Chapter 8
Tribes United
The Abantu happily accept the Bwana’s offer to share their spectacular riverside location through the remainder of lobo-yaka.
The pilgrimage would resume when the rainy season ended.
The entire tribe was hard at work clearing land on the downriver side of the rock outcropping.
The forest was mostly mature broadleaves that allowed enough light to filter through for patches of ferns and foxtail grasses.
Some trees would be chopped to the ground; others stripped of lower boughs, leaving upper canopies for shading.
Bushwillow came down first. The dense wood was useful for the sturdy poles needed to build shelters, tools and weapons, as well as for firewood. Stripped of bark and left under Ulanga to dry for a few days, bushwillow logs burned long and slow and left a fine, white ash the Abantu mixed with clay to form a waterproofing paste, useful during construction.
Any tall and straight saplings or branches useful as support poles were immediately gathered to use for the rounded, familial shelters that popped up all over the encampment.
An endless supply of palm leaves, papyrus, river grass and vines provided ample material to construct rainproof roofing.
Shallow canals were dug to provide a network of tributaries to drain the daily deluges toward the river.
The digging provided extra mud to mix with the boxthorn ash for daubing into short walls around the circumference of each shelter.
Families were soon able to keep dry all bedding, grass bushels, turtle shells, stacks of firewood and other fast accumulating supplies.
As always, boxthorn made a nasty appearance.
Normally, the Abantu simply burned any type of thorn bush out of an encampment, but the Bwana encouraged the use of the spiked branches to fortify a barricade along the perimeter.
The Abantu had seen the protective barrier around the Bwana village, but did not fully understand what they feared.
Dangerous beasts on the southern shores were given the harshest of lessons and quickly learned to avoid Abantu.
Barricades were rarely necessary
Eku, like everyone, heard talk of the mysterious creatures the Bwana called the bubinzwana.
Kolo said the Mantel were convinced the bubinzwana were the dreaded yolumkono from the warnings of their iposo.
Regardless, sagely advice from people who thrived on this land for generations was not to be ignored and the mothers made it clear the spiked branches were put to good use.
Eku and Yathi spent a miserable day hauling cut brush to the edge of camp, where a formidable barrier was erected.
Stinging from waka scratches, Yat came to their rescue, treating them with poultices to take away the sting and keep the cuts from festering.
Last to come down and perhaps most important were trees the Bwana called, aza-enji-umthi.
Yat told Eku that aza-enji-umthi means a tree that transforms from deep green during lobo-yaka, to fiery orange by the midst of sika-yaka.
More importantly, the Bwana showed the Abantu how to remove the heavy outer bark, then carefully peel away the inner bark to boil into a solution used for softening hides.
An incredibly valuable substitute for brains!
Krele and Shona conjured a rousing and funny song the other mothers instantly adopted:
happiness for aza-enji-umthi
miraculous after boiling
a replacement for the brains
brought by the hunters
always in short supply
and small to begin with
***
Smoke wafted through the trees.
The crack and thump of ax heads contacting wood still echoed, but with less frequency.
Eku wiped watery eyes with a free hand, the other clasped around the leafy branches he pulled toward the burning area.
More miserable and scratchy work.
“I want to go swimming,” Yathi said morosely, also pulling long branches with leaves dry and crumbly. “I wish we were still on the journey.”
“We are still on the journey.”
“You know what I mean. Overnight camps are better.”
Eku could not resist a bit of chiding and said, “When we were traveling, you complained all the time.”
“Only on the days we were hiking,” Yathi corrected.
Eku smiled. “For sure.”
The two young males dragged branches beneath mopane thick with bright young leaves.
Looking across the flat, forested plain over which the encampment was spread, Eku could see far in every direction, the lower branches cut to the height an izik-kosa could easily swing an ax.
Behind them, an impressive communal area was fully cleared with open access to the water. The ground was hard-packed dirt from the daily traffic and the drainage channels were well formed, efficient and lined with rocks.
Tall palms were left for shade and several shelters built beneath. Inspired by the Bwana, the Abantu used the sturdy trunks for support and attached sturdy rafters of bamboo and papyrus to overlay with roofing.
Encircling the communal area, beneath a mix of mopane and other hardwoods, were waka-waka familial huts, round with half-walls of mud, roofs of palm fronds still green, making the dwellings appear as though they grew straight out of the Umawa.
Eku and Yathi dragged branches along worn paths between the huts, heading for the outskirts of camp, where any extra brush was burned along the boxthorn barrier.
Ahead of them, other young Abantu threw branches onto smoldering piles and began to race back.
Tuve, Dokuk and Odi ran by, grinning at Eku and Yathi.
Following came Kolo and Goguk, who bellowed, “Time to go swimming!”
Yathi hollered and lifted his knees to race ahead.
Eku hurried to follow, knowing that if he didn’t, Yathi might just pick him up and haul him to the river himself.
The steady work continued for a few more days, during which Eku and Yathi helped dig fire pits, build racks for drying flesh and stretching hides.
They made (according to Yathi) endless trips to the river to cut bundles of papyrus, as well as (again, according to Yathi) countless treks to the forest to cut palm leaves and gather rope-like vines to keep up supplies for continued construction.
Finally, the Abantu had a fully functional encampment.
***
Ulayo continued to deliver daily storms down shatsheli-lambo.
At the first raindrops, the Abantu stopped what they were doing and ran for the shelters in the community area.
There are no walls, but the roofs are layered with papyrus, woven tightly and arranged in layers and secured tightly to resist Ulayo’s sharpest breath.
As soon as fat drops began making explosive pops off the hollow reeds, the Abantu began to sing.
Much of the Abantu culture centers on song.
Songs of history, for teaching.
Songs for celebration or sorrow.
Songs of Uwama and Umawa.
Tribal songs and family songs.
Songs for harvest.
But mostly, Eku often thought, the Abantu sing songs just for the fun of singing them.
As the rain-driven percussion increased in tempo, the people raised their voices.
The different groups sheltered under the tall palms have contests and do battle with each other until the rain grows louder, battering the papyrus roofs with a frenetictic drumming that winds up in speed and volume, like the cicadas do, but waka-waka louder!
Finally, when the thunder moves in there is nothing other than the rain and the booming and crashing.
Before long, the people emerge to enjoy a brief respite before the heat returns.
Yat called the daily storms vulu-ula-alu, a combination of Abantu and Bwana words that means a time for singing in the rain.
For the rest of lobo-yaka, at the first sight of dark clouds, all across the Abantu encampment there are cries for vulu-ula-alu.
***
While the daily deluges remained predictable, Eku could look forward to something new every day.
Most mornings started with him diligently practicing with his ula-konto.
Once Yathi roused and filled his belly, Eku dragged him to the central rock outcropping, where the hunters met in the cool of morning to share knowledge of traps and snares.
Afterwards, seeing as Yathi remained relentlessly enthusiastic at any opportunity to fish in shatsheli-lambo (which of course, meant unlimited swimming), Eku often found himself down by the river.
Shatsheli-lambo was loaded with catfish, but even better were a fish the Bwana called gwe-lanzi, a swift swimming predator that migrated up and down the river and was revered for its flesh.
Luckily, gwe-lanzi only preyed upon other fish, as they had a full jaw of teeth and grew to the size of a small child.
Daily competitions were held over who could catch the largest prize with the most fearsome fangs.
When Lume captured a spectacular specimen, Eku snatched the skull during butchering, secreting it aside to clean meticulously.
After setting the bones out for a few days to bleach white under Ulanga, he gave it to Yathi, who squealed like a bushpig in appreciation.
The fierce skull with gaping eye holes and jaw full of needle sharp fangs now hung from a string inside their familial shelter.
***
The mopane trees around the encampment were inundated with caterpillars growing fatter by the day and a grove of mature trees has been under constant surveillance.
Eku and Yathi, like all yana, were obligated to occasionally spend time shooing away birds and beasts.
Generally, the interval they spent watching over the mopane was minimal; though, when Yathi was caught peeing for a second time in an area he was not supposed to, both he and Eku—being his ikanabe—were disciplined.
Extra mopane duty was the order of punishment.
Eku really didn’t think of it as punishment (though Yathi certainly did), because the mopane grove was a terrific place to practice with his ula-konto.
Helping to ease Yathi’s pain, Goguk and Kolo tagged along, just for something to do.
Beyond the barrier of thorns, the grove rose in healthy rounded canopies. Continuous traffic by adults to and from the forest kept the area safe for young people to be left to themselves.
While Yathi morosely patrolled the trees, on the lookout for birds and an occasionally bold troop of monkeys, Eku took advantage of the opportunity to have some fun.
First, he stalked and then speared a tuft of grass that was a bush pig.
Next, he crept below low hanging mopane limbs and sprang up to arc a nice throw into an acacia bush that his mind transformed into an impala.
Retrieving the ula-konto, Eku spotted a brush pile that was a charging hyena and whirled to make a short, three-step throw into the center.
Next, Eku bundled together a landing area of small branches and grass and leaves to more diligently practice the three-step throw.
When his arm grew tired, he found Yathi with his back leaned against a broad mopane trunk, Kolo and Gokuk climbing in the canopy above.
“Try not to squish too many caterpillars,” Yathi called as Eku knelt in the grass beside him.
Grumpily, he said, “All I did was pee once outside our shelter.”
“You have to go where everyone else does,” Eku said. “And you did it twice.”
“The first time was the first night and I did not remember where to go.”
“It still counts. We live in a village again, you know.”
Yathi grimaced, “You were right. I do not want to go back to hiking every day, but it is better to just stop and squat.”
Eku grinned. “For sure.”
Goguk and Kolo dropped out of the tree beside them and Yathi felt the need to stand up and lift his loincloth to show his naked butt and demonstrate the act of defecation, replete with groaning, robust farting noises and a pained facial expression.
The four young males laughed and ran off to check another area of the trees.
Eku, figuring his arm had rested enough, practiced another round of throws.
***
The rock outcropping that bisected the encampments has become the place for the tribes to commingle.
The cleared area on the Bwana side of the rocks was particularly suitable.
Where the bank of the river flattened, the rock outcropping rose to about the height of a tall adult, then leveled and ran straight toward the forest, but for a spire, which rose about halfway down, like a dorsal fin on a very long, flat fish.
On the Bwana side, for much of its length, the vast slab of bedrock rose vertically from the earth to form a miniature cliff face, the wall undulated to create slight recesses suitable for groups to gather and talk. The flat, wall-like surface was useful for zoba-upay, an Abantu phrase that meant to draw or paint or simply etch shapes in sand, rock or wood.
Along a portion of the outcropping were scattered, half-buried, rain-worn boulders, as if Uwama had purposefully knocked them into place to serve as natural seating and benching for gatherings of people.
The area was officially designated iliwi-kelele, a combination of Abantu and Bwana words that meant a place by the big rocks for serious talking.
Friendships blossomed at iliwi-kelele and many new and clever ideas took root.
The tribes shared everything—hunting skills, tool crafting, braiding techniques for string and cordage, weaving styles for baskets and cooking pots, techniques for curing and dyeing the skins of beasts.
The mothers pooled their knowledge of the mosses and plants used in poultices for pain relief, for upset digestion and other ailments.
Members of each tribe proved particularly talented at picking up the language of the other and began teaching members of their own tribes.
Yatyambo, as it turned out, had a remarkable ability to learn new words and phrases and spent time each night teaching Eku, Yathi, Kolo and Goguk more about the Bwana language.
The young people naturally began to engage in fun and games and Eku’s foursome soon found a pair of Bwana males of their own age to go on adventures with.
Dala and Longo desired to be nesibindi in the same way Eku wanted to be a hunter and a natural bond was formed.
***
Strange beasts roamed the Bwana encampment.
Everyone on the Abantu side of iliwi-kelele was talking about them.
Kolo, adept at picking up tribal gossip, told Eku, Yathi and Goguk the beasts walked on two legs, but were not people.
The foursome wandered outside a papyrus patch that bordered the area cleared for access to the river, looking for something to do.
Ulanga blazed yellow and Ulayo pushed little air, but boredom, even in the heat, had to be quenched.
Skeptical, Eku asked, “They look like people?”
Kolo appeared equally baffled. Shrugged his shoulders and said, “I have not seen them. But that is what the others say. They are like a person. But they are not like an Abantu or a Mantel or a Bwana.”
Eku thought of the odd looking creature he saw peeking over the rocks on the day they crossed shatsheli-lambo. “We should find out more,” he said.
Yathi said, “Who can we ask?”
Eku sighed and said, “My sister.”
The four tramped away from the river into the community area, where they found Yat with Tar and Maz, the three of them seated upon reed matts with the mothers Krele, Shona, Luvu and Nyama, chatting merrily while using the three-hole bone tool for weaving cordage.
They sat in a circle, next to a trestle loaded with drying sinew, in front of a large, roof-only shelter of papyrus.
The mothers smiled and clicked greetings to Eku and his little posse.
The young males clicked politely to the females and Eku asked if anyone knew anything about the strange Bwana beasts roaming around the Bwana encampment on two legs, like a person.
He stared at Yat, expectantly.
Yat, because of her language proficiency, had visited the Bwana encampment frequently—much to the envy of all the young males.
“I saw them,” she said, looking smug.
“Tell us,” Goguk implored as Yathi called out, “What do they look like?”
“They are silly,” Yat said.
Her hands moved rhythmically, twisting and turning the cylinder shaped tool to braid three strips of sinew into a strong cord.
Eku noted that she wore a new bracelet of a Bwana design.
“They make funny noises,” she explained. “They are like us, but small and have more hair on their bodies. They are pretty, especially the females. They look like an Abantu and a monkey had a baby.”
Eku and Yathi looked horrified at each other, Eku again thinking of the odd creature he saw peeking over the rocks on the day they crossed shatsheli-lambo.
Kolo asked, “Like an Abantu and a monkey had a baby?”
Yat clicked yes and said, “It is hard to describe, but you will see them. They are hairy, but have bare skin, like us. They are called linwelewana. In the Bwana language, linwelewana means the hairless climbers.”
Eku asked, “They like to climb?”
“Yes. They are always hanging inside the big huts. They understand Bwana words, but do not talk. They chatter like monkeys. They are cute and clever. When I see them I want to pet them. For some reason.
“And they are always doing chores. The linwelewana do whatever a Bwana tells them to do.”
***
A major project was planned for iliwi-kelele.
On the Bwana side of the rock outcropping, where the miniature cliff rose highest and smoothest with serendipitous seating rocks scattered all around, a work area was arranged, with fire pits, sharpening stones, racks for curing skins and drying sinew, as well as a temporary hut to house tools and supplies.
The area had become the centerpoint of inter-tribal activity; thus, a much larger hut would be built to complement all of the work taking place.
Like all projects, once conceived, work began immediately.
On the downriver side of the Abantu encampment was an old sandbar, now covered by dirt and enclosing a swampy area, fringed by healthy groves of tall bamboo.
The izik-kosa cut down the perfectly straight culms and Eku and Yathi joined other young members of the tribe transporting the sturdy, but light poles across their encampment and over the rocks to the Bwana side of iliwi-kelele.
When Eku and Yathi dropped off a long pole they were impressed by all the activity.
Many Bwana craftsmen were present, along with the Mantel boat builders and izik-kosa.
With their minimal work obligations done, most of the young Abantu scampered down to the splendid swimming area next to the Bwana walkway of logs, but Eku wanted to linger, intrigued by all the commotion.
He wandered over to where the izik-kosa were gathering around the fire pit with the sharpening stones and the previously built, but small hut.
Yathi began fidgeting and looked longingly toward the river.
“Go ahead,” Eku said.
Grateful, Yathi slapped Eku on the arm and said, “I will find Kolo and Goguk. We will see you later?”
Engrossed by all the activity, Eku only clicked and waved Yathi away.
***
Not sure what to do with himself, but wanting to watch, Eku remained next to the bamboo pile.
There were waka-waka people all around, all adults, all looking busy.
The bamboo pile was not large, as only the tallest culms were harvested. Eku guessed the longer poles were at least three times the height of a tall person.
Next to the bamboo was a more substantial collection of papyrus, all of the shoots cut to the same length and wrapped loosely in bundles, stacked together in a way that made Eku think of conical termite mounds.
The Abantu and Bwana must have been cutting the tall reeds for several days, as some of the stalks had dried to a pale reddish-brown while others were light green and fresh.
The work area, along with the piles of bamboo and papyrus ran along the rock face.
A short distance away, toward the Bwana encampment, in front of Eku, the big hut was underway.
Holes were dug in a circle, where the main support poles for a round structure were erected and Eku saw the entire circumference was almost done. The support poles stood vertical, spaced evenly.
The big hut would preside over a nice, flat area, already worn smooth from the daily tramplings of waka-waka people. Beyond where the big hut would rise were a few scattered palms, and beyond those, he could see the tops of the three giant huts in the Bwana encampment.
Being the only young person present, Eku looked for a place to get out of the way and retreated so that his back was against iliwi-kelele. Looked toward the water, past the piles of bamboo and papyrus and saw Tiuti and the Bwana elder named Wutota were approaching.
The two masters were often together now. One tall. One short. When they approached the Bwana craftsmen, Mantel boat builders and izik-kosa gathered around to begin discussion.
Eku looked in the opposite direction, past the spire of iliwi-kelele and saw Bwana approaching from the treeline, carrying very long logs.
Stuck with people all around and more approaching, the construction taking place directly in front of him, Eku turned and inspected the miniature cliff face.
Went to his toes and stretched his arms over his head, but was only able to curl his fingers over the top edge of the rock. He crouched and sprang up, able to hook his fingers over the top; then, pulling with his arms while pushing off the wall with his toes, hauled himself up and tumbled onto the top.
Stood and adjusted his loincloth, wiping sand and grit off his skin.
On top of iliwi-kelele, Eku could see everything.
The Bwana who marched from the forest were following the length of the rock, heading directly toward him. There were four to each long log—two on each side. The logs balanced on their shoulders were tall and slender, much like the bamboo shoots, only longer and sturdier and stripped of branches.
The Bwana continued down the length of iliwe-kelele, passing in front of and below Eku to deposit the long poles exactly in the middle of where the circular big hut would rise.
***
Standing atop the plateau-like slab of bedrock, Eku could not escape Ulanga, but the heat was tolerable and there was a slight breeze from Ulayo.
He settled on his butt with his feet flat, elbows on knees.
All of the support posts were now in place, forming a large circle.
He watched as the izik-kosa cut some of the bamboo shoots to length, which were then tied at the top and bottom of each support pole to create a strong, supporting circle of columns.
Eku marveled at the diameter.
This would be a big hut indeed!
The three long logs brought from the forest were notched and bound securely at one end. A number of workers straddled each of the three logs while others helped to lift and shimmy the enormous tripod into place at the very center of the circle.
Eku noted yet another group of workers approaching from the Bwana encampment, amongst them, a pair of figures that made him go tense with excitement.
The linwelewana.
Had to be.
Amidst the Bwana, two figures walked upright, like a person, but they were definitely not people.
Eku had to admit, they did kind of look like a monkey and a human had a baby.
He guessed the linwelewana were about his height and adults, judging by their musculature and demeanor. Their skin had a grayish hue with a hint of laza. Fur was heavy down their spines and lower legs.
Too furry to see private parts, Eku guessed they were male because of a lack of teats.
The legs and arms were of similar proportions to his own, but their hands and feet were enormous.
They walked with a stiff gait, their hands stuck forward in a way that looked silly; but then, Eku saw their shoulders were different: knobby and muscular and shaped in a way that forced the arms to angle out, palms forward; whereas, the arms of an Abantu hung inward.
Fascinated, Eku realized the linwelewana were going to play a role in the construction.
***
The framing went quickly with so many people—especially with the help of the linwelewana.
With the outer circle of support poles secure, the next stage was to attach a supporting roof rafter from each support pole to the top of the immense tripod, raised in the center.
The linwelewana were a marvelous help.
Logs had been cut to length and horizontally attached to the tripod legs, making a ladder of sorts, allowing a pair of Bwana craftsmen to climb to the top.
Two, squarish platforms were brought forth and placed facing each other on the outside and inside of a support pole.
Bwana workers climbed atop each platform and waited for others to bring them one of the long bamboo poles.
Once the bamboo rafter was tied securely to a support pole, the long culm was swung into place so the workers at the top of the tripod could grab hold.
That was when the linwelewana sprang into action.
Each linwelewana grabbed a handful of tying vines or ropes and skipped forward two or three strides and launched impressive leaps to grab the bamboo beam just put into place; then, using only one hand to hang, transferred the tying material to a foot, using their long, flexible toes to carry the vines and ropes just as easily as with a hand.
The linwelewana then effortlessly hauled themselves hand over hand to the top of the rafter and used their grasping feet to transfer the material to the two workers on the tripod, who then securely attached the bamboo rafter to the top.
In the meantime, the workers on the ground moved the platforms to the next support pole.
The linwelewana simply hung from the bamboo beam already in place and chatted at each other with squeaks and barks, waiting for the craftsmen to fit the next bamboo beam into place on the support pole.
The noises made by the linwelewana were unlike anything Eku had heard.
Sometimes like the bark of a baboon; other times, the squeaking of a vervet monkey. Their movements were graceful and obviously, the linwelewana were as comfortable climbing and hanging as they were walking on the ground.
As soon as the next bamboo rafter was ready, the linwelewana swung their way back down and jumped to the ground to repeat the previous exercise.
The remaining rafters went up with impressive speed.
Nearly the entire skeleton of the hut was in place by the time Yathi, Kolo and Goguk wandered up from the water to join Eku on the rocks, hooting with excitement at the sight of the linwelewana.
Kolo sat next to Eku and leaned against him to ask, “As good as watching monkeys fly?”
“Yes,” Eku said. “But the linwelewana are not monkeys.”
***
The following day, once chores were finished, Eku dragged Yathi back to iliwi-kelele in the hopes of watching more hut construction—especially if the linwelewana were there.
The two crossed the rocky plateau to see a bustle of activity all around the big hut.
Young and agile Bwana and Abantu swarmed across the ribbing of the roof, winding papyrus stalks above and under the bamboo beams to provide strength. Other workers laid strips of palm to begin the first layer of roofing.
Disappointed, Eku saw no linwelewana.
Yathi, on the other hand, spotted something different and practically shouted, “Eku look!”
Eku followed Yathi’s pointed finger, but saw only disparate groups of people, both Bwana and Abantu. Not sure what Yathi was looking at, he said, “We can go down there. It is different today. There are many people down there and they are just watching. So we can as well.”
Yathi grabbed Eku by the shoulder and pointed again. “No! Look there!”
Something in Yathi’s tone made Eku warily scan the grounds below and he soon realized who piqued Yathi’s interest.
A group of Bwana females were gathered to the river side of the big hut, watching the proceedings from a distance, just as Eku had done yesterday.
Eku and Yathi paced to the edge of the outcropping, squatted and set their hands next to their feet and spun over the edge, dangling for a moment, before dropping the remaining distance.
The big hut looked … well, really big now, Eku thought.
As if reading his mind, Yathi said, “The hut looks so tall from here.”
Eku and Yathi moved along the rock wall toward the river, approaching the work area.
There were izik-kosa working around a fire pit filled with hot coals. There were sharpening stones and vices and other tools set all around and Eku wandered over for a closer look only to have Yathi grab his shoulder.
Irritated, Eku saw Yathi’s eyes feasting upon the Bwana females. He leaned into Eku and said, “Look,”—even though Eku was already looking.
Some of the Bwana females were making pointed looks their way.
Surprised, Eku found himself boldly staring back.
“This is good,” Yathi said, straightening his shoulders, “Females of our age we have not seen before!” Stuck out his chest, hoping that maybe he looked like Kozik and leaned into Eku, accidentally knocking him again.
Eku took his eyes away from the Bwana females to give Yathi an irritated look, but he only stood there with a silly smile.
“Move closer,” Yathi said.
Reluctantly, Eku shuffled a few steps closer, Yathi practically shoving him along.
Eku noticed the Bwana females were smiling and laughing together, the same way Abantu females smile and laugh.
The younger Bwana wore their hair in varied styles like the adults: some short, others with braids or poofy around their head and shoulders, like Yat.
Suddenly and inexplicably, Eku had a powerful urge to be off throwing his keri stick or ula-konto.
He should be practicing!
Struggled through an unusual feeling of panic; but then … Looked at the Bwana females again.
Their breasts were growing, some more than others.
He saw how much the tribes were alike; though, the Bwana favored a darker hue of brown and they all had similarly round noses and almond eyes.
Yathi leaned against Eku and whispered, “We should try some new words.”
“Yes,” Eku replied, though this was one time he waited for Yathi to take the lead.
Strangely, Eku’s tongue felt fat and sticky in his mouth, like he just had honey.
And even more strangely, his eyes kept returning to the same female, as if they were obeying someone other than Eku.
She was tall.
An ostrich bead bracelet graced her right ankle.
Her legs were long and thin and strong and … rather nice to look at.
For some reason.
She was the tallest of the females in the group before them, so tantalizingly close.
Her zebra loincloth looked soft, an excellent pelt. The braided grass-rope belt wound around her waist was decorated with colored beads and clasps of lavender feathers dangled from each hip, where the curve of her buttock and the muscles of her thigh met.
A necklace hung from her neck with a brilliant laza pendant between her breasts.
Eku guessed her hair was long and poofy like Yat’s, but coiled and tied with colored strings to sit elegantly atop her head.
All Eku could see was her profile, but there was something about the curve of her cheek that made him stare.
The delicate line was … what?
Fascinated, he studied the arc between long eyelashes and full lips, noting the shape of her brow, the round nose, the curve of jawline to chin, everything together somehow … perfect.
Sensing his attention, the Bwana female turned and looked and Eku was lost, swimming in her eyes, no longer capable of thinking, let alone saying anything.
She stared back.
The barest of smiles tugged one side of her perfect lips.
Eku realized his own mouth was partly open and snapped it shut.
And continued to stare wordlessly at the beautiful Bwana female.
Who continued to stare back.
Finally, she arched a perfect eyebrow.
The other side of her perfect upper lip turned downward and she made a huffing noise and spun from Eku, walking away; though, she did throw a quick glance back at the strange Abantu male to see if he was staring after her.
Eku was.
***
Over the next few days, Eku spotted the beautiful Bwana female frequenting iliwi-kelele.
Barely aware that he was doing it, he remembered the interval of the day and who she was with.
More and more often, he put himself in the same proximity as she was.
And each time Eku saw the beautiful Bwana female with the laza pendant, his heart quickened; in fact, now if he expected to see her and did not … his heart sank in a way he had never experienced.
But sometimes—and more often it seemed—she would look his way, Eku thrilled of course; though, he always looked in a different direction, lest she catch him staring.
Again.