Chapter 18
Attack of the Bubinzwana
Beneath an opening in the canopy, the bubinzwana bounced.
Packed together with just enough space to allow each individual to hop in place.
Illuminated by the last slivers of Yanga’s light, upon a flattened terrace near the peak of the mountain.
Well above where the flat faces nested by the river.
Banging together, shoulder to shoulder, so the formation kept everyone upright.
In unison.
Feet pounding.
A single, thudding heartbeat, so that even the mountain feels their presence.
Grunting.
Growling.
The sharp exhale of breath.
All of the clan’s males faced the center, the alpha at its heart.
Bouncing.
When the alpha issued orders, the sounds came as a mix of barks and possibly words.
The humans who can hear at the bottom of the mountain cannot tell for sure; though, in the quiet of the coming dawn, they clearly hear the voice of a savage beast that walks on two legs and carries weapons.
As a human does.
At the top of the mountain, the alpha commanded and the clan listened.
Finished, he tilted his enormous head back and roared, a blood curdling sound.
All of the bubinzwana roar.
An avalanche of sound descends.
All forest denizens react.
Ears flicker.
Fur ripples.
Feathers ruffle.
Any beast within hearing range paused what it was doing.
Those sleeping became awake.
A feeling akin to sexual intensity spreads amongst the bubinzwana.
We hunt!
Their stench was heavy.
Adrenaline and hormone levels were spiked.
The bubinzwana gathered weapons and descended upon the river.
***
The nesibindi had no choice but to listen.
The roaring of the bubinzwana became visceral.
A terrifying clamor plunging down the mountain and through the trees to tear across the floodplain.
The nesibindi stand close enough to touch.
Lifelong friends with familial bonds.
Each having taken a vow to stand guard and protect the tribe.
Whatever the cost.
They are the first warriors.
The nesibindi stand beyond the arc of fire pits, far enough away to preserve their night vision.
The darkness of dawn only allows a glimpse of a comrade’s shape.
A glint of teeth or the pale of an eye.
The terrain is unseeable in the black, but they are familiar with what is around them.
The old inlet was flat and covered with thistle and grass and few small palms.
The shape of the mountain loomed over the treeline before them, black against almost black.
Uta assured them the bubinzwana will wait for Ulanga to rise.
They have no more ability to move through the dark than a human, he said, many times during tribal council.
Uta stood with them at the center of their formation.
His is the pillar upon which all of the young nesibindi anchor their courage.
Despite Uta’s presence, there was not a single hand that gripped his spear without the greasy sweat of fear on the palm.
The young nesibindi wiped hands on loincloths.
Waiting for the bubinzwana to emerge from the black.
***
The bubinzwana at the front are clear on their objective.
Capture young females and carry them away.
Kill any flat faces that try to stop them.
For some time, the alpha considered an attack with a smaller, more agile raiding party.
But each time the plan was dismissed.
The flat faces moved in a disciplined herd.
Always.
More importantly, the young ones and especially the female fledglings were never allowed to stray.
Remaining well protected.
And since a surprise raid would require a small enough group to remain undiscovered, they would not have the numbers to succeed.
Begrudgingly, the bubinzwana had to admit the flat faces were clever stalkers.
A bubinzwana nose missed nothing, after all.
Unfortunately, the only time they caught the scent of a flat face scout was after he was gone.
The bubinzwana know the flat faces have been watching them.
Just as they have been watching the flat faces.
With so many bodies, neither clan can hide from the other.
Until now, maintaining distance.
Biding their time.
The flat faces were clever prey, after all.
Far more clever than anything the young bubinzwana have hunted before.
But this hunt was not about food.
There was plenty of that.
To capture the flat-faced females, the alpha decided on a raid where every male member of the clan would participate.
They would overwhelm their greater numbers with a concentrated attack, and in their confusion, capture the females they wanted.
The bubinzwana at the front of the horde were close enough to see the fires.
That was good.
They liked fire and used it all the time, even for things other than cooking food.
Like hardening the ends of the spears they were about to use.
The bubinzwana can finally smell the flat faces up close.
Excited growling.
Some even salivate in anticipation.
There was no mistaking the familiar stench of a flat face; only now, came the spicy addition of their obvious terror.
***
Uta and the nesibindi watched the dim shapes of the bubinzwana emerge along the treeline.
Only a few at first.
Some of the nesibindi hurled rocks.
They were surprised when the bubinzwana tossed a few back.
The same as a human would.
The two groups were but a short sprint apart now.
Everyone remained quiet.
Uta knows the bubinzwana recognize his nesibindi as a fighting force to be reckoned with; after all, this was the same tribe that once pillaged the shores of ichi-Bwana.
Both he and Kafila were sure of that.
Somehow fated to follow the same path as the humans did to find the land of legend.
And meet again.
Both groups know that simply charging forward in the black would accomplish nothing more than getting skewered on a spear.
So the bubinzwana wait for the light.
Uta knows they are confident, to have gathered so boldly, right in front of them.
He wondered why and knew they would find out soon enough.
The bubinzwana were savage beasts, but always had a plan.
They were very clever.
Uta can only hope they have properly prepared for whatever the beasts might throw at them.
The Bwana chieftain nearly yelped at a sudden tumult of voices behind them, from within the encampment.
Aghast, he realized that some of the young Abantu hunters were singing.
***
Inside the shelter, Eku lay with his mother in total black, listening to the blood curdling roar of the bubinzwana hunting party.
The roaring rolled over the encampment like a landslide, making Eku wonder if the walls of the shelters might shake apart.
What kind of beast could produce such a volume of sound?
Terrified, he calmed at Krele’s soft clicking and softer touch.
She grabbed hold of his bicep and let go.
“I am here, Eku,” she said. “And there is protection all around us. We are prepared. Try not to be too afraid.”
Eku sat on his butt, legs bent so his feet were flat against the bed mat, as were the palms of both hands, arms straight at the sides.
Krele sat next to him, not touching, but close enough for Eku to feel her body heat.
As the hunting cry of the bubinzwana faded, babies began to cry.
Sitting in the dark with his mother, Eku can see nothing and hears little, but his mind feels his tribemates.
Sharing their fear.
Soft whimpering has joined the crying of babies.
Clicking and shushing.
Eku felt as though his heart stopped when his mother said from out of the black, as though directly into his ear, “Eku, I am sorry, but I have to go. It is my duty. You must stay here.”
“But why?”
The question came out too fast and Eku hated the scared tone of his voice, thinking he sounded like a child.
But Krele touched him with her wonderful mother’s touch and made clicks that were apologetic, making Eku feel guilty for not being more brave.
“I know you are frightened, Eku, but I must go where the other mothers are.”
“I know.”
“And you must stay in this shelter, so I know where you are.”
“I know.”
Apologetic, Krele sighed and added, “Eku, I am sorry, but this will not be for long. I don’t think so anyway.”
There was a series of clicks from outside the shelter.
Eku recognized his aunt Shona and his mother clicked back.
Krele’s hand fumbled over his knee and found his arm and rubbed across his shoulder to the back of his neck where her fingers kneaded the back of his head the way he liked.
“Eku this will be over soon,” she said. “I am sorry for not moving us earlier. I hoped that it would not happen so quickly.”
“Why are you leaving? What is happening?”
Krele used the hand on his neck to pull him closer and kissed the top of his head so he felt her teeth.
“Eku, the bubinzwana are coming. That is what we hear.”
“I know.”
“Then you know we are prepared. And because I am an older mother, I must go where the tribe needs me. We are part of the protection—but only if necessary.”
“I remember,” Eku said, thinking of what he had heard while still awake during the tribal council.
“So I have to be with aunt Shona and the older mothers.”
Still fearful, Eku clicked yes.
“Eku be sure you stay here,” Krele insisted.
“But what can I do?”
“Nothing, Eku. You are too young. There is a circle of safety all around you, but you must NOT leave this shelter. This is the safest place you can be.”
She kissed him on the head again and crawled out of the shelter.
***
Alone in utter darkness, Eku sat perfectly still.
Listening.
Stuck his chin between his knees and wrapped forearms around the shins and pulled so his heels hitched up against his butt.
Made himself small and compact.
Rocked between his feet and butt cheeks, the way he liked to do.
Staring into the black.
Willing something to come into his vision.
Anything.
Listening to the intermittent, bark-like sounds of the bubinzwana, who called back and forth across the slant of the mountain.
Were those simply the calls that monkeys or birds made to each other over distance?
Or were they using words, like humans?
Difficult to tell.
Curious, Eku thought, how they make no attempt to hide a methodical approach.
Adult voices rang out.
Cryptic communications across the encampment.
Eku realized by the juxtaposition of encampment sounds versus what came from the mountain, the bubinzwana were still a distance away.
Felt somewhat relieved.
They were so loud!
Only now Eku reasoned how the shape of the mountain influenced their sound.
Amplified the volume, somehow.
Made them more terrifying to the mind.
So they were only beasts, after all.
His father had assured everyone of that.
Oh!
Did he see something?
Yes!
An oval of light emerged from the black.
The shelter exit.
Eku shifted to lean forward.
Slivers of gray appeared above the oval, in parallel—gaps between the reeds and saplings.
Ulanga was rising, but still behind the mountain.
He wondered what to do.
Nothing.
Mother said to stay here.
Yat was with Tar and Maz—and Ingwe!
But where was Yathi?
And Kolo and Dala and Longo?
They were directed to the most central area of the shelters.
Where all of the other young people were.
Eku remembered that Dokuk would be outside, with the hunters.
That must be very scary.
As though his voice could carry all the way to wherever Dokuk was currently stationed, Eku whispered, “Stay close to Kozik and Ingwabi, until you have a hunting ikanabe.”
Coming to a decision, Eku spun to his hands and knees.
Crawled forward along the contours of the bed mat.
Stuck his head through the oval opening.
Cooler air.
The contours of the shelter before him took shape: faint rows of water reeds, thick as his thumb, woven in and out of the flexible ribs.
Eku heard the whine of cicadas.
A nearby cricket focused only on defeating the nearest competitor.
But then—what was that?
A strange noise!
Confused, at first, Eku realized that some of the young Abantu hunters were singing.
***
Dokuk was amongst the young Abantu hunters organized into groups across the area between the shelters and the outer ring of fire pits.
The hunters sat or knelt and tried to remain relaxed.
Talking softly amongst their assigned groups.
Listening to the bubinzwana descend the mountain.
Each young hunter held an ula-konto and had another strapped to the back.
Axes and daggers hung from cordage around their waists.
The initial roar of the bubinzwana was frightful, but there had been few loud noises since.
An occasional bark or growl.
Through the tenseness of waiting, a young hunter was taken with the idea of singing.
Having never experienced such a terrifying situation, the young hunter felt the onslaught of panic and … Well, it just seemed like a logical thing to do?
The older hunters used songs to scare predators. Sometimes.
And they did not exactly forbid singing.
Had they?
In fact, no one was actually trying to stay quiet or concealed…?
Spontaneous, as young people can be, the young Abantu began to sing a song that hunters used to shoo away lions and hyenas.
Some of his nearby comrades impulsively joined in.
Others took up out of habit and the young hunter felt proud.
Who knows?
Maybe the song will work against the bubinzwana as it does with lions and hyenas?
**
Mocking.
Disdain.
The silly noises of frightened prey came in many varieties.
But curiously, the flat faces do so in unison.
That part was different….
//
They do not sing back.
They simply roared, as they did at the top of the mountain.
Sharing their unbridled aggression for the hunt.
Hearing each other and feeling another tremendous dose of adrenaline, making their voices louder.
//
Eku recoiled, as he would from a sudden clap of thunder.
The sound was felt physically.
Like a literal blow to the body.
He thought of bull elephants and their fierce trumpets.
Of male lions and the terrible roars made as they battled to the death over the future of a pride.
The bubinzwana were worse.
More terrifying.
Eku remained on his hands and knees.
His arms trembled and he felt almost as though he was going to collapse and fall to his face.
His mind ran wild and loose.
Conjuring dripping fangs, vicious claws and terrifying eyes.
Bumps appeared on his skin.
The palms of his hands released sweat into the dirt.
Eku’s arms feel weak as the fear seems to suck at his strength and pull him toward the soil where he would lie quivering and weak and helpless
A voice cried from the mind, “You should not be here!”
Who said that?
Umawa?
Uwama?
Telling the Abantu they should never have left.
That was it!
They should run back to her water.
Now.
Here, starting with the river.
Run into the river.
Eku has a moment of absurd logic: of course!
Surely a bubinzwana cannot swim.
We will be safe in the waters of Uwama.
Umawa was too dangerous.
Eku thought of his dream when they were traversing the escarpment of rock.
How his dream said they should never have left home.
They should never have left Uwama.
***
How many times had father and Tiuti talked to Eku about overcoming his fear?
Felt chagrined and boldly crawled the rest of the way out of the shelter.
Stood.
Facing away from the encampment, at the water.
Firelight cast enough light for Eku to see the pale, rounded tops of many shelters before and around him, like stick-covered carapaces of giant ubhak-unda.
Beyond the shelters, the margin of lighter, river grass was all that distinguished the river from a background of black.
Each domed shelter rose to about the same height: a bit taller than Eku.
He pivoted and went to his toes to look past the shelter he was in.
Across the encampment, waka-waka dark figures lurked between the shelters and the arc of orange fire pits.
Hunters.
Crouched or kneeling.
Occasionally standing to look around, then sinking into a similar pose.
Not hiding.
Simply waiting in their groups and teams.
Eku saw other individuals slinking along the periphery, keeping movements minimal as they occasionally tossed fuel into the orange glow of a fire pit.
Eku tried to spot Kozik or Dokuk amongst the dark shapes of the hunters, but the light was too dim.
Looked in the direction upriver.
Mothers and benzi-kusela crouched or kneeled in the dirt.
He could see them more clearly than the hunters, due to the light from the large fire next to the upriver barricade.
Eku picked out the familiar shapes of his mother and aunt Shona, sprawled on their bellies, looking toward the forest.
He wondered where uncle Lume and the izik-kosa were stationed?
Eku was sleepy during the later stages of the tribal council and probably missed more than he realized.
Where were the Mantel?
And Father?
Eku did know that Kaleni would be outside of the encampment, with the most experienced hunters.
Same as the nesibindi.
Exactly where, he was not sure.
He tried not to think about being beyond the encampment and in the forest.
That was too scary.
Remaining on his toes, Eku shifted in the dirt to look the other way.
The large fire on the downriver side was even brighter.
Firelight glinted off the stems and leaves of a barricade not even an elephant could break through.
A bump in the terrain blocked his view of what lay to the right of the large fire.
A better angle would be around the hut next to his.
Eku stepped quietly, lest someone on the inside of the surrounding shelters notice his movement.
Held his breath when he eased past a dimly lit, oval opening.
Relieved to hear no voices from within.
No doubt everyone was awake now.
But remaining in their shelters.
Unlike Eku….
Once around the big hut next to his, Eku could see across the rest of the encampment.
The large fire on that end was bright enough to see past the arc of fire pits, where the izik-kosa sheared away the grove of saplings.
Firelight reached the jumble of earth and stone and bush that formed the base of the talus of the ridgeline and mountain.
Amongst the boulders and gnarled bushes, Eku saw movement.
Bubinzwana!
***
The bubinzwana were almost ready.
Coming down the mountain, two smaller groups separated from the main pack.
The first moved in a direction upriver.
The second forged ahead in a direction downriver, circumventing the floodplain and then climbing briefly again to approach the flat face lair from the talus of the ridgeline and mountain.
Using the club ends of their sturdy spears, they carefully worked their way down an incline littered with shards of granite and thick bushes.
Approaching until they could see the barrier the flat faces built to prevent access from the shoreline.
How silly.
Futile.
The ring of fire pits lay in front of the bubinzwana, curving across the encampment.
They see the flat faces behind, waiting.
The bubinzwana pushed through the last of the bushes to reach level ground and charged.
***
Heart in his throat, Eku fought the urge to simply holler an incoherent something and watched a confrontation that proved short, but fierce and surprisingly, without any bloodshed.
The moment the bubinzwana appeared, voices rang out.
Movement from every direction across the encampment.
Bwana who Eku had previously not identified—having been cleverly camouflaged amidst matted grass and piles of palm leaves—sprang up and used slings and strong throwing arms to hurl stones at the bubinzwana, who, curiously, as soon as they charged past the fires, skidded to a halt.
Heart in his throat, Eku watched the beasts crouch low, using burly forearms to shield their heads and faces from the pelting of rocks.
Took their arms down and glared at the stone throwers, who, after throwing the rocks quickly armed themselves with axes.
But the bubinzwana came no closer.
Eku saw hairy faces with fierce eyes glinting firelight below a heavy ridgeline.
They were naked and heavily muscled.
When more rocks are thrown, their huge thighs and round butts shudder and bulge as they jump and dodge.
Eku yelped with pleasure when rocks landed hard with a satisfying splat.
Other than their hairy faces, the interlopers were smooth-skinned, like himself.
He counted six.
The bubinzwana roared with powerful voices and shook spears.
Eku was shocked at the thickness of the weapons.
Huge compared to an ula-konto!
Similar to a nesibindi spear, but less straight and more robust.
Eky saw from the lack of straightness, such spears would only serve well for stabbing.
Or clubbing.
More worrisome was how powerful a bubinzwana must be to wield such a weapon.
The Abantu hunters moved en masse from the center area of the encampment.
Due to his height, Kozik stood out in the middle and Eku thought he glimpsed Dokuk, but there were too many bodies and he could not be sure.
The young hunters were divided into groups and remained in disciplined formation with spears and axes.
The bubinzwana screamed ferociously, drawing Eku’s attention back their way.
Several of the young hunters were overeager and let loose with throws of their ula-kontos.
The bubinzwana slapped the speeding ula-konto out of the air easily with their large spears!
Eku was aghast.
Not only were the beasts powerful and agile, but marvelously coordinated!
Even so, pinched between two large groups of axe and spear wielding humans, the bubinzwana were hopelessly outnumbered.
The young hunters arranged for a sustained volley of ula-konto, only to have the beasts suddenly turn and race away, leaping back through the arc of fire pits to climb into the darkness of the rugged talus from which they came.
Stunned, the young hunters can only watch.
Finally, a few catcalls.
An incoherent scream of defiance rang out shrill and loud resulting in the nervous release of laughter.
Mystified, but happy by the bubinzwana’s sudden appearance and disappearance, Eku thought of baboons.
Baboons were fearsome creatures, especially the males, with fangs comparable to a leopard; yet, bloodshed was rare, even when opposing clans crossed paths.
Baboons were well armed for battle and fierce when they actually fought, but cautious when it came to risking injury.
Bluff and bluster were key components to their behavior.
Judging from the volume of noise within the forest, Eku knew there were waka-waka bubinzwana advancing on the floodplain.
Why send so few this way?
***
A shelf of rock protruded at an angle from the incline of the mountain, thrust away by Umawa as though to offer a platform with a view through a gap in the treeline.
The rock outcropping was closer to the bottom of the mountain and an opportune spot to observe the river.
A small group of bubinzwana stopped as the bulk of the horde continued to the floodplain.
Their leader breathed deep and exhaled.
He was pleased.
Watching the river below.
Showing patience that was rare for his kind.
Especially an alpha.
Magnificently muscled, he stood at the edge of the overhang, watching with a handful of other large and impressive bubinzwana.
The clan’s dominant alliance.
They carried spears with blackened, fire hardened tips.
Thanks to the vantage of the overhang, even in the low light, they can see the flat faces gathered like a herd on the perimeter of the camp, as the old male told them to anticipate: the herd that becomes a dangerous predator.
Behind the fires, there were more flat face males with clever weapons.
The alpha watched as they moved quickly and capably when confronting the small group he sent forth.
The young males were not fierce, but had numbers enough to inflict harm with their clever weapons.
The alpha bubinzwana grunted in a positive way and the others grunted back.
Satisfied.
Everything was going according to plan.
The alpha was pleased to have followed the suggestions of the old male.
The old one was clever.
The most clever of them all, by far.
The alpha bubinzwana felt an inexplicable affection for the old male.
When a bubinzwana assumed the dominant position, he often killed his predecessor—even a sibling or the male who sired him, to better establish or maintain an alliance; instead, when the younger replaced the older in nothing more than formal combat, the new alpha and the old male instantly forged an invincible alliance.
The young alpha remembered, after all.
He was just a fledgling when the clan marched across the land of death; one of the few to survive.
He remembered the old male as he was then: awe-inspiring.
The young alpha did not forget it was the old male’s strength and cleverness that allowed their clan to survive the terrible march, when so many others had not.
But that was long ago.
Tonight was the beginning of something new.
The first sneak attack was merely a probe.
A guise.
They exposed where the flat faces were strong.
Now they will show where they are weak.
And then the real fun could start.
The alpha motioned to the dominant alliance that it was time.
***
Upriver from the flat face encampment, the old male led the first group of bubinzwana to separate from the main group.
Led them in a wide arc so as to approach the flat face nest from the upriver direction.
The old male moved with a slight limp.
One shoulder bent lower than the other.
Yet, his muscles remained corded and powerful.
The younger males accompanying him were in awe of the old male; highly motivated to play their part in a critical role.
The old male led them under heavy vegetation.
Eager, but wary.
As always.
Flat faces were clever and prepared for this raid by doing some of the things he should have thought of before they so surprisingly and devastatingly attacked his clan, so long ago.
But now, at last, revenge was nigh.
He and the others carried clubs and daggers only.
Spears were too cumbersome for the task at hand.
The bubinzwana crept behind the barrier the flat faces built to prevent access along the shoreline.
The younger males watched the older male inspect the barricade, while stroking the sabertooth that hung on his chest.
Turned to them and grunted, motioning for the water.
The bank of the river was steep and they slid down and pushed away from shore.
The current, barely noticeable, allowed them to float past the barricade.
The moon was gone.
Stars faded into the black.
Croakers and peepers paid them no heed.
The old male was confident they would not be noticed, especially after the other group pulled the flat faces defending inside the nest to the opposite direction.
Bubinzwana were excellent swimmers.
They paddled smoothly, causing only as much disturbance as was necessary to breathe.
Emerged dripping in pre-dawn darkness.
Before them, the flat face nests were outlined by the light of the fires in the background.
Rounded, like eggs.
Whether prey or predator, the first rule was to protect the little ones.
This was where the flat faces were weak.
They will attack where the youngest are nested.
Kill a few.
Maybe grab some of the smallest to carry back to camp and earn favor with the females.
Such a diversion will cause panic amongst the flat faces acting as a herd that is a predator.
When the outer defense collapsed, the main group would storm through and take the females they wanted.
The clan would then disappear into the mountains before the flat faces realized what happened.
The bubinzwana waded through the shallows without a sound.
Pushed through soft river grass to reach dry ground and charged for the shelters.
***
Though baffled by the bubinzwana’s performance, Eku felt tremendous relief at their retreat.
Now he had to deal with a wave of guilt for disobeying mother.
Hoping that no one noticed all of his sneaking around, Eku crouched and worked back to where he had been sleeping.
Straightened and glanced over the shelter to his left, toward the forest.
Saw the dark outline of the mountain; the shapes of individual trees.
Ulanga was coming.
Would the attack come with him?
Distracted, Eku went past his shelter.
Turned to go back and his eye caught movement.
Froze.
Looking across the domed tops of the shelters, Eku could see dark shapes interrupt the pale margin of river grass.
More bubinzwana!
As though spawned from the river itself, the bubinzwana stepped through the grass to reach soil and charged for the shelters.
The beasts carried bone clubs, surely with cruel intent.
Having a crazy thought that the bubinzwana could swim after all, Eku gathered his breath to yell, but there were already multiple shouts.
At the same time of the shouting, Eku saw movement across the front row of shelters, where once again, waka-waka people remained concealed.
Only now, rising as a virtual wall of figures.
For just an instant, Eku was confused at the peculiar outline, as all of the heads seemed to have something sticking from the top.
Ah!—the Mantel ponytails!
As the bubinzwana charged the Mantel stepped forth and made smooth, synchronous movements; there was the thrum of taut strings released and the bubinzwana began to stagger and yelp, swiping and clutching at their bodies.
For a frantic moment, Eku thought the bubinzwana were sprouting strange and thick hairs only to realize they were being impaled by the tiny spears of the guka-ombe!
More Mantel emerged from the shadow and more taut strings thrummed and the tiny spears flew faster than a speeding insect.
Two of the bubinzwana are so injured they simply fell to the ground.
Two more staggered to their knees.
Despite many tiny spears hanging from its body, a single, giant bubinzwana charged for the shelters.
Eku saw the huge form of uncle Lume rush forward—even bigger than the bubinzwana!
The great, tree-felling ax was in his hands and he delivered such an awful blow there was a gout of blood and the bubinzwana’s head seemed to explode and the beast fell in a heap.
Young izik-kosa rushed from out of hiding and used vicious blows of their wood chopping axes to finish off the remaining bubinzwana, already staggered, having been pierced by so many of the tiny spears.
Stunned and impressed by yet another effective defense, Eku almost missed the large and hunched figure moving away from the battle, toward the upriver barrier of brush.
Possibly another bubinzwana, but Eku could not be sure because he instinctively ducked down at the tremendous escalation of noise behind him.
The horde was attacking!
Everyone was defending but him!
Eku whirled and darted around the closest shelter.
Saw the shape of own rounded shelter and launched himself through the dark, oval entrance.
Tumbling into total black.
Flailing about.
Managing to rise to his knees, Eku was startled by the shrill screech of an ichi-whistle and became tangled in a loose skin and fell over.
Struck his head against something hard and let out a startled, “ouch!”
Another crescendo of roars sent Eku’s heart racing still faster and he reached for what he bumped his head against.
Found a familiar shape and took firm hold of his ula-konto.
***
Bubinzwana streamed out of the forest.
Uta screamed for the nesibindi to retreat.
“To the edge of the encampment,” he cried. “Fall back with me!”
The nesibindi organized themselves into a half ring to block the only avenue into the encampment.
At the same time, young Abantu hunters surged past the arc fires to form another line of defense, behind the nesibindi.
Fear spread like a fire running out of control.
They were going to be overrun by the savage horde.
Everyone knew it.
There was simply no way they could stop this many bubinzwana.
Uta checked the nesibindi closest to him, including his beloved sons Tokuta and Wutota.
He knows they will die to defend the camp, if necessary.
And he knows how much they committed to the inner defense, to forge an impenetrable ring around the children and the young mothers.
That ring of protection will shatter like an egg against the horde.
The horde must be stopped!
Uta saw no more bubinzwana emerged from the forest.
Everyone was on the floodplain now, the two sides massed together, face to face, the outcome hanging in the balance.
Uta roared, “Nesibindi this is where we stand!”
All of the nesibindi went shoulder to shoulder, spears in one hand, axes in the other, crouched low, focused on the approaching bubinzwana.
Seeing everyone ready, Uta took a step back and began blowing an ichi-whistle.
***
On the downriver side of the encampment, where the ridgeline began to rise, ancient boulders lay buried in the talus, amorphous, now mostly covered by soil and vegetation; though, some of the stone still surfaced as lumps of granite.
Such boulders dwarf anything mortal, but were mere detritus to the mighty hills that shrugged them off during the final tremors that formed this land.
Through the erosion of deep time, Umawa has half-swallowed, half-covered the boulders, forming nestled hollows surrounded by thick bushes, perfect cover for the Abantu hunters, all of whom wore two or more talons of the fish eagle on their chest.
Kaleni and Nibamaz kept everyone calm and concealed until the sound of the ichi-whistle, when they burst from cover to rush down the incline and onto the floodplain.
Each hunter was armed with a javelin.
Each hunter paced side by side with his lifelong ikanabe.
Each pair moved with a familiar team.
Eyes well adjusted to the low light, they raced through small palms and grass
Some of the bubinzwana saw them coming and cried out.
Led by the alpha male, a group of the most powerful bubinzwana turned with confidence to meet the surprise attack at their flank.
The alpha, like all of the bubinzwana, believe the momentum of the hunt is in their favor.
The old male was attacking and the herd that was predator was about to collapse.
This was a pathetic diversion, nothing else.
The alpha encouraged a group of strong bubinzwana to go forward and meet the Abantu hunters.
They carried sturdy wooden spears with sharp, fire hardened tips.
They wielded heavy, skull-crushing clubs made from hearty saplings or the leg bones with a heavily knobbed hip joint.
Fearsome weapons, indeed.
But the Abantu javelins are like nothing the bubinzwana have ever encountered.
Weapons originally designed to skewer seals larger than a male lion, each spear was twice as long as the hunter was tall, the haft thick and strong and finished with an extended blade of isipo-igazi, viciously sharp on two sides.
The muscular arm of a bubinzwana cannot bat aside such a weapon.
Even a well-timed blow with a bone club will not deter such a blade.
The Abantu hunters remained silent as they approached.
Not trumpeting like charging elephants.
Not overeager like a roiling mass of aggressive hyenas.
They communicate by clicking only.
Holding the long spears in two-handed grips practiced many times over.
Led by Kaleni, the first team of hunters hammered into the center of the bubinzwana advancing to meet them, javelins poised with deadly consequence.
The weight and momentum of the Abantu hunters sent the terrible blades slicing through forearms, skewering between ribs, severing throats.
Even a misdirected slash to the thigh or stomach tore open a mortal wound.
At the screams of their comrades, more bubinzwana leapt from the main pack to help, only to be cut down by a second team of Abantu hunters, led by Juka and Lopi.
For every hunter who struck with a javelin, a bubinzwana fell.
Making matters worse, the bubinzwana do not understand such tactics.
Not only have they never encountered these weapons, but the flat faces are not attacking like a powerful herd; instead, they attacked as many small packs working in unison, from seemingly every direction at once.
The alpha bubinzwana roared in anger and pushed forward, charging for Kaleni, who struggled to extricate his javelin from a dying bubinzwana.
The alpha raised his club to deliver a killing blow, only to have his breath cut short and turn to a gurgle, choking on his own blood, impaled by his own weight on the javelin of Nibamaz, stepping in to defend Kaleni from exactly such an attack.
When the alpha dropped, the remaining bubinzwana began to panic.
From the edge of the camp Uta roared, “Now we fight like nesibindi!”
Axes were hurled with deadly accuracy and more bubinzwana fell.
Uta and the nesibindi sprang forward to surprise the bubinzwana, viciously stabbing with their short spears.
More bubinzwana fell.
Bubinzwana begin colliding and then tripping in their haste to retreat.
Sprinting and screaming from the encampment to encircle the horde came the young Abantu hunters.
Waka-waka ula-konto flew.
More bubinzwana fell.
The horde became hysterical.
Individuals resorting to base instincts.
Amongst their kind, when a male bubinzwana showed superiority, the defeated offered fealty by dropping weapons and offering supplication with facial expressions and hand gestures.
Such acts of submission were necessary for the rituals of combat that maintain their alliances.
But when the bubinzwana tried to make their appeals at the entrance to the land of legend, the flat faces did not recognize what they were doing.
Nor would they have offered mercy if they had.
The hunters and nesibindi closed on the throng of hopelessly outnumbered bubinzwana.
The javelins, spears and axes were deadly effective and a rout became a slaughter.
***
The old male wanted to hold both hands over his ears.
So that he would no longer hear the sounds of his clan dying.
When his fellow bubinzwana charged from the river to attack the flat face nests, the old male ducked away, headed for the barrier of brush and sticks, thinking that once the main group broke through, he could direct them to the shelters so they could capture females and make a fast getaway.
In the confusion of the shoreside melee, the old male slipped away unseen, only to turn and watch in disbelief as some of the clan’s strongest males were cut down in ways he did not understand.
What was happening?
How did they know to protect along the water?
Instead of panicking, all of the flat faces acted in unison.
Becoming predators.
Somehow.
The old male knew that once again he and the clan had been tricked.
Lured like silly insects into the trap of a deadly spider.
And now the clan was being killed.
Annihilated.
A moan escaped.
No!
—I will not end like this!
The thick knobs of his knuckles turned pale where he gripped the bone club.
Clenched his other fist and began to growl, but quickly squashed the sound in his throat.
Gazed across the flat face encampment.
They still had not discovered him.
The old male took a deep breath.
Tilted his shaggy head back.
Opened his mouth to offer a long and drawn out scream of silent protest to the new day.
Tilted his head back to focus on the flat face encampment.
Gently shook the bone club to feel the sturdiness of its density and weight.
Opened his other fist to stroke the giant fang that hung from his neck.
The old male listened to the flat faces cheer victoriously from outside the encampment.
With nothing left to lose, there were no more boundaries and despair became rage and then fury and then self-immolation.
In blood.
All of the flat-face males with the dangerous weapons had left the nesting area to join in the killing of his clan outside the ring of fires.
And now, even the large females had started to move in that direction.
Away from the nests.
How ironic.
With victory at hand, they finally left their most precious unprotected.
Blended with the early morning shadows of the upriver barrier, the old male remained unseen as he watched the large females continue to move away.
Watched as flat-faced fledglings emerged from the shelters.
A young flat face caught his attention.
Stepping away from the nests.
Female.
Tall, but slender and willowy, more like the adult females of his kind.
A pretty pendant hung between her teats.
Too bad.
She was a good age to have carried away for the young males.
The old male decided to kill her first and then … As many more as possible.
Still able to move swiftly, the old male charged from the shadows.
***
Alas, all of the violence was not over.
Preparation by the tribe was flawless; nevertheless, no matter how carefully the planning, as they learned from young Goguk, there are always consequences.
Krele and Shona were with Kafila and the other mothers who formed the last line of defense around the shelters, which thankfully went unneeded.
Until now.
The triumphant cries of victory from outside the encampment were wonderful to hear.
Responding cries of joy rose from across the encampment.
Relief was spontaneous and emotional with much sobbing and laughter.
Tentative, but excited, the young people emerged from the shelters.
Mothers and benzi-kusela moved through the cluster of huts, encouraging people to come out; in the meantime, Krele was the first of the mothers to head for the perimeter, concerned over injuries to the nesibindi and hunters.
Other mothers followed.
Kafila, who still carried the splendid weapon given to her by Tiuti, was the last to move away.
From the corner of an eye, she caught movement and spun to see the bubinzwana charging from the shadows of the upriver barrier.
Had time to think—this cannot be real?
Victory was at hand!
But then … There was denying that a giant bubinzwana raced from the edge of the camp for the young people at center.
Kafila saw Ingwe and a mother’s anguished cry of horror shredded the air.
Krele and the other mothers spun to see and raised similar, awful sounds of distress.
Meanwhile, the Mantel hunters and izik-kosa were still grouped on the far side of the shelters, along the river.
The juxtaposition told Kafila what was inevitable.
All she and the others could do was try to stop the carnage after it began.
Kafila raised the ax to run back as Krele and the other mothers followed.
***
For the second time that fateful morning, Eku poked his head out of the shelter.
Thinking, at least now I can see.
Still, with all of the shelters pressed together, there was nothing but the weaving of reeds all around.
Rose to his feet.
Felt silly, holding his ula-konto.
Sure, he thought.
With victory at hand, here I am pretending to be a hunter.
Mother was right.
He should have stayed in the shelter the whole time.
Nevertheless, Eku had to admit to a feeling of wonderment.
The triumphant cries that came from outside the encampment were not to be mistaken.
The hunters and nesibindi declaring victory.
Eku remained terribly worried about his father.
After finding his ula-konto, he remained in the hut long enough to listen to the short and fierce battle.
The people won decidedly, no doubt, but hunting dangerous beasts was … Well, dangerous.
There were sure to be injuries.
Out of habit, Eku took his bearings.
There was movement from the shelters all around.
Waka-waka voices, soft and tentative.
Wondered if anyone peeked out during the fighting, like himself.
Felt guilty for disobeying mother, but also proud of his daring and cannot wait to tell Ingwe and Yat and Yathi what he saw.
Especially the part about uncle Lume.
Eku went to his toes to see over the shelters.
A few close-shorn heads, like his own, everyone looking in the same direction.
Thought they looked like meerkats and had to fight down a nervous giggle.
Remembered where Yat said she was going and where Ingwe would be and moved down the row of shelters in that direction.
Oh—wait!
His ula-konto.
He will look silly if others see him carrying it now.
Eku turned to bring the weapon back to the shelter, but then … Why would that be silly?
He was proud of his ula-konto.
For however much longer he was able to keep it.
Eku squeezed past the edge of the next shelter and stepped where he could see across the encampment.
Saw his mother with Shona and Kafila and other mothers, moving outward, toward the perimeter.
No doubt concerned about any wounded.
Took another step, still hesitant to walk out where people could see him when he noticed Kafila stop awkwardly, looking in the direction of the protective barrier.
Too far away to see the expression on her face, the change in posture told Eku that something very bad was happening.
He quickly stepped past the last hut blocking his view.
***
Kafila screamed as Eku spotted Ingwe just a few paces away—while at the same time, from beyond where she stood, from out of the darkened area of the protective barrier, the charge of a monstrous bubinzwana.
Ir-hamka!
Like the vubu that killed Goguk, a nightmare conjured into the real world.
Bulging leg muscles propelled the bearded beast forward.
One hand held a cruel looking bone club, the other was closed in a fist, pumping hard as a heavy pendant bounced off its chest.
Fierce eyes focused on the young people.
Ingwe at the forefront.
Another moment seared into Eku’s mind.
Forever.
His first thought was a move similar to the wounded nesibindi, but he was too far away.
There was only one other thing he could do.
***
The first time Eku told his father that he was going to be a hunter, just like him, Kaleni only smiled.
But after taking a closer look at his child, so small, but so serious, Kaleni told Eku his first and most important lesson.
He told Eku that every hunter one day confronts life and death.
Life and death not just for him and his fellow hunters, but for his family.
And a hunter's survival, and thus the survival of the people he loves most, will depend on learning what other hunters can teach you.
And then—you practice!
In the blink of an eye, Eku charted the path of the charging bubinzwana, swept a glance over the ground before him, adjusted his grip on the ula-konto, dug hard at the dirt of Umawa with his toes and began what he had been practicing waka-waka times.
No, waka-waka-waka times—three step throw with full strides for maximum velocity.
Pushing hard with his right foot, Eku stepped with the left, allowing his mind to interpret the speed and path of the bubinzwana.
Began to raise the ula-konto as his weight surged forward.
Planted and pushed with his left foot and swung the right forward, twisting his torso to pull back his right shoulder, the ula-konto rising to his ear.
Planted hard with the outside of the right foot and arched his back so that for just an instant, the ula-konto was aimed at the early morning sky.
Eku threw his left foot and arm forward while straightening his back and twisting his torso so that all of his strong young body’s energy channeled down his right arm and into the ula-konto that sped along the path his mind had chosen.
The beast was practically on top of Ingwe and raised the club to strike, exposing the ribs and the barbed end of the spear tore through skin and sliced past muscle and splintered against a bone, shattering in a way that sent shards of the blade stabbing deeper into the body to slice across multiple organs.
A mortal injury, for sure, but the bubinzwana was too tough to die quickly.
The bone club flew from the beast’s hand as Ingwe—ever alert and genet-quick—leaped clear with a shrill yelp.
The bubinzwana cartwheeled head over heels, tumbling to a stop directly in front of Eku.
Dirt and pebbles sprayed as the huge beast squirmed violently, struggling to get up and for an instant, Eku wondered what else he could possibly do when Kafila arrived, flying through the air so that for just an instant, she was the incredible bee-eater before slamming on top of the bubinzwana and using her knees to pin down its arms.
Screaming as she raised the ax.
Eku closed his eyes when the blade came down.
Opened them to see the bubinzwana go still, blood spilling down its face.
Dead.
With a high-pitched snarl, Kafila yanked the ax from the beast’s head and threw herself off the body, leaping for Ingwe.
Mother and child clasped in hug and Eku watched the bloody ax slide from Kafila’s hand to the ground.
Kafila fiercely held onto Ingwe, both of them sobbing, but managed to pull her face from her poof enough to motion with the bloody hand and cry, “My child come to me!”
Eku started forward, but then Krele was upon him, gathering Eku into her arms.
Many of the mothers were around them now.
Eku instinctively hugged Krele hard and told her he was all right as she squeezed back, sobbing in relief.
There was much crying and voices shouting for the young people to stay close as izik-kosa and Mantel swarmed.
Strangely, with all of the confusion, all Eku could think of was the way Kafila had just said, my child.
Because, despite the frenzy of what just happened and the oddity of the moment, his heart sang with wini-nesisa, knowing that Ingwe was safe and at last, she belonged to him, just as he belonged to her.
And nothing was ever going to change that.
The battle was over.
The tribe was safe.