissants and fresh butter. And jam, blackberry, I think."
"Dwelling on petty details again about the lust thing, I see," she complained. "Oh, well, if I must rise, at least pour my tea and butter me one of those rolls. That damned cook knows perfectly well that I can't smell those and sleep."
A laughing Roxton tousled her hair and poured their tea.
The Challengers got up, and George took in the daily tea tray. He had on his colorful robe that Finn had bought him just before the safari, and it was welcome in the cool freshness of a new day. He set about buttering croissants and pouring tea while his bride of some years shook her head and wrapped a blanket around herself as she sat up in bed.
They shared the morning repast, discussing their children, the evil mundumugu, how soon they would reach the DC's post and see Sir John and Lady Amanda Musgrave, and other details of their day.
"You can tell that Blacklaws runs a first class safari operation, " declared Challenger. "He serves blackberry jam." He was notoriously fond of blackberries: in jam, in pies, or on their own.
Finn agreed, rolling her eyes at her husband's standard of measuring the excellence of a hunting company on the basis of its condiments.
After they had finished, Challenger set the tea tray outside to be collected by their personal boy. He returned to the edge of the camp bed, pulling on shorts and socks. Finn opened a low chest and fumbled out clothes for the day, for each of them. Both would be in light blue shirts and khaki trousers.
"I want to wear shorts, but I don't know what we'll get into today, especially if that witch doctor's men attack. And the sun is pretty hot out here. Are we going to hunt any, or just run for Sir John's and Amanda's place like dogs with our tails tucked between our legs?"
She swivelled around, sitting between his legs, her arms across his thighs, her head in his lap. It was one of her favorite positions, and she often sat thus while he explained his experiments, their next shopping trip to London, or any number of things. It comforted her to do this now, when the day's business might be so serious.
Challenger played with her hair and her ears as she purred. "I daresay that we had better shag ourselves over to the DC's while Morrighan's little magic show of last night has the boys cowed. The longer the day wears on, the more likely it is that some of them will remember Karanja's threats and his own witchcraft. And the sooner we reach Sir John and he dispatches the KAR and the police, the sooner the remaining man-eaters can be shot and the loyal natives made at ease. You and the other ladies can chat with his wife about fashions, and you can teach her those erotic dance moves that you're so proud of. I rather suspect that Sir John will pretend to know nothing of that until we leave, then he will eagerly watch her show what she has learned. The poor man is concerned about their image, you see. Customs being what they are in this day, public officials can't be seen to endorse their wives dancing like harem girls! Doesn't mean that he won't like it, seen in private. If it has the same effect on him that your dancing does on me, I had better leave Amanda some of my birth control pills, or the Musgraves will likely have a child before long!" He chuckled.
"I wrote to her and she said that they're trying to have a kid," Finn pointed out. "They better not wait too long. She's already into her 30's. I'm glad that I had ours young. It also makes me feel so cool. So fulfilled. I never thought that I'd have kids, let alone those of a genius."
Someone rapped at the canvas door of the tent. "Are you guys about ready for breakfast?" Veronica's voice.
"Hell, no," answered Finn. "I'm sitting here buck naked, with my head in George's lap, talking. Give us a few minutes. What's up? Anything urgent?"
"Sort of," said her friend from the Plateau. "Geoff and Stuart want to hold a council of war during breakfast. There's a column of smoke in the distance, and Joseph thinks that someone has attacked a village that he says is over there. Probably the witch doctor's thugs. Put on some clothes and get out here. Even Marguerite will be there in a few minutes."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 25 2009 : 5:45:54 PM
|
Breakfast was as delightful a meal as ever: venison chops, scrambled eggs, toast, Challenger's revered blackberry jam. Coffee, tea for those who'd prefer it. But there was an air of urgency, and everyone knew that an emergency could occur at any time. Almost everyone wore their pistols.
Joseph approached Blacklaws. "Bwana, two more boys deserted during the night. One from our safari, one from Bwana Davenport's. But I think that all who remained are not among the wizard's followers. Still, they fear his magic. We must leave soon, be away from this place where his power is strong."
"Right, Joseph, get cracking. Have the safari made ready to leave soon after we finish breakfast. We'd best be off. And we'd better check out that smoke." Blacklaws glanced at the column that still rose, although it was now not so tall, as the fire burned itself out.
"Mightn't that be rather dangerous?", asked Marguerite Roxton. "I don't fancy that that's from an outdoor cookout. Geoff, what's that Afrikaans word for those where you come from?"
"Braaivleis," he respoded. "But English-speaking South Africans use the term, too, just as we adopted other Dutch words, like 'koppje' for a hill, 'krans' for a cliff, and so on. But you're right; that's not smoke from what Mr. Malone calls a barbecue."
"Do you know where the word 'barbecue' comes from?", Ned inquired.
Marguerite rolled her eyes. "No, but I have the strangest feeling that you're going to tell us."
Finn and Holly laughed. Even most of the others smiled. Marguerite's sarcasm had become routine to them, and most found her funny.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 26 2009 : 04:50:40 AM
|
"Well," said Ned, "I hate to prove Marguerite right about anything, but here's the story, in case anyone is interested. During the days when pirates were common along the Spanish Main, in the Caribbean Sea, they lived on islands there and cooked their meat on open wood fires. The Spaniards called the technique and the sauces used, 'barbacoa'. That got corrupted to 'barbecue' in English, and it's now a common means of backyard cooking in the States, especially in the South. We use metal grills and charcoal for fuel. Except that in Texas, they use mesquite wood a lot. And, yeah, it's about like that braaivleis in South Africa, from what I've read."
"Marvelous!", applauded Marguerite. "Your Mark Twain once said that a speech should be long enough to cover the subject and short enough to be interesting. I think your fascinating account of a boring issue just qualified."
"Sounds like a good design for a lady's dress," smirked Roxton. "'Long enough to cover the subject, but short enough to be interesting'."
Diana laughed. "Oh, Lord Roxton! How awfully funny!"
"Hey," said Finn, "I thought it was interesting. Thanks, Ned."
Hamilton cleared his throat. "Well, back to the subject: we had better investigate that burning village. We can pull up close enough to look it over in binoculars, and leave if we're attacked. We have motor transport; they don't. That gives us some leeway. And if they've left, someone may have survived and need help. May even have heard them say where they're headed next."
Everyone agreed, Blacklaws noting that if they got isolated and had to make a stand, they could put the vehicles in a circle. "Like the Boer trek wagons, when they were attacked by the Zulu. But our cars are much faster than their oxen. We can probably get away, unless we have to cross rough country, in which case, we may be for it, if they catch us."
They all knew how slowly the cars had to move at times, if they weren't to break an axle.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 26 2009 : 06:18:16 AM
|
As soon as breakfast was cleaned up after and they had hastily packed, they were off. Hamilton told everyone that the lighter hunting cars would take the lead and the tail of the column, with one guarding the flanks. That way, the heavier trucks would be better protected. But he also wanted the blacks on the trucks where they could be watched, in case any were on the mundumugu's side.
They drove some 12 miles over rolling country before they found the village. It was nestled in a valley, with land cleared for agricuture for some acres around. Still, it wasn't far from the village before the long grass approached, with the open bush of the savannah.
They pulled up on a rise overlooking the scene and Challenger got out his Zeiss 10X50 binocular and glassed the remains of what had once been a prosperous village, by native standards. Finn stood by him, their arms braced on tree limbs for steadiness, the white hunters doing the same on other trees.
"They were attacked, all right," observed Blacklaws, Holly trembling by his side. "Pretty much burned out. The kraals are open, the cattle and goats gone. Dead people and dogs everywhere. Even the children weren't spared. Bloody awful. As bad or worse than the Nandi rising in 1906, or the Matabele War in Rhodesia in 1896. Anyone see any sign of life?"
"I think I see something moving a little in that hollow under the big dead tree about four o'clock out from the fires, maybe 550 yards from the village." Finn strained to get a better look at the movement that had caught her keen eye.
Her husband's more powerful binocular found what she meant. "By Jove, I think that's a native woman and a toto, or whatever they call their children."
They sent out a scout car, which signalled back that they had found what they expected. They also signalled for the others to come on, that the attackers had left. Blacklaws operated a steel mirror heliograph, Roxton reading his signals.
Holly was in the lead car with her husband. Blacklaws had forbidden her coming, but she had firmly refused to let him go without her. Usually, she worshipped him and would seldom dare to defy him. But this was an occasion when he had to admire her pluck,...and her devotion. Actually, he was proud to have her along, although worried sick that something might happen to her.
She gathered up the young child, about three, and they gave water to it and to the girl, who was not the boy's mother. She told the Blacklaws couple that she had fled when the raiders struck, gathering up a neighbor's child as she fled. As far as she knew, no one else from the village was left alive. Some young women had been captured, with the livestock. Everyone else was dead, slain in a bloody rampage. She had cowered in a drainage ditch, playing dead, silencing the whimpering child. She had either been missed or assumed to be dead, for the warriors had bypassed her. She had later crept under some foliage, and listened. The raiders had spoken of the witch doctor as their ruler, bragging about how they would soon have many women, goats, and cattle, and kill all who opposed them.
They had mentioned driving the captives to a hiding place, where other women and livestock would be assembled from two other villages. They would be kept there in pens until after the warriors not left to guard them attacked the police post and DC's station that afternoon. She could not count as Western peoples did, but said that at least several hundred followers of Karanja must be in his force. About 100 had attacked this village, the largest of the three targeted for that morning. She shivered, crying. "My family is all gone," she wailed. "What shall I do? I do not want to go to Nairobi and sell myself to whichever men will buy my use. And what will become of little N'Jula here? He has also lost all of his family."
"We'll see about that," declared Marguerite. "We will arrange for a mission post to adopt you and the lad, or I'll have the Mem'Sahib DC arrange something suitable. She can probably hire you as a housemaid.
I'll give her money for that, if need be."
"Mem'Sahib," spoke Chege, "I have but one wife. I want another. I find this girl to be pretty, and she will come with no bride price. I have seen her in this village before, and we have talked. If she will go with me, I will also take the child, if the Bwana DC gives permission."
The girl looked at Chege. "I know Chege. If he will have me, I will follow him. Please speak to the Bwana DC for us, Mem'sahib. Are you the juju Mem'Sahib of whom we have heard, the lion killer?" She shook, and set the boy down. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
"I am the juju Mem'Sahib, the one who consorts with magic and kills lions that eat people. My husband is a great English lord. He has much influence with the governor, certainly with the DC. We will speak on your behalf, and Chege's. I am a friend of the DC's wife. I feel sure that we can arrange for you to belong to Chege. Are you sure that this is what you wish? We may be able to find other places for you to stay."
The girl looked long at Chege, who looked back. She cast her eyes down, smiling shyly. "Mem'Sahib, I wish to belong to this man, if he will take me."
"Very well," said Marguerite, "If she has relatives who have survived in another village and they claim her, I will pay her bride price. In money or in goats, whichever they prefer."
That settled, they checked the village, but it was as the girl said: no one was left alive, and vultures and jackals were already busy among the dead. Hyenas giggled with glee among the huts. They took Wanjiru, for that was the girl's name, to her hut for anything that she could salvage, but all was burned or broken. She burst into tears as she found the remains of her parents and sisters.
Diana Hamilton found an old blanket for Wanjiru, who wore only a brief beaded loincloth and sandals, apart from earplugs and some copper and bead necklaces. No more could be done, for they had to leave to reach the District Commissioner before the post was attacked. Wanjiru had no idea how soon the attackers would come, just that they meant to stash their loot before going. She had heard the raiders say that others of their number were on the way to attack the combined safaris. They had speculated how much loot their brothers would take, and how many white women there were.
"Good thing that we left when we did, " said Diana dryly. "Must be your protective influence that saved us, Morrighan." She winked at Marguerite.
"Probably not, or we'd have been up sooner and on our way even earlier," commented a droll Veronica Malone. "As is, we must have barely missed those savages."
Davenport read a funeral service, although none of the dead blacks were likely to have been Christian. Still, the whites felt better for the effort. Then, they mounted the trucks and left, Wanjiru riding with Chege. She wept, but seemed reassured to be with him.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 27 2009 : 7:03:07 PM
|
Capt. Craig Thorne of the King's African Rifles reined in his horse and signalled for his black sergeant to join him. When that man trotted up, Thorne asked how much further the river was. He needed to water his men and their mounts, and refill their canteens, soon. The patrol had been up north, fighting Somali raiders who often crossed the Kenya border to capture slaves and to poach ivory.
"Bwana, this river, he is maybe an hour's ride. Still, that way." He pointed. "Maybe this time of year, he is mostly dry. But always, if we dig in the river bed, there is water. Tembo (elephants) dig this way, and they always drink."
"I hope so," replied Thorne. "We're getting pretty dry. Right, thanks, M'bombe. Go tell the lads to buck up. We'll camp soon after we get water."
His lieutenant rode over. "Any hope of shooting some game soon, boss? The askaris have been grumbling about the rations. I'm tired of hard tack and bully beef, myself. Mrs. Clifford didn't raise her little boy to live on dust and canned food."
Thorne smiled wryly. "After we get water, we'll push on to get clear of the river and whatever might come there. I don't fancy elephants or rhino bumbling into camp tonight. Let alone hippos! They range quite a ways from water at night. No worries, Clive. I'll let you take out a shooting party to collect some Tommy gazelles or impala before we camp. I crave fresh meat, myself. Tomorrow, we'll check in with the DC and have tea with him, I expect. With luck, Mrs. Musgrave will invite us to dinner. She sets a nice table. And I want to ask Sir John about those drum messages we heard concerning that damned witch doctor. Natives always exaggerate, but that could be grim business, if it's true."
The officers trotted on, talking about the mundumugu, and whether he had in fact gotten together a sizeable force. If he had, their return to Nairobi might be delayed.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 29 2009 : 6:30:09 PM
|
They found the river and journeyed along it until they reached a stretch without animals drinking, and where the water was relatively clear. Thorne had men draw buckets of water, which they strained, then boiled. He called over the sergeant and corporal that he'd borrowed from the Kenya Regiment, the white soldiers. (In the KAR, only the officers were white.)
"Sergeant, get ample water for the jacket of your Vickers gun. If we find that witch doctor's men, we may have need of your talents."
The Vickers machinegun was water-cooled, to prevent the hot barrel from burning up during sustained fire. It and its crew had been borrowed in case of need along the northern frontier, where superior forces of Abbysinian bandits or Somalis might attack his column. In a pitched battle, where he could establish a defensive position. the machinegun might make the difference in whether he and his command survived. He also had several Lewis light machineguns, but they weren't as suitable for sustained fire, and the Vickers fed its .303 rifle ammunition from a long belt. The circular "drum" magazines that fit atop the Lewis guns hald fewer cartridges, and magazines had to be changed frequently in a prolonged battle.
"Right, Sir, we're on it. One of the askaris is already drawing water for us. We'll keep five canvas bags of it handy. Captain, do you mind if we trot down the river a bit and collect some meat? The lads are clamoring for it."
"You, too, eh? Lt. Clifford just had the same thought. All right, Jeffords, you and the Lieutenant take some softnosed sporting ammunition and shoot as many gazelles as you fancy we need. I have a victualing permit from the game department to allow it. We may shoot a buffalo on the way back to Nairobi later, and share the meat with some village. But not tonight. I want to make camp soon. Take five troopers in case you encounter anything nasty, and get back as soon as reasonable. I want to camp within the next hour or so. We'll have enough water boiled and cooled by the time that you're back"
"Thank you, Sir!" The sergeant saluted and looked to see Clive Clifford already reining his horse alongside, a grin on his face.
The sergeant was a reservist, and when not on active duty, was the son of a local farmer. He liked his game and knew how to hunt properly and process meat. Clifford was only a year out of Sandhurst, and had not had many chances to hunt since reaching Africa. He was looking forward to it.
The men stalked the riverine bush, and in short order, had four Thomson's gazelles and two impala down. They cleaned them efficiently, lest the meat spoil, and hoisted the dead animals onto their saddles. The horses snorted and bucked a little, then settled down for the ride to the column.
On the way back, Clifford saw a plume of dust on a nearby road. He raised his binocular, and saw a car with what looked like two women in it. The sergeant confirmed this, and said, "I know them, sir. It's Anne and Jennifer Croft. Their mum took off for England two years ago, but they and their dad stayed on here. He died a few months ago - heart attack- but they're trying to make a go of raising coffee. Probably having a rough time of it, with no man to run things. They're awfully nice girls, not to mention, real lookers. I hope they make it. Got a damned fine piece of land."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
973 Posts |
Posted - July 30 2009 : 6:15:05 PM
|
Clifford said, "I expect we'd better hail them and see if they know anything about this witch doctor. Might be nice to meet them, anyway, eh?" He tried to hide his interest in meeting two apparently attractive young women.
Sgt. Jeffords grinned, and said, "Righto, sir. Good idea."
The soldiers galloped toward the road, and the car swerved in their direction, the driver blowing a hoot on the horn to be sure that they had been seen. As it happened, the girls also wanted to talk to the soldiers.
When Clifford and Jeffords trotted up, their black askaris holding back a little, Anne Croft introduced herself and her sister and asked, "What are you doing about the mundumugu? Our wogs said that he's been raiding their shambas! We sent our Africans into the bush to hide, and we're on the way to see the D.C., and maybe stay there for a few days until troops arrive."
Clifford explained that his patrol had been up in the Northern Frontier District and had heard only a few drum signals about the matter. "We were hoping that you ladies might know more, if anything has been on the radio. We've been rather out of touch."
"You're it?" exclaimed Anne Croft, aghast "One officer, a white sergeant and five Africans? This witch doctor has a force of hundreds, and he's begun raiding native shambas. We saw one burning not two hours ago! We left home as quickly as we could pack some essentials. He's sworn to drive all whites from Kenya, and wants to be a black king."
"Actually, we're just a hunting party," said Clifford, gesturing to the game hanging over their saddles. "We were in dire need of meat, so Capt. Thorne sent us out to acquire some game. Overall, our command is about 90 men. And we have a Vickers gun and several Lewis guns, as well as our personal arms. I daresay that we can give this mundumugu a nasty time if we catch his warriors in the open."
"You mentioned a Capt. Thorne. That wouldn't be Craig Thorne, would it," asked Jennifer, the younger sister.
"Yes, him. Do you know Craig?"
"Oh, yes, we've met," said Jennifer. She seemed to be blushing, or perhaps the sun was a bit hot on her cheeks.
The girls exchanged a meaningful glance, and Anne asked, "I say, could your troops protect us on the way to the D.C.'s place? Are you going there?"
"We are," admitted Clifford. "We were hoping to camp soon, and eat. Bit famished, after living on hard tack and bully beef for over a week, after our fresh rations ran out. If the captain agrees, will you join us for dinner?"
Anne and Jennifer exchanged looks again, and said, "We'd be delighted. We have only our revolvers and a couple of sporting rifles. We shouldn't like to meet those savages where the road runs out and we have to drive at a snail's pace! By the way, David, hello, and how are your family?" She addressed Jeffords.
"They were well when I last saw them," the sergeant replied. "I've been in this soldier suit for a couple of months, and not seen them in weeks. Annual service, you know. After this uprising is settled, you should drop by and see them. I know that Tom would love to see you again." Tom was his elder brother, a bit sweet on Anne.
"Well, look", said Cliffford. "We need to get back to the column. Will you follow us? It's offroad, though. Perhaps I should send a couple of men to the captain instead, with a note, explaining that we have the meat and have met you, and ask that he join us with the column. The camping will be better over here, anyway. We'll be able to see Karanja's mob at a good distance if they approach."
"Sound idea, sir," volunteered David Jeffords. "The captain knows the ladies, and surely will agree that they should have our protection. And the terrain indeed favors us staying on this side of the river. Their car can't cross the river like our horses did at the ford, anyway."
So, they got off the road, and Anne and Jennifer made tea while two gallopers took Clifford's note to his senior officer.
As they drank the tea, several natives came by and told them that Karanja's men had attacked their village. "We are all that is left," wailed one. "This witch doctor is a devil. See how we bleed? We are the fortunate ones. Our families are dead. Help us, Bwana!"
Clifford had his troopers get out their medical supplies and bandage the wounds on a man and a woman, and gave water to all five of the survivors, as those Africans told their tale of woe.
When he had heard what they said, Jeffords said,"It looks as if we may have our work cut out for us, sir. Maybe we should push on to the D.C.'s place tonight." He looked at the sky, estimating how much daylight was left.
Clifford was doubtful, but said to wait for Thorne. "We need to eat. Maybe we can do that and bash on. If we don't get the hides off these animals soon, the meat may spoil. And I doubt that we can reach Sir John by nightfall, anyway."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Topic |
|
|
|
A Lion Comes!
