Fearless Master of the Jungle (A Bunduki Jungle Adventure (30 page)

On the point of deciding which
avenue of escape offered the greatest possibilities, Charole became
aware that she was carrying what might prove a means of turning the
situation back into her
favor. Even if it did not, she would be able to
avenge herself by bringing about the deaths of one, hopefully both,
of the ‘Earths’. With that in mind, pausing close to the rim of the
escarpment, she started to take out the ‘Terrifier’.

Seeing
the warlord rushing at him, Bunduki
was all too aware of his peril. Dawn was unable to use her bow with
any hope of success from the pitching back of the fast moving
elephant. Nor was she close enough to do anything else to help. So
his salvation would have to be achieved unaided. As the
lading
rose until it was
behind Torisaki’s head, the blond giant took a firmer grip on the
wrist-ropes. Then he bounded as if performing a wrestling drop
kick. Hurling his legs forward, the soles of his feet drove into
the center of his assailant’s chest.

The sheer force and
unexpectedness of the attack flung the
warlord backwards in the direction of
an elephant. Winded and hurt so badly that he dropped his weapon,
he felt the trunk coiling around his body. The scream which burst
involuntarily from him came to an abrupt end as the elephant’s
precision instrument tightened with brutal efficiency. Raised into
the air, he was dashed down again and a huge forefoot ground his
body into a bloody pulp beneath it.

Although the Cara-Buntes had
scattered in obedience to their leader
’s orders, they were merely
displaying discretion. In fact, one of the women was sufficiently
cool to try and salvage something from the situation. After his
capture, Bunduki’s shield and knife had been examined and laid
aside until they could be delivered to the ‘bullboats’. Like the
others, she had been impressed by the excellent quality of the
weapons and she decided to collect them before leaving.

As she saw the woman running
towards the weapons, Dawn was determined to prevent them from being
stolen. Bunduki was dealing with the
warlord and she had no fears for his
immediate safety. What was more, she had already made arrangements
for him to be helped.

Swinging her leg forward, she
thrust herself clear of the
swiftly moving elephant’s back. Alighting with the
catlike agility that had brought her success as a gymnast, she used
the momentum she had gathered in closing with the woman.

So eager was the female warrior
to acquire such desirable loot that she failed to appreciate the
danger. She was bending over to take up the weapons when she
received notice of the Earth girl
’s proximity. Rising, Dawn’s right foot
caught the woman in the face. Lifted erect, with her nose gushing
blood, she went over backwards and her head struck the ground hard
enough to knock her senseless.

Although Bunduki had saved
himself from the warlord
’s attack and contrived to alight on his feet, the
terrible strain being imposed upon his arms increased. However, he
was not to suffer for much longer. Advancing and displaying the
sagacity for which their species was renowned, two of the elephants
applied their tremendous weight and strength to snap and bring down
the trees. This gave him relief, but he was still held by the ropes
around his wrists.

Glancing around as she heard
the crackling of breaking wood, Dawn appreciated the gravity of
Bunduki
’s
predicament. Having carried out their function, the elephants were
running on and the rest of the herd was chasing individual members
of the Cara-Bunte party. There was a chance that some of the
warriors who were not the subject of the animals’ attentions would
return and take up the attack.

Thinking fast, the girl decided
what she could do for the best. Plucking her
husband
’s
knife from where it was sticking in the ground, she ran towards
him. Equally aware of the peril, Bunduki put his right foot on the
tree and drew the cord tight about his wrist. That allowed his wife
to liberate the arm all the more quickly. Slicing through the
strands, the razor sharp steel made short work of their
destruction.

There was no time for either
Dawn or the blond giant to speak. Nor was she able to complete the
task. A fortunate gaze around informed her of what the Protectress
was doing. The discovery brought pure primitive emotion. What
little shred of the girl
’s civilized upbringing remained after the
traumatic events of the evening disintegrated as her eyes met those
of the woman who had twice almost caused her death.

‘
Charole!’ Dawn screamed, and the raw animal fury in her
voice made the word a savage, primeval challenge to mortal combat
rather than a name.

Throwing aside her bow without
a thought that she might damage it, Dawn thrust the unsharpened
back of the bowie knife
’s blade into Bunduki’s liberated hand. Then,
snatching her own weapon from its sheath, she darted towards her
hated enemy.

Seeing Dawn coming, Charole
forgot her original intentions. All the deep and bitter hatred she
felt over the way in which the
‘Earths’ had been responsible for the
reverses in her fortunes boiled into a seething rage. She had the
‘Terrifier’ in her right hand and was fumbling with the lid of the
‘fire box’ so as to extract the means of igniting it. Discarding
the device, she jerked free the carrying strap of the ‘fire box’
and let it fall. With both hands at liberty and an encumbrance to
mobility disposed of, she started to snatch out her
sword.

Running through the trees,
Shushi had heard and identified her husband
’s scream of mortal pain. Looking
around, past the cow elephant which was in hot pursuit, she swerved
and flattened her back against the trunk of a large tree. What she
had seen so filled her with rage that she ignored the danger to
herself. Puzzled by her disappearance, the cow had its eye caught
by one of the fleeing male warriors. It thundered past the hidden
war-lady and made him the successful subject of its
attentions.

Returning to the clearing,
Shushi was in a frenzy of grief and anger. For all that, she was
able to decide how best to avenge her husband
’s death. Although the blond
giant had one arm free, his other was still fastened to the top of
the broken tree. So she would be able to take a more subtle
vengeance than killing him immediately. His woman was running
towards Charole. Her death would let him know the pangs of losing a
loved one, but only for as long as it took the war-lady to give him
her undivided attention.

With that thought in mind,
Shushi snatched free the uppermost of her two
halakas.
No other woman in
Cara-Bunte-the weapon was only employed by female warriors-could
equal her skill in throwing for distance and accuracy. Never had
she taken more care, nor been so determined to make a hit, as while
she was preparing to deal with the ‘Earth’ woman.

The hole in the
center of
the
halaka
was for carrying purposes only. To throw it, the user held
it between her thumb and forefinger, then swung her arm in a whip
like motion horizontally from left to right.

Carrying out the procedure in a
way that had become second nature to her, Shushi sent the weapon
hissing towards the
‘Earth’ woman’s running back. It was aimed to catch her
behind the neck and would come close to taking her head from her
shoulders when it arrived.

‘
Drop,
Dawn!’ Bunduki roared, having seen what the war-lady was up to and
retaining a vivid memory of how one of the Wurka-Telongas had been
killed by such a device.

Although the girl had no idea
why her husband had given the warning, the urgency in his tone was
such that she instantly obeyed. Nor was she a moment too soon.
Spinning by above her head, the
halaka
almost brushed against her hair in
passing. However, having missed, it continued its flight to
Charole’s horror.

On the point of dashing to meet
the
‘Earth’
girl, the Protectress saw the deadly missile thrown and its
aftermath. To her terror, the razor-edged, whirling harbinger of
death was now coming straight at her. Although involuntary, her
reaction was to save her life. Forgetting how close she was to the
edge of the escarpment, she took a pace to the rear. Her foot came
down on empty air and she toppled backwards. Just as it had
narrowly missed Dawn’s head, so it came close to grazing the tip of
Charole’s nose as it flew past. Managing to retain her hold on the
sword as she plunged downwards, she also contrived to turn what
started out as a helpless plunge into something just passable as a
dive before she reached the river and entered it without
injury.

Seeing the failure of her
first
halaka,
Shushi did not offer to use the other. Instead, she rushed
forward. Although she realized from what she saw that there was no
hope of reaching her enemy before Dawn stood up, neither did she
draw the
rentjong.
Not only could it be used most advantageously straight from
the sheath, but the way in which it was produced had frequently
allowed her to get the best of opponents from other nations who did
not appreciate its deadly qualities.

Confirming the
war-lady
’s
summation with regard to her agility, Dawn did not stay down for
long. In fact, the moment the
halaka
had passed overhead, she prepared to rise. A
glance over her shoulder had warned her of just how little time was
available for her to do so. Bounding up, she whirled to halt in a
knife-fighter’s crouch and studied the way in which Shushi was
approaching.

Employing similar tactics
to
those
that had proved successful in combats against captured Mun-Gatah,
Gruziak and Amazon female warriors, the war-lady advanced with her
hands held as if she did not intend to rely upon a weapon. Not
until she was close enough for her system to operate effectively
did she put her real purpose into effect. Darting across, her right
hand closed around the extended butt of the
rentjong s
‘duck’s head’ hilt. She
commenced the move with her left leg in advance. As the blade was
leaving the sheath with its cutting edge turned towards her enemy,
she brought her right foot forward in a short, quick step that was
calculated to add impetus to the stroke she was about to essay. The
blow would be made by whipping the weapon to the right, turning her
hand so that the palm was upwards and keeping the elbow close to
her side. Then, on thrusting until the arm was fully extended, she
would rotate her fist until its knuckles faced the ground just
prior to the point penetrating the target.

On every previous occasion that
Shushi had delivered
such an attack, she had emerged victorious.
However, none of her former antagonists had been conversant with
the most effective way in which a
rentjong
could be used. Unfortunately for her, she
knew nothing of Dawn’s family background.

In the course of an eventful life, Sir
Armond John Drummond-Clayton had had many occasions when his
continued existence had depended upon his ability to use a knife.
So he had taken a great interest in all matters pertaining to the
subject. While other members of his family had travelled the world
studying wild animals, his journeying had also encompassed
investigating the specialized ways in which the trenchant arms of
various nations could be used.

Having helped in the production
of her father
’s book
^lxxvi
—which had entailed a detailed
study of films showing various types of weapons in use—and being
possessed of an excellent retentive memory, Dawn was aware of
the
rentjong
’
s
unique qualities. She had seen them being wielded by the
designers, the Atjehs of Sumatra. Furthermore, she had learned the
counter move perfected by Sir Armond. What was more, effective as
the
rentjong
was, she held the finest product that the experience of
expert knife-fighters and skilled craftsmen could produce.
^lxxvii
One noted authority
^lxxviii
had referred to the Randall
Model 1 ‘All Purpose’ fighting knife as a ‘refined and perfected
“bowie”. So she was well equipped materially as well as mentally to
cope with this latest threat to her life.

Acting with the same almost
instinctive reflexes that had carried her through all of the
evening
’s
events, Dawn brought her knife around to meet the
out-thrusting
rentjong.
At which point, Shushi learned how it felt to be taken
unawares. It was a lesson from which she would never profit. She
realized that her weapon was being deflected. Even as an
understanding of what that meant began to sink home, it was too
late to react to the peril.

Liberating her own blade, Dawn used it
with swift and deadly precision!

Flickering briefly as it moved,
a gash which became crimson an instant later opened across the
war-lady
’s
throat in the wake of the knife’s passage. Letting the
rentjong
slip from her
fingers, she sent her hands in a mindless and futile attempt to
staunch the blood that was pouring from the mortal wound. Stepping
swiftly aside as she completed the stroke, Dawn allowed her
stricken assailant to be carried onwards by the momentum of the
averted attack. Knowing that she was dying on her feet, Shushi
forced herself to stumble onwards until she could fall across the
lifeless body of her husband.