Ch 2: Into the Jungle

[Tabs]

Burton sensed Carstairs' apprehension regarding the Toad People.

"It seems they are a bad lot who murder whole tribes from spite, Scar's Bat People are an example" he said. "By the way, I believe Scar's facial scars to be some kind of ward against bad magic . . ." and he sketched their pattern in his notebook.

He returned to the "gun running" idea, as Baxter would term it. "Maybe a box of rifles, old ones with limited ammunition, would be welcomed by the Crocodile People, and perhaps we could incite them to attack the evil Toad People?"

[Supercape]

"Maybe a box of rifles, old ones with limited ammunition, would be welcomed by the Crocodile People, and perhaps we could incite them to attack the evil Toad People?"

Lt Franc seemed to warm for the idea after mulling it. "Zis plan is good. We are here to trade. Mainly trade. Un outpost for ze French Empire. I should probably not be aiding ze English, but on ze hand of ze other, as you English say, business is business. I cannot say I like or even trust ze Crocodile people. But I do respect them. On ze hand of ze other, the Toad people..."

He paused dramatically.

"If zey are scaring ze Crocodile people. We should all be afraid. Oui. Set a native on a native. Monsieurs. I will sell you guns for you to sell to ze Crocodile people. I will even give you a discount, courtesy of ze glorious Nation of France! Viva La France!"

"Viva La France!" answered the soldiers, as Sven put his hands in his head in despair.

"It is the Bible they need, not bullets!"

[Priest]

Baxter smiles at the very 'English ' pragmatism that the French officer displays, and opening his flask lifts it in salute. At the Swedes comment he almost breaks into laughter, "No Monsieur it is gin they need" he glances from the Swedes daughter, Erica, to the ever clinging Emellia, "Gin and women", he adds in a whisper.

Then without pausing he turns to Oto, "Your boy - Scar, he can be persuaded to aid us I trust?"

[Mr. Handy]

"I do happen to have a Bible too," says Percy to Sven in a reassuring tone. "Of course, it will do them little good in English. They need Bibles translated into Bantu. They need bullets too, however, for protection from those who wish them harm, such as the Toad People. Did not Jesus Christ tell his disciples before he went to the garden to sell their cloaks and buy swords?"

[Tabs]

Burton spoke to Carstairs and Baxter alone: "Who do we want along for the trip? More the merrier? I was thinking the Lieutenant and maybe some soldiers? . . ."

[Priest]

Baxter joins the conspiratorial group, "If we are going to head off into the uknown, Burton might be right soldiers mean guns and guns mean a restful nights sleep" He glances around , "We will also need bearers to carry our equipment and the guns we seem to be taking to the crocodile people. Thats why I think we should convince Scar that he should accompany us, he seems to know the area and might prove useful in a fight"

Baxter is thinking of the scars on his face and just how effective primitive ju-ju can be, "Anyway chaps, say we find these Toad People, what exactly are we to do with them?" he gestures at Carstair's camera equipment, "Take their photographs?"

[Tabs]

Burton had to think deeply himself. "Find out on behalf of Winston-Smythe if the Toad People are as degenerate as his mad book describes. So Mr. Carstairs taking photographs may be required after all." He taps Carstairs on the shoulder "When the spears start flying you'll be asking folk to keep still and pose. Good luck with that!"

[Mr. Handy]

"I'll have you know I can shoot with a rifle just as well as I can with a camera," says Percy, puffing out his chest.

[Tabs]

"Of course, sir" said Burton "and a better shot than myself I don't doubt."

"Let's all go see the Crocodile People then, maybe a big group of whites will impress them. . . ."

[Supercape]

There was, of course the matter of buying guns. Whilst the French were broadly sold on the idea of supplying the crocodile people with a goodly amount of firearms, Camp Verde was at the end of the day a trading post, and money needed exchanging. The nitty gritty bartering heaved this way and that. The expeditions funds were healthy but with limit. Draining the sterling to all but emergency funds gained the expedition several dozen rifles, and plenty of ammunition, but nobody could pretend that the firearms were anything other than old and poorly maintained. Still, they would do the job; bullets would explode out of one end. The crocodile people hopefully would grasp the right end of the broomstick.

[Supercape]

GM

A couple of weeks later...

The Jungle was thick, now, and going was hard. The Nile was to the east, not far away, and (hopefully) leading to Lake Victoria. It was hot, and damp. Everyone was sweating profusely.

Scar was getting nervous. The young man had proved himself able in the Jungle, and had armed himself with a spear. He had even caught some food for them. Roast snake was a new delicacy for everyone. He had run from some horror even further south when he was a boy of just nine years of age. Yet some skills are not easily forgotten, even with the eight years he had spent wandering Africa since those events. His recollection of the events was blocked out, a memory he could not recount.

Sven and Britt Loren had come along, to try and convert the Crocodile people. They were both surprisingly strong of heart and body, keeping pace with everyone without difficulty. For all their relative ignorance of the realities of the Jungle, they were used to roughing it. Sven intermittently preached to the expedition. Britt kept her mouth shut and was kindly.

Emelia gave the beautiful swede glaring looks, and a different flavour of glare at Baxter. She was an able cook for the party, and had come alive in the Jungle. For her, it was goodbye to an oppressive husband and oppressive country. Here, she felt free.

Wessex was sweating profusely, and complaining about the hardship. He often lagged behind. It was apparent he had no wish to be here, but the money was just too good. And, he hinted, vital - he was in serious debt.

Singh was more than helpful, the large man hacking through the jungle and carrying more than his share of supplies. He kept curiously silent, though, something in Cairo had disturbed him.

FInally, two Frenchmen had come to supervise the gun selling.

Sergeant LeForge was a thin man, but fast. Fluent in English and able to speak Bantu, and brighter than your average grunt, he was a harsh military man, a bully able to keep his men in order. He always kept a revolver and a knife by his belt, and looked more than keen to draw them at the first sign of trouble. He had a healthy respect for the Crocodile people, but still viewed them as brutes. LeForge was a man with a touch of paranoia, maybe that had kept him alive.

Private Paris was his opposite, slow, but powerful. He was not the smartest man, and had a magnificenty broken nose that played over his face. He had a hugely loud laugh. Paris was taller and bigger than even Singh, and almost as strong. He could speak only limited English and basic Bantu, but he was dependable. He carried the standard .30-06 Rifle of the expedition, and was a good shot. He had recently arrived from Paris, and gave Doctor Wessex a knowing look. The man was a fighter, and professed to know Savate. Nobody but Singh dared challenge him on that.

[Tabs]

Burton placed his compass upon a crude map and gently tapped its glass until the needle swung freely. "This direction to the lake" he said to Sergeant LeForge. "Had much to do with the Crocodile People, Monsieur?"

[Supercape]

"It is" said LeForge with a grim smile. "We are in their lands now. The only question is whether they find us, or we find them..."

[Mr. Handy]

"Well, let's see if we can find them first," says Percy. "If they've been through here, they may have left tracks. If we find those, that will lead us to where they are now."

[Priest]

"Hmm" mutters Baxter, pausing to wipe sweat from his forehead and scanning the oppresing jungle, "What's this?" Obviously he has seen something of interest.

[Supercape]

Baxter sees a movement.

Perhaps it is is just an animal. Could be dangerous, could just be one of Chuckles distant relatives hunting nuts.

Could be.

Then another movement. The dense jungle swam into different patterns.

There...

The Crocodile people.

How many of them, Baxter could not be sure. Maybe three, could be more. How long had they been stalking the party? Silent, masters of the hunt. Crocodile teeth adorned lips, ears, and more. Crocodile hide draped along their arms and neck in wild and ineffectual patterns. Leaves string to body to provide camouflage.

Little in the way of clothing; a loin patch. And at least one woman, bare chested.

Skin dark and black, hair even blacker. White shining eyes.

And spears.

All this Baxter soaked up in an instant. The crocodile people looked fearful and aggressive all at once, watching the party with malignant eyes.

One of them caught his eye and hissed. White teeth.

And pulled back his spear to throw...

[Tabs]

Burton stopped dead. His eyes, they were almost as wide and white as the Crocodile People's, swivelled to Baxter: What was he going to do?

[Priest]

Instead of being startled by the sudden appearance of the warriors, Baxter smiles and raises his hands, to show that he has no weapons, "We bring trade goods and would speak to your chief" (said in Bantu of course).

At Burton's reaction he merely smiles and hisses, loud enough for the others to hear, "Stand still, and do nothing aggressive"

[Supercape]

It happened fast.

The hunter threw his spear, just as one of the others to his left hissed "stop!" and pushed the man aside.

The spear flew through the air. Not for nothing where the Crocodile people considered fierce and brave hunters. The throw was strong, and powerful. But the shove had thrown the hunter off balance.

Boiiiiing....

The spear quivered, embedded in a tree a few inches from Baxter's head.

The moment held, like a terse breath.

"What do you want, Whitemen? Why you come with boomsticks?" hissed the second Tribesman, who had quite possibly saved Baxters life.

"Best stay away!"

[Mr. Handy]

"Tell him we've come to trade them the boomsticks," says Percy to Bazter, who knows enough Bantu to get the gist of the conversation but not enough to do the talking himself.