Bunduki (Bunduki Series Book One) (2 page)

And not just
any
bow!

It was Bunduki’s own, produced to his
specifications by the Bear Archery Division of Grayling, Michigan.
Sixty inches long, it was a black Super Kodiak with fiberglass
limbs that gave a draw of one hundred pounds. Attached to its right
side was a bow-quiver holding eight arrows. Their buff colored
fiberglass shafts told him that each had a Bear Four-Blade
Razorhead hunting point.

The same applied to the
fourteen arrows in the leather back-quiver that was hanging
alongside the bow. All were equipped with hunting heads. There was
not one of the type he used when catching animals alive for
examination. Out of curiosity, he opened the pouch on the front of
the quiver. He found that it held the stone which he used for
keeping exceptionally sharp edges on the points of his hunting
arrows. There were also
six
new, double-loop, braided black Dacron bowstrings.
While he always carried the stone, he could not recollect having
put the spare strings in the pouch.

Nor, if it came to that, had he been
carrying his archery equipment with him when he and his adoptive
cousin had set off on the fateful patrol.

Where is Dawn?

The question returned to take
precedence over all others.

Compared with the very deep concern
that Bunduki was experiencing over his adoptive cousins welfare,
the strange situation in which he found himself was of minor
importance.

Slowly, but inexorably, a thought
began to creep into Bunduki’s mind. It refused to be ignored and
suggested that Dawn had been rescued in that same unexplained,
practically miraculous fashion as himself. Not only that. She was
somewhere to the northwest—taking the position of the sun as an aid
to compass directions—alive, uninjured—but possibly in great
danger!

Bunduki was at a loss to explain the
reason for the feeling that he was experiencing. Certainly it was
something completely outside all his previous knowledge and nothing
like it had ever happened to him before. He could not shake off the
compulsion to go and investigate the validity of the
thought.

Nor did he try to do so.

Dawn was alive and might be in
peril!

Bunduki needed to know no more than
that!

For the time being, nothing else
mattered!

How the rescue had been performed, by
whom, for what purpose—the way in which he was dressed and armed
implied that it was probably for more than reasons of humanity—even
where Dawn and he had been transported, all faded into
unimportance.

Dawn was not dead!

So Bunduki must go and find
her!

Once they were reunited, they could
try to discover the answers to the questions which must be plaguing
her as well as himself.

Taking down the quiver, Bunduki
swung its strap over his head and settled it on his back so that
the arrows would be readily accessible to his gloved hand as it
reached over his right shoulder. Then he lifted the immensely
powerful, recurved
^iv
hunting bow from
the branch. It was already strung, which suggested that whoever had
rescued him must have considerable knowledge of archery. Even a new
string had been fitted. Never had the smooth, carefully contoured
hardwood of the handle-riser felt so comforting as when his left
thumb and forefinger enfolded it.

No matter who, or what, Bunduki’s
saviors proved to be, he considered that they had given him
adequate means of survival in any kind of jungle that he had ever
seen. It was almost as if they had known his skills and
capabilities, and had supplied him with what, in his case, were the
basic necessities to stay alive.

Standing on the crotch, Bunduki looked
ideally suited to meet the challenge of his surroundings. Six-foot
three-inches in height, he had blond hair taken straight back and a
tanned, exceptionally handsome face. While his blue eyes could
twinkle with merriment, they were at that moment as cold and
chilling as a June sky just before a storm. He had a tremendous
spread to his shoulders, with massive biceps and forearms to match.
His bronzed torso slimmed down at the waist, with the stomach
ridged by cords of powerful muscles, then spread to long legs that
were so well developed that they could carry his two hundred and
twenty pounds weight with a light-footed and effortless-seeming
agility.

For all his great size and enormous
strength, Bunduki could have come close to world record class as a
sprinter, long distance runner, swimmer and gymnast. There was,
however, more than sheer physical prowess to his makeup. Most of
his education and upbringing had been a superb preparation for
whatever might lie ahead.

Having learned that a gang of
Mau Mau terrorists were planning to attack their friend Major Roger
Gunn’s farm, Lord Greystoke, his son, Sir Paul John Clayton—Clayton
being the Greystoke’s family name—adopted son, Sir John
Drummond-Clayton and his son, Armand
John Drummond-Clayton,
^v
had rushed to the rescue.
Unfortunately, by the time they had arrived, Major Gunn and his
wife had been murdered. Bunduki, then only three years old, had
been saved by a loyal servant. With her usual compassion, Lady Jane
Greystoke had adopted the orphan and he was raised as one of their
family.

During the years which had
followed, Bunduki was given a very thorough formal and practical
education. However, he had become disenchanted with the so-called
permissive society in England. So, instead of entering a university
after he had left Eton, he had returned to Kenya. From there, he
had accompanied Lord Greystoke, Sir Paul, Sir John and Armand
Drummond-Clayton on the various expeditions—which had taken them
into many primitive parts of the world—undertaken on behalf of
bodies like the International Union
for Conservation and Natural
Resources.

While travelling and when at
home on the Greystokes’ property in Kenya, even before leaving
school, Bunduki had gained a vast amount of experience in a variety
of subjects. In his hands, the Smithsonian bowie knife was an even
more effective weapon than James Bowie had found the original to
be. Armand had taught him the techniques employed by British
Commandos, American Rangers and European resistance fighters in
World War II, but which had been unknown in Bowie’s day. With his
bow and arrows he had performed many of the feats attributed to
Robin Hood. Although his mysterious rescuers had not provided him
with either, he could handle an
assegai
—short, stabbing spear—and shield like a
Zulu warrior, or hurl a
mkuki
—long, throwing spear—as well as any Masai or
Samburu
moran.
^vi
His instructor,
Muviro, chief of the Waziri—who had served with members of all
three nations in the Kings African Rifles and had learned their
fighting arts—had also taught him the use of a
simi
^vii
,
battle-axe and war club. He was also well
versed in boxing,
judo, karate
and plain, old-fashioned roughhouse
brawling.

From the male members of his adopted
family, experts all, Bunduki had learned to read tracks that were
barely discernible to less skilled eyes. He had been taught how to
move as silently as any great cat, even through thick undergrowth.
He also knew much about animals; how to hunt them for food when
necessary, or how to avoid becoming a meal for a
predator.

So a jungle, even such a one as he
awoke to find himself in, held no terrors for a man who had been
raised by John Clayton, Lord Greystoke—who was far better known as
Tarzan of the Apes.

Looking at his weapons, Bunduki
hoped that his unknown rescuers had equipped his adoptive cousin at
least as well. Given her Ben Pearson Marauder Take-Down hunting
bow—custom built to a draw weight of seventy pounds—a supply of
arrows and the Randall Model 1 Fighting knife which he had brought
her as a Christmas present, Dawn could feed and, to a certain
extent, protect herself until he could find her. The blood of Sir
John and Lady Meriem Drummond-Clayton flowed through her veins and
their jungle knowledge was bettered only by that of Lord and Lady
Greystoke.
^viii
Always a tomboy, Dawn had been on
several of the family’s expeditions before taking up her post at
the University of Ambagasali and was capable of taking care of
herself.

Eager as the blond giant might be to
commence his search for Dawn, he was too wise to set about it in a
hurried or impatient manner. The rash and incautious did not
survive for long in a jungle. His every instinct warned him that
the rule might apply even more strongly in his present situation.
He was in a strange and unfamiliar type of country.

Just
how
strange, he could not yet say.

Seeing the red howler monkeys had
suggested that he was no longer in Africa. Yet it was impossible
for him to be anywhere else. He realized, however, that under the
circumstances, he could not be sure of what was—or was
not—possible.

He should not be dressed in the
leopard skin loincloth. The big knife could have been hanging on
his belt as he always carried it when on patrol, but the bow and
arrows should have been locked in his study at the Wild Life
Reserve’s Headquarters.

So what was the answer?

Had Dawn and he been snatched from
certain death and, in some equally miraculous manner, been
transported without their knowledge to the jungles of South
America?

If so, why had it been done and who
could have had the technical knowledge and equipment capable of
doing it?

Even while thinking on those lines,
Bunduki became conscious of the sensation of being watched.
Instantly, he grew alert and started to search for the
watcher.

There was a movement in an adjacent
tree. Reaching for his bow, the blond giant turned his head to make
a closer study. What he saw brought an even more puzzled frown to
his face. He found himself looking at a predatory animal, but it
was over thirty yards away and not a source of danger. The surprise
came from a different reason. While the creature was feline, it was
not—as might have been expected in a jungle that had red howler
monkeys—a jaguar, mountain lion or ocelot. An ashy-gray in color,
its short-legged body was dappled with large, deeper grey areas
which enclosed small dark spots and its tail looked long in
proportion to its build.

As if becoming aware that it
had been seen, the animal turned and darted away through the
branches with as much ease and as swift as if it had been on the
ground. That was, Bunduki realized, hardly surprising.
Neofelis
nebulosa,
the clouded leopard, was arboreal by nature and only rarely
descended to the ground. However, there were no clouded leopards in
Africa, or South America. They were only found in the jungles of
the East Indies and South-East Asia.

After continuing with what
proved to be an abortive search for the watcher, whom he felt sure
still had him under observation, Bunduki thrust the question, along
with the puzzle of a jungle that held red howler monkeys
and
clouded leopards,
from his mind. In the former case, he was willing to let the
watcher take the initiative in making a closer acquaintance. The
incessant inner suggestion that Dawn was somewhere to the
north-west was too urgent for him to waste time on less vital
considerations.

There was, Bunduki suddenly
realized, one way in which he might learn of Dawn’s exact
whereabouts. Although the
Mangani
^ix
—
with whom Lord Greystoke had lived until
young manhood
^x
, following the
death of his parents while he was still a baby—had become extinct
in the early 1950s, Tarzan and his family had made use of their
calls as a means of signaling to each other. Some acoustic quality
in the vocal range of the
Mangani
allowed the sounds to carry for vast distances
through a jungle. So, even if Dawn was beyond the range of a human
voice, the challenge of a bull
Mangani
—being the farthest carrying of the calls,
as it was issued to give a warning of territorial rights—might
reach her. If she heard it, she would be able to identify his voice
and would know that he was looking for her.

Filling his lungs, Bunduki flung back
his head and thundered out the awesome, roaring call. Twice more,
with an unabated volume, he sent the challenge echoing through the
jungle. Then he listened hopefully. A small flock of greater
curassows which were feeding at the foot of the tree took off and
flapped hurriedly away. Nearby, a black rhinoceros lurched up from
where it had been sleeping and, with an explosive snort, crashed
away through the undergrowth. Not far away, in another direction,
what could only be a tiger gave its throaty roar in answer to the
challenge. At a greater distance, elephants began to trumpet their
defiance.