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“Bloody drongos,” Wallace
growled. “I could’ve
ended up looking like a bloody pincushion.”
The Daygana warriors escorting him ignored
his angry words, not understanding them in the
slightest. It did not make him
feel any better about his latest
adventure. He blamed Churba for
the near death experience, a situation not improved by the fact that the
warrior seemed to have completely
disappeared. He began to believe
that the Daygana warrior had set him up.
It had been a very near
thing. Once it had become clear
that he was the only person the enemy warriors were throwing at he had done
something that in retrospect seemed incredibly
foolish. Angry to the point of
stupidity, he had grabbed up a spear in each hand and run screaming toward
the other side.
His impromptu attack had attracted a lot of
spears, all of which passed harmlessly over his
head. It also had the effect
of completely panicking the other side.
Probably it was the fact that none of the enemy had ever seen a
six-foot-four, white-skinned, blonde-haired demon charging toward them. In
any case they broke and ran, something that was unprecedented in Daygana
history.
He now returned surrounded by grinning, chanting
warriors. He wondered how Judy
would react to his newfound fame.
He strode into the middle of the camp looking for the pretty blonde
nurse, but he found to his surprise that she was not
there.
Unable to speak more than a few words of Daygana
he used sign language to make himself
understood. The women he communicated
with eventually gave him one word “Churba,” and pointed to the
forest.
Wallace had a bad feeling as he headed in
the direction he had been given.
Outside the palisade he picked up a trail through the forest, and
not knowing of anything better he followed
it. “Come on, Jude,”
he muttered. “Where are
you?”
Judy watched the forward movement of
Churba’s arm and gasped in stunned amazement as the spear he had directed
toward her flew by her head, brushing her hair as it
passed. She couldn’t believe
that he had missed, but somehow he had.
And then she saw why.
Wallace stood in the
trail. She had never seen
anyone’s face look like that.
Then she realized that just before Churba’s arm had moved forward
there had been a loud noise. She
recognized that Wallace had shouted at Churba just as he had thrown, distracting
him just enough, but now the angry warrior was turned toward
Wallace. From a thong at his
waist he took a knife and launched himself toward the defenceless
Aussie.
This time Judy almost turned her gaze
away. She was certain Wallace
was facing his death. She need
not have worried. Wallace deflected
Churba’s attempt to stab him by deflecting his arm with his left
wrist. Then he drove his massive
fist directly into the smaller man’s
face.
There was an ugly smack, like the sound of
steak being hit with a meat tenderizer, and Churba’s feet literally
left the ground. The Daygana
warrior made no move to get up when he hit the
ground.
Judy sagged when Wallace used the knife to
cut her free. He lay her on the
ground and bent over her. She
remembered seeing Wallace’s face flicker in fear and then anger as he
saw what Churba had done to her and then the reaction to her ordeal set in
and she fainted.
When she came to she was in Wallace’s
arms. He was carrying her toward
the village, but that fact was eclipsed by the amount of pain she was
in. Her breasts were wrapped
in strips of cloth that she recognized as parts of the shirt that Wallace
had given her. They hurt like
hell, but not as much as they had when Churba had shoved the thorns into
them. She knew that Wallace must
have removed them and then bandaged her
breasts. Strangely the fact that
Wallace must have touched her breasts didn’t bother her at
all. What did bother her was
what Churba might be up to.
“Churba,” she
gasped. She was surprised at
how weak her voice was, but Wallace heard
her.
“Don’t worry about that
drongo. He’s going to be
too busy trying to find his nuts to bother
us.”
Judy wasn’t sure what Wallace meant by
that remark, but she relaxed and let him carry
her. He took her to the central
hut of the village. They were
accompanied by what seemed to Judy to be every person in the Daygana
village.
Inside the hut he placed her on the crude
bed that she had occupied and sat down beside
her. She tried to say something,
but he lay his finger on her lips.
“No worries now, Jude,” he
said. “I’m not leaving
you.”
Judy lay back, closed her eyes, and
slept.
When Judy awoke she noticed that her crude
bandages were gone, as was Wallace.
Replacing the former was a compress composed of leaves of some rainforest
plant, and replacing the latter were two Daygana
women. Judy had to admit that
she was a little disappointed at Wallace’s absence; after all he had
promised he would stay with her.
However, the attentions of the women were
welcome. Seeing that she was
awake, they helped her sit up and spooned some food into her.
She became aware of a loud noise from somewhere
in the village. She identified
it as a rhythmic chanting and wondered what it
signified. After what had been
done to her she was somewhat
apprehensive. She was reminded
that if the Daygana chose to turn on them, she and Wallace would not stand
and chance.
The chanting increased in volume until it
became clear that every man in the village must be participating in whatever
ritual was taking place. She
was somewhat reassured by the fact that the two women who were with her seemed
quite unconcerned by what was going on and so she settled down to wait, not
that she had much choice about the matter.
The chanting seemed to rise to a climax and
then died down. It was replaced
by a low murmuring as of many people talking and then the sound of laughter
and shouting moving toward her.
The noise increased and it became obvious
that a great mob of people were headed toward her
hut. She peered anxiously toward
the doorway and then flinched back as a monstrous figure blocked out the
light.
Judy cringed and then her mouth opened in
surprise as the figure spoke.
“Hi, Jude. Glad to
see you’re right again. Look
at me I’m a Daygana.”
Wallace was covered from head to foot in black
mud and his blonde hair and scruffy beard spiked out into sharp
points. His face was streaked
with red and yellow clay, as was a good deal of the rest of his
body. His earlobes and the septum
of his nose had been pierced with small bones, Daygana style, and he wore
a garland of woven liana vines about his neck and
brow. He was holding a small
mat in front of him which Judy could not help noticing exactly concealed
his groin.
Wallace noted the direction of his
gaze. “I’m as bare
as a newborn possum. Part of
the ritual.”
“You’re now a Daygana?” Judy
gasped incredulously. She looked
at his piercings.
“Fair dinkum,” Wallace responded,
a huge grim splitting his mud-darkened
features. “The decorations
aren’t much. Reckon
they’ll heal once we’re out of
this. Anyway this is a great
honour. I reckon I’m the
only stranger ever to become a Daygana rather than having his head
shrunk.”
Judy grinned then remembered that except for
the leaves covering her breasts she was entirely
nude. She flushed in
embarrassment.
Wallace grinned even
wider. “Reckon I’ll
leave you to get decent. My trousers
are back at the main gate.
I’ll put them on once I’m
allowed. Far as I can figure
I’m supposed to wear this stuff until the party’s
over.”
“Party?” Judy asked, her right hand
going to her loins.
“Right.
The Daygana slaughtered ten pigs.
There’ll be a big chow down tonight, no doubt with lots of dancing
and drinking.”
“Drinking?”
Judy wished she didn’t sound so stupid and that Wallace would
leave so she could cover herself.
“Right, the women are working on some
sort of brew. Oh by the
way. I had one of them make
this.”
Judy’s eyes widened slightly as Wallace
held up a grass skirt.
“Thanks,” she said, holding out her
hand. “You didn’t come
up with a top did you?”
“Working on it,” he
grinned. “Rest
up. I’ll be back later to
see how you are.” He turned
and headed out of the hut. Judy
watched him until he disappeared and then lay back, a smile on her
face.
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