You Are What You're Going to Be (cont'd)

You Are What You're Going to Be (cont'd)

       by The Dolly Lamba

A shadow stood before him then. He had not noticed its approach. It became evident as a presence after he knew he had begun to sense it for the past ten minutes.

       "Hello," Davis said. Rogo would not hurt him.

       "You must be ready at the rise of the moon Tuesday next," a light and feathery voice spoke from the shrubbery. Davis felt the presence depart. He did not attempt to call it back nor require of it further knowledge. His prayer had been answered and he would be ready this time.  For once the Jabwairikakapoogooes would feel the terror of a prepared army in their faces.

       The Jabwairikakapoogoos, historians taught, were once their brothers. They came from the same mother and father many, many centuries (or, in their tongue, "cluckclucks") ago.A terrible moment had fallen on them, however, and it concerned the division of a crop of barley ("yumjikum") grown by the eldest son of the territory's ruling family. By rites, he should have shared it with all the locals and especially the bothers in his immediate family. But, being a great lover of barley cider, and this being a rotten year for the crop, as well as knowing that he would not have supply enough to last him the winter and spring, knowing full well of the concomitant great longing and need he would perforce have to endure, rationalizing that this was for the good of all since they would not have to suffer his rampages, rages and thievery, he decided to keep it entirely for himself.

       Resistance blossomed. Rumors began quickly and they abounded. Backbiting plagued the village; one woman would accuse another of looseness of behavior, and she in turn would publically speak of the other's violence towards male children. Heated arguments arose, arms came into play, spears were often shaken and used on occasion. One of the brothers was finally decapitated in the ensuing commotions. The youngest brother, accused, left the family compound, never to return. He relinquished all of his rights and titles and started his own family and village. Over the centuries strife and warring entirely separated the two bands except for the odd sorté to rape and sodomize, and the occasional full scale invasion of the sort anticipated by Davis.

       The next day Davis gathered the men of the village together and explained to them what they must do.

       "Hack, cut slash, bite, stab, smash and gouge when I give you the signal, but not before," he told the officers gathered in the inner sanctum of the warrior's lodge. The solders all had each had one ritual mug of muknuktuk to drink and they knew that when the battle was over and they returned victorious with scalps, heads, hands and feet swinging from their belts that they would be drinking all the muknuktuk they'd want. O, the revels that awaited them and the adoration of the ladies and laddies!

       The soldiers waited next morning early beside the main path, knowing that a forerunner would be sent to investigate if all was calm at the village and clear to attack. Eventually he appeared, approached the defensive wall with stealth, climbed a pingo tree to look over it, observed directly below him through the open window of her bedroom the beautiful Musijipiwanna bathing, and stood there awhile watching her before he remembered to give the signal. He whistled once, the muted puling of a wango stork, and then scooted back down the trail to join his party. He knew on which house he would focus his efforts!

       The Jabwairikakapoogoos ran noiselessly and in the joy of their certain victory. Down the path they came. Around the pingo tree they swarmed, whispering, miming with their hands and pelvises acts of terror against victims. Up the pingo they swarmed at the signal from their chief. In a trice, Davis gave the sign for attack and the Upishivaginie sprang from their blinds and moved silently toward the enemy. In the dark they mingled with the men waiting to climb onto the wall and began stabbing, hacking, cutting and slicing with weapons made of hardwood. The screams of dying Jabwairikakapoogoo filled the night. It was then that the Upishivaginie women and children came to assist in the killings for they remembered the many times they, too, had been abused and killed by these same soldiers. With hacks and hoes and spears of ironwood they mutilated those wounded and unable to fight.

       Not one soldier escaped. Many were taken prisoner. These were held in a prison of bamboo and fed one at a time, one each day, to the lioness caged in the centre of the village square. One hundred and twenty-seven men in all found it to their advantage to try to die quickly under her paws when his day arrived. Never again would the Jabwairikakapoogoos dare attack the Upishivaginies Davis announced to the public in celebrations following the victory. Those horrible days were over and done with he predicted.

       Davis waited the prescribed seven days before entering Rogo's tent. A god does not wish to be spoken to immediately after such carnage. But the day of thanksgiving came. Davis crawled backwards into the tent, stood up, knelt, prayed with quiet sincerity, curtsied, and left with his head bowed. Ripe with light, the moon once more looked down on him.  A dugout canoe rocked empty in the current by the shore. Across the river a lioness roared her satiety. She had hunted and would not eat again for two days. In the robungi thicket to his right Davis sensed a shadow standing but he did not address it. Instead, he lit his pipe and stood watching the river turn and slide. He felt like roaring back.    

 You Are What You're Going to Be (cont'd)

       by The Dolly Lamba

A shadow stood before him then. He had not noticed its approach. It became evident as a presence after he knew he had begun to sense it for the past ten minutes.

       "Hello," Davis said. Rogo would not hurt him.

       "You must be ready at the rise of the moon Tuesday next," a light and feathery voice spoke from the shrubbery. Davis felt the presence depart. He did not attempt to call it back nor require of it further knowledge. His prayer had been answered and he would be ready this time.  For once the Jabwairikakapoogooes would feel the terror of a prepared army in their faces.

       The Jabwairikakapoogoos, historians taught, were once their brothers. They came from the same mother and father many, many centuries (or, in their tongue, "cluckclucks") ago.A terrible moment had fallen on them, however, and it concerned the division of a crop of barley ("yumjikum") grown by the eldest son of the territory's ruling family. By rites, he should have shared it with all the locals and especially the bothers in his immediate family. But, being a great lover of barley cider, and this being a rotten year for the crop, as well as knowing that he would not have supply enough to last him the winter and spring, knowing full well of the concomitant great longing and need he would perforce have to endure, rationalizing that this was for the good of all since they would not have to suffer his rampages, rages and thievery, he decided to keep it entirely for himself.

       Resistance blossomed. Rumors began quickly and they abounded. Backbiting plagued the village; one woman would accuse another of looseness of behavior, and she in turn would publically speak of the other's violence towards male children. Heated arguments arose, arms came into play, spears were often shaken and used on occasion. One of the brothers was finally decapitated in the ensuing commotions. The youngest brother, accused, left the family compound, never to return. He relinquished all of his rights and titles and started his own family and village. Over the centuries strife and warring entirely separated the two bands except for the odd sorté to rape and sodomize, and the occasional full scale invasion of the sort anticipated by Davis.

       The next day Davis gathered the men of the village together and explained to them what they must do.

       "Hack, cut slash, bite, stab, smash and gouge when I give you the signal, but not before," he told the officers gathered in the inner sanctum of the warrior's lodge. The solders all had each had one ritual mug of muknuktuk to drink and they knew that when the battle was over and they returned victorious with scalps, heads, hands and feet swinging from their belts that they would be drinking all the muknuktuk they'd want. O, the revels that awaited them and the adoration of the ladies and laddies!

       The soldiers waited next morning early beside the main path, knowing that a forerunner would be sent to investigate if all was calm at the village and clear to attack. Eventually he appeared, approached the defensive wall with stealth, climbed a pingo tree to look over it, observed directly below him through the open window of her bedroom the beautiful Musijipiwanna bathing, and stood there awhile watching her before he remembered to give the signal. He whistled once, the muted puling of a wango stork, and then scooted back down the trail to join his party. He knew on which house he would focus his efforts!

       The Jabwairikakapoogoos ran noiselessly and in the joy of their certain victory. Down the path they came. Around the pingo tree they swarmed, whispering, miming with their hands and pelvises acts of terror against victims. Up the pingo they climbed at the signal from their chief. In a trice, Davis gave the sign for attack and the Upishivaginie sprang from their blinds and moved silently toward the enemy. In the dark they mingled with the men waiting below the wall and began stabbing, hacking, cutting and slicing with weapons made of hardwood. The screams of dying Jabwairikakapoogoo filled the night. It was then that the Upishivaginie women and children came to assist in the killings for they remembered the many times they, too, had been abused and killed by these same soldiers. With hacks and hoes and spears of ironwood they mutilated those wounded and unable to fight.

       Not one soldier escaped. Many were taken prisoner. These were held in a prison of bamboo and fed one at a time, one each day, to the lioness caged in the centre of the village square. One hundred and twenty-seven men in all found it to their advantage to try to die quickly under her paws when his day arrived. Never again would the Jabwairikakapoogoos dare attack the Upishivaginies Davis announced to the public in celebrations following the victory. Those horrible days were over and done with he predicted.

       Davis waited the prescribed seven days before entering Rogo's tent. A god does not wish to be spoken to immediately after such carnage. But the day of thanksgiving came. Davis crawled backwards into the tent, stood up, knelt, prayed with quiet sincerity, curtsied, and left with his head bowed. Ripe with light, the moon once more looked down on him.  A dugout canoe rocked empty in the current by the shore. Across the river a lioness roared her satiety. She had hunted and would not eat again for two days. In the robungi thicket to his right Davis sensed a shadow standing but he did not address it. Instead, he lit his pipe and stood watching the river turn and slide. He felt like roaring back.