Read Online Adventures by Mike Resnick - Free Book Online Page A

had left, then climbed cautiously down and examined our ivory.
    “Looks like about one hundred and thirty pounds a tusk,” I said.
    “At least,” said Herbie. Then, “Lucifer, I've got a question.”
    “What is it, Herbie?”
    “How are we going to get the tusks off the elephant?”
    It was a right smart question at that. We spent the better part of the afternoon hunting up long sharp stones, and all of the next day chopping away at the tusks. Herbie got thirsty in his unique way toward late morning, and I damned near flattened his head with my stone, after which he was well behaved for the rest of the day. By nightfall we had managed to chop off the tusks, and not a moment too soon, since our elephant wasn't turning into any nosegay and the vultures were getting dangerously low in the sky.
    “Now what?” asked Herbie.
    “Now we carry them back to camp,” I said.
    “I don't know about you, Lucifer,” said Herbie, “but I don't think I can lift my tusk.”
    “Of course you can,” I said.
    “I only weigh about a hundred and ten pounds,” said Herbie.
    “Try dragging it,” I said.
    So he tried. He got it about forty feet away from the carcass and collapsed.
    “Okay,” I said. “I'll tell you what we'll do. Grab the front end of my tusk, I'll take the rear end, and we'll cart it to camp like that and then come back for the other one.”
    He agreed, and we started off through the bush. It was two hours later when we staggered into camp, and we decided not to go back for the other tusk until the next morning. Poor Herbie was so exhausted that he didn't even try to nab me in the neck that night before I tied him up, and I literally had to kick him awake the next morning. Then, stiff and sore and aching in every muscle, we set out for our other tusk.
    We never did find it. All them bushes and trees and rivers and trails got to looking alike, and after about seven or eight hours we had to admit we were as lost as two people were ever likely to get.
    We wandered for another day or two and couldn't even find our original camp. Finally, on our third day of searching, we came to a Wanderobo village, where we were given a red-carpet treatment and feted like visiting ambassadors.
    The chief was a nice old boy called Nmumba, and he had picked up a smattering of English from various hunters and traders over the years. He sat us by his campfire, surrounded us with his naked daughters, and served us a native brew that was even more potent than Kitunga's. Every now and then he'd make a joke. The way we knew this was he'd goose one of his daughters and she'd shriek like all get-out, and this was our signal to laugh.
    I was wondering what to do with Herbie, because it was getting near bedtime, and it somehow didn't seem proper to truss him up while we were in Nmumba's village. I mentioned this to him, and he looked downright serious as he answered me.
    “l really think you'd better tie me up tonight, Lucifer “, he said. “I've been getting the craving real bad. I suppose it's all them naked necks.”
    If you say so,” I said. “Also, I have a feeling that he'd be something less than a gentleman if he didn't offer us a couple of his daughters for the night.
    “I'll never be able to make it!” said Herbie. “I'm getting thirsty just thinking about them!”
    I made our excuses and took Herbie off to a hut where I tied him up to one of the support poles.
    “If he offers us his daughters, I'll accept both of them just as a matter of good manners,” I said as I was securing the knots. “But don't you worry none, Brother Herbie: It's my Christian duty to keep them away from you.”
    Which it was, and which I did.
    When I got up in the morning Nmumba decided to show me around the village, being careful to explain that it was only a temporary dwelling place since the Wanderobo are basically nomads, but that it was ours as long as his tribe remained there. Finally we walked over to a huge hut that had to be holding a good