Read Online 10 Gorilla Adventure by Willard Price - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Willard Price
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stood off to see what the bird would make of it.
The honey guide flew down and pecked about but found nothing. It flew up to perch on a branch and peer at Tieg with one eye. For a while it was quite silent. Tieg was highly pleased with himself. It was a pleasure to be able to cheat somebody or something, even if it was only a bird.
Presently the honey guide stirred. It fluttered a bit and found its voice. It took off and flew to another tree, cher-ing loudly and fluttering excitedly.
So this was another come-on, Tieg thought. The bird would lead him to another beehive. This time there would be no honey badger to make a mess of things.
He followed the bird, which flew from tree to tree, finally stopping at a hollow stump and circling about it just as it had circled around the branch.
The hive must be in the stump. The trees cast heavy shade and Tieg could not see into the hollow, but he noticed that there were no bees flying about. That was good - perhaps they were away on an expedition, leaving the home unguarded. All he had to do this time was to reach in and take out the entire honeycomb, perfect and unbroken, and carry it off to the village.
He reached in and was immediately bitten by very sharp teeth. He pulled out his hand and whatever it was that had bitten him clung on to it.
Out came a cat-like animal spotted like a leopard, but smaller, with a black mask over its face.
It was no sooner out than it sprayed Tieg with a shower of evil-smelling secretion so strong that it might have paralysed a skunk. He swung it about trying to free his hand, but only succeeded in provoking it to send out more foul-smelling blasts that soaked him from head to toe.
It was the civet’s method of self-defence. All animals, big and small, had learned to leave the civet alone. The smell was like that of very strong ammonia. It burned the inside of the nostrils of any creature that smelled it. Strangely enough, the stuff was used commercially as a base for perfumes. Of course its odour was completely changed in the process. But in its raw state there was nothing more disagreeable. If a monkey was sprayed, the other monkeys would have nothing to do with him. And, unluckily, the stink had a lasting quality and could not be washed away or rubbed off.
The civet prowls about at night but lies up during the day in some dark hole. The hollow stump was this animal’s home sweet home, and it hotly resented being disturbed. After it had bitten deep and sprayed out everything it had to give, it dropped again into its hollow, giving some low-pitched, throaty coughs as if it could hardly stand its own smell.
Chapter 11
The salty baboon
Searching for the leader of the gang that had slaughtered sixty gorillas, Hal and his men walked into the village of Kala.
It was a poor village. The houses were small and had no windows. The walls were of mud, the roofs were thatch made of papyrus - the same plant from which the ancient Egyptians made paper.
The people did not look too healthy but they were in a gay mood because this was the day when they would celebrate the election of a new chief. There would be a solemn ceremony when the present chief, now eighty years old, would pass on his authority to his son.
But this morning the old man was still chief, so Hal inquired the way to his house. He found a fine old gentleman with all the best qualities of a chief, but the withered body of a man who all his life had never had enough to eat.
After the usual courteous greetings spoken by Hal in English and translated into Swahili by Joro, Hal asked:
‘Do you know a man named Nero? He hunts gorillas.’
‘Yes, I know him.’
‘Will he be here today?’
‘I hope not. He is not welcome in this village.’
‘We hope he will come,’ Hal said. ‘We want to invite him to go with us to the police and explain why he is killing gorillas without a permit.’
‘Good,’ the chief said. ‘He should be punished for killing our people.’
‘Your people?
The honey guide flew down and pecked about but found nothing. It flew up to perch on a branch and peer at Tieg with one eye. For a while it was quite silent. Tieg was highly pleased with himself. It was a pleasure to be able to cheat somebody or something, even if it was only a bird.
Presently the honey guide stirred. It fluttered a bit and found its voice. It took off and flew to another tree, cher-ing loudly and fluttering excitedly.
So this was another come-on, Tieg thought. The bird would lead him to another beehive. This time there would be no honey badger to make a mess of things.
He followed the bird, which flew from tree to tree, finally stopping at a hollow stump and circling about it just as it had circled around the branch.
The hive must be in the stump. The trees cast heavy shade and Tieg could not see into the hollow, but he noticed that there were no bees flying about. That was good - perhaps they were away on an expedition, leaving the home unguarded. All he had to do this time was to reach in and take out the entire honeycomb, perfect and unbroken, and carry it off to the village.
He reached in and was immediately bitten by very sharp teeth. He pulled out his hand and whatever it was that had bitten him clung on to it.
Out came a cat-like animal spotted like a leopard, but smaller, with a black mask over its face.
It was no sooner out than it sprayed Tieg with a shower of evil-smelling secretion so strong that it might have paralysed a skunk. He swung it about trying to free his hand, but only succeeded in provoking it to send out more foul-smelling blasts that soaked him from head to toe.
It was the civet’s method of self-defence. All animals, big and small, had learned to leave the civet alone. The smell was like that of very strong ammonia. It burned the inside of the nostrils of any creature that smelled it. Strangely enough, the stuff was used commercially as a base for perfumes. Of course its odour was completely changed in the process. But in its raw state there was nothing more disagreeable. If a monkey was sprayed, the other monkeys would have nothing to do with him. And, unluckily, the stink had a lasting quality and could not be washed away or rubbed off.
The civet prowls about at night but lies up during the day in some dark hole. The hollow stump was this animal’s home sweet home, and it hotly resented being disturbed. After it had bitten deep and sprayed out everything it had to give, it dropped again into its hollow, giving some low-pitched, throaty coughs as if it could hardly stand its own smell.
Chapter 11
The salty baboon
Searching for the leader of the gang that had slaughtered sixty gorillas, Hal and his men walked into the village of Kala.
It was a poor village. The houses were small and had no windows. The walls were of mud, the roofs were thatch made of papyrus - the same plant from which the ancient Egyptians made paper.
The people did not look too healthy but they were in a gay mood because this was the day when they would celebrate the election of a new chief. There would be a solemn ceremony when the present chief, now eighty years old, would pass on his authority to his son.
But this morning the old man was still chief, so Hal inquired the way to his house. He found a fine old gentleman with all the best qualities of a chief, but the withered body of a man who all his life had never had enough to eat.
After the usual courteous greetings spoken by Hal in English and translated into Swahili by Joro, Hal asked:
‘Do you know a man named Nero? He hunts gorillas.’
‘Yes, I know him.’
‘Will he be here today?’
‘I hope not. He is not welcome in this village.’
‘We hope he will come,’ Hal said. ‘We want to invite him to go with us to the police and explain why he is killing gorillas without a permit.’
‘Good,’ the chief said. ‘He should be punished for killing our people.’
‘Your people?
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