Amazons in the Treehouse

by Gemini Explorer

Amazon princesses Phoebe and Laralei visit. They enjoy shooting pistols and learn a new way to fish. Challenger is attacked by a boa constrictor, causing Finn to feel guilty that she didn't respond as well as Ned did. Vee accepts Ned's having fathered Phoebe's child, and Phoebe embraces Finn as her descendant. Will the Treehouse crew now find themselves allies of the Amazons?

This story is a sequel to, The Amazon Revelations, also posted here. It would be best to read that tale to understand this one. And one should certainly view the, "Amazons" episode of TLW as a prelude. However, not having the TV show's budget limitations, I've portrayed Amazonia as being more refined and opulent than the show did.

The critical reader who feels that some of my fics include too much about lingerie and have too many "Americanisms" may roll his eyes and find something else to read. Others will see more merit here, I hope. The story does reveal the closeness of the Treehouse crew and provides added insight into the Princesses of Amazonia and of Pharsalia from my Revelations account, and Challenger has a dangerous adventure with a boa constrictor that shames Finn as Ned Malone reacts faster and saves George before she can.

As in my other fics, there are three couples in the Treehouse. The Roxtons and the Malones will surprise no one, and I got Challenger together with Finn, who will eventually marry him after they discover the death of Jessie Challenger. See, A Wedding at Avebury for that story. And please do read, Challenger's Birthday to see why Finn fell for Challenger. Their connection is for emotional and practical reasons, and they mostly disregard the age difference, apart from her desire for a father figure and mentor. Her poignant explanation of their love to Veronica in the fic just noted will explain that union and tell much about Finn's troubled earlier life.

As with most of my stories, this one is intended for adult audiences. It isn't especially explicit, but does contain some scenes of characters in bed together and a naughty word or two. It is therefore Rated as Mature.

This is for Anna Karolina, who requested it. I believe that she's my only reader from the nation of Georgia. These fics are now read in some 50 countries!

Amazons in the Treehouse

by

Gemini Explorer

Phoebe, Crown Princess of Amazons, stirred in her guest bed in the Treehouse. A narrow shaft of sunlight slipped between the slats of the blinds in the room which she shared with her cousin and second in line of succession, Laralei, Princess of Pharsalia. (Pharsalia was the largest division of all Amazonia, save for the capital zone, ruled by Phoebe's regal mother, Selena, Queen of Amazons.)

The light played over her blonde hair and fair features, tickling her closed eyes until she peeked. Sure enough, the sun was up and a new day had begun in this jungle. Paradise to some, hell to others, it was here that the princesses had come to visit after they and their Treehouse friends had defeated the cannibals who had for so long been a threat to her own land.

The Royal beauty decided to pretend to herself that she was not yet awake. Although she had slept well, she was weary from the long trek from her own palace to this rustic treehouse, where her new friends dwelt much as if they were a family.

And she had recently learned that, to her, one of them WAS truly family, a descendant. Her great, great, granddaughter! Alive in her own time! And Finn was actually a year older than was Phoebe, in present time!

She lay thoughtfully, digesting this information, afraid to believe it, afraid not to believe.

The great scientist who was betrothed to this girl had conducted blood tests on her (Phoebe) and on his woman, Nicole Elizabeth Finnegan, called Finn by their friends. And Finn was almost certainly of Phoebe's and Selena's own blood!

How astonishing! Such a thing was unheard of! Yet, all here had assured the Amazon Royals that Finn was from the future, when no Amazon empire existed...also very strange, if true.

She struggled to put this knowledge into context, finally stretching as she yawned and prepared to admit to herself that she was in fact awake.

"Cousin!" she called across the room to her other relative, Princess Laralei, ruler of Pharsalia.

"I'm not here, Phoebe; you just think I am," that lady replied. "I'm really somewhere in Dreamland. Wake me when the sun is up, not before."

"Laralei," protested the senior princess, "the sun IS up. It got into my eyes, which is why I am up. It is time for YOU to also be up."

"Pull the pillow over your eyes and pretend that it's still dark," mumbled Laralei. "If we were at home and your personal slave woke you at this hour, you would have her whipped."

Phoebe considered this. "Maybe if I was in a really bad mood. Probably, I'd just have her come back in an hour. Laralei, our hosts will be knocking on the door soon!"

"S'all right," mumbled Laralei. "It's a sturdy door; good, strong wood."

Phoebe got out of bed, tossing back the white sheet and the light, colorful blanket of Zanga Indian design. She looked down and found her slippers, leather sandals really. They were a gift from her primary hostess, Veronica Layton, whose parents had built this house high in the boughs of a jungle giant. She buckled the sandals, liking the way they felt on her feet.

She stumbled over to the other bed, wearing pink bra and panties of a style that would not otherwise be seen for nearly 40 years, with refinements beyond that time. But Finn designed them here, with her close friend Marguerite Krux, and they were sewn by Veronica with lace trim hand sewn by Marguerite. Like the sandals, the lingerie was a gift, several sets provided to each princess.

Phoebe pulled back the covers from Laralei, who yelped and said something quite unladylike. As first cousin of the Crown Princess, she was allowed certain liberties not accorded to most girls of her realm.

Hounded awake, Laralei finally sat up and yawned. She staggered from bed and stumbled to the window, clad in a pleated short lavender gown from home.

Opening the blinds, she gasped as strong light flooded into the room. "Okay, I'm awake NOW!" she complained.

"Sit here and let's discuss what to expect from today." Phoebe patted the mattress next to her.

Laralei sat by her regal cousin. "Phoebe, are we safe here, truly? Can we trust these people?" She took Phoebe's hand.

"I think we will be safe. Veronica has not embraced our life for some years, but she is known to us, and she is an honest person. I like her man, too, Ned Malone. He seems very kind and he is handsome, if rather short."

Laralei laughed. "You certainly found him handsome enough about three years ago. You have a daughter by him to prove that!"

Phoebe blushed. "Yes, a daughter whom I cherish. But he is now in love with Veronica, and I will not challenge their union. As Crown Princess, I may not marry. I can find others among the Men to slake my lust. I had rather have the Malones as friends."

"What of the others? This brilliant man, Challenger, and your own flesh, to whom he is engaged? I sense that they, too, are as they seem. I like them, and the English couple, especially Lord Roxton."

Phoebe laughed. "Yes, many girls surely like Lord Roxton. I can see why our friend Hippolyta thought to take him from Marguerite. But she was wise to desist: Roxton loves that brunette wench. You can see it in their faces, the way they touch and move. They are as one. And our relative who looks so very much like me and her scientist hero are also deeply committed. I think these are good people. We are in safe hands."

Veronica knocked on the door. "Princess Phoebe? Laralei? Rise and shine. The sun has!"

Laralei stumbled to the wash basin and freshened herself, then brushed her long blonde hair. Phoebe opened the door a crack and conferred with their hostess.

When she turned back, Laralei slipped off the short gown and stood examining herself in the full length mirror mounted on the back of the door. Playing with her hair, she asked her cousin and best friend how she looked. Phoebe rolled her eyes, told her that she was the perfect example of what men dreamed of in their fantasies, and told her to get some clothes on. "I'm hungry. They will soon announce breakfast."

Laralei sauntered over to her dresser and selected lingerie similar to Phoebe's, but in a beautiful shade of yellow. The panties were different, a thong/tanga sort, and Laralei pivoted, asking Phoebe's opinion. She returned to the mirror.

"Have I got this garment on right?"

Assured that she had and that she looked very erotic and attractive in it, Laralei selected an outfit resembling Veronica's own. Dressed in it, she could pass for Veronica at a distance. The clothes that Phoebe was pulling on, in turn, made her look like Finn's twin sister. So clad, either could seem as if she was one of their hostesses. Their identity and the object of their visit might not be revealed to strangers in this jungle, far from their home on the Plains of Aphrodite.

"What did Veronica say? What's first on today's agenda?"

Laralei finished brushing her hair, which reached over halfway to her waist. She turned to Phoebe with yellow cords in her hand and asked Phoebe to tie her hair in a long ponytail, bound at the top and again three inches from the end, to keep it from getting caught in anything.

"Breakfast," answered her cousin. "And it's almost ready. I told you that the sun had risen, and so have our hosts."

Laralei took out a pair of gold loop earrings like those favored by Finn. She blushed and said, "Phoebe, don't you dare tell anyone at home, but I'm wearing these today. I like the way I look in them." And she installed the hoops, which measured about an inch across. She also had a larger pair, but these would be better for getting around in a jungle.

Phoebe took out an identical pair and put them in her own ear lobes. "There, Cousin. Feel safe in your secret. I also wear these tantalizing things." The issue was that this style of earring was considered to be fit only for slave girls in their own society, and by the neighboring male tribe, known simply as the Men. One thing that the Men did on reducing an attractive female to slavery was to force her to wear such earrings. They were thought to be too erotic for wear by respectable free women. Even when a slave was allowed brief clothing, such earrings marked her as a bond girl, as surely as did the collar on her neck. Wearing them made Phoebe and Laralei feel very desirable and aware of themselves as women. And it would hardly lead an informed observer to think that they were really Amazon royalty!

Finally primped and ready, each girl belted on a knife like those carried by their male hosts and Finn, whose had been made for her by Lord Roxton. (He had later made similar knives for the other women, Marguerite's being especially elegant with a silver-mounted handle of dinosaur bone. However, they sometimes substituted American-made Marble's and Remington knives recovered from supplies left by a perished expedition. Which they carried was determined by their mood of the day. They loved having choices.) Phoebe opened the door and the two Royals went downstairs to see how their new friends looked.

"You look nice, Laralei," commented Phoebe.

"Thank you, Phoebe," she replied, "and so do you. Stay away from Prof Challenger, though, or he may kiss you instead of Finn. The resemblance is uncanny!"

"Then, at least my identity is hidden from prying eyes," commented the elder princess. "Who knows what the Zanga savages and other strangers might do if they knew how ill protected we are here?"

They went downstairs, wary, wondering what this day would bring.

XXX

They heard activity in the kitchen, and then Marguerite Krux stepped out with a tray of whole wheat biscuits, which she set on a mat on the long dining table.

She ran admiring fingers along the smooth, fancy grained rosewood table that the men had made the previous year, then registered the approaching Amazons in her peripheral vision, and looked up at them.

"Your Royal Highnesses!" she exclaimed,. "Welcome to breakfast at our humble abode."

Phoebe had a sense of humor very like Finn's in some respects, and she knew Marguerite's reputation in the kitchen, about which she was sometimes teased.

"Kruxlahoo!" she exclaimed in mock horror. "Are you cooking? Are we in grave peril?" She laughed to show that she was joking. Laralei smiled broadly, too.

Marguerite flushed." I'll thank you not to pick up the bad habits of our domestic blondes," she bristled. "I have to take that from my virtual sisters, but I have done you no wrong, I believe." But she smiled, in spite of herself, happy to be accepted by their new friends.

Veronica came out and said, "Not to worry, as my Limey friends say. I'm keeping an eye on Kruxlahoo here, and she has really gotten to be a pretty good cook lately. Just goes to show that determination can overcome great natural limitations." She grinned at the hapless Marguerite.

Marguerite struck back. "It's bad enough being surrounded by blondes. At least, treat me with some dignity. You know how hard it was for me to even learn to boil water."

Ned Malone appeared from where he had been making coffee. Marguerite pointed to him and said, "See? Even the only man up yet is blond. What chance have I, a rare and desirable brunette, in this vast blonde conspiracy?"

Veronica hugged her. "Marguerite, we love you, and if we have to have a token brunette, it may as well be you. After all, you sew better than any of us blondes."

"You girls slay me with this blonde vs. brunette stuff," chided Malone. "Can't we all just get along?"

"It would help if the coffee is ready," remarked Miss Krux. "If I have coffee, I have life. A day without coffee is like a day without the sun."

"Coming up, almost ready," said Ned. "Princesses, will you sit next to me and Veronica, or would you like to have seats of honor at the ends of the table?"

Normally, Malone sat at one end of the table, his woman next to him. George Challenger sat at the other end, with Finn close on his left, and the Roxtons sat across from her. Thus, each couple was next to his or her partner. That allowed for such activities as Finn's buttering George's bread much of the time, or for the Roxtons to secretly hold hands under the table.

Phoebe considered." If we may, Ned, I think that I should sit next to Finn and Laralei can sit between me and Veronica. If that doesn't upset Marguerite by having a whole line of blondes on one side of the table..." She grinned at the brunette Briton, who rolled her eyes and looked put upon. Marguerite Krux did drama very well.

"Agreed," said Veronica, smiling at Marguerite's theatrics." Come on, Marguerite. Let's finish making breakfast."

"Can we help?" offered Phoebe.

Laralei looked shocked.

"Come, cousin," chided Phoebe. "We are not royalty here, and we may as well be useful guests."

"Just because I wear the earrings of a slave girl doesn't mean that I want the duties of one," protested Laralei. She looked carefully at Marguerite, curious to see her expression.

Marguerite smiled, recognizing a kindred spirit. "I think that Laralei and I, being superior beings, should sit and talk. I will entertain Her Royal Highness while you lesser beings finish making and serving the morning repast." She smirked at Veronica.

Veronica shook her head. "Any excuse to get out of the kitchen, huh? All right, you ladies keep one another company, and we worker bees will finish up. Come on, Ned. The others will be down soon. We may as well fry the eggs. Who wants scrambled and who wants over easy, or whatever?" She had learned the USA term for eggs fried on both sides. Her British companions had at first been mildly surprised, as they normally ate eggs so fried with the yellow yolks up, what Americans called, "sunny side up", as Ned had explained. Veronica had always seen them prepared both ways and had been astounded to learn that in the UK, no one much seemed to turn eggs in the skillet. It seemed such a simple, obvious thing to do… [Thanks to readers Jowan Zethar and Prof. Henge for UK cultural data.]

"Make mine poached!" called a male voice from the stairs. Lord Roxton was descending, followed by the Challengers, who were holding hands.

Finn sat Challenger down and kissed him before she went to the kitchen. She already knew that he would take his eggs scrambled and how he liked his coffee.

She greeted the Amazons as she passed, and Phoebe followed her into the kitchen.

When all was ready for Challenger's meal, Phoebe leaned over and whispered into Finn's ear. The other blonde looked surprised, then slapped hands with her ancestor. "Go for it, Grandmother! I have to see this." She snickered wickedly and Veronica looked over suspiciously, aware of Finn's wry sense of humor. She was beginning to suspect that it ran in the family, Phoebe being of Finn's lineage.

Challenger barely glanced up from some notes that he was making pertaining to his experiments in conductivity, which he hoped would let them improve the Treehouse refrigerator, and generate more power to run the fans. He was also concerned to get the temperature lower in the meat storage refrigerator.

He noted that Finn had set his plate in front of him, with coffee. Like the others, he was very fond of tea, but sometimes preferred coffee at breakfast.

"Thank you, Darling," he muttered, accepting her hug.

She sat at his side and buttered a slice of toast for him, as she often did, and he accepted it without paying much attention. He had come to rely on Finn to take care of him, and loved her partly for her attentions to him. He loved being catered to, and in turn, sometimes set Finn on a wooden pedestal in their room when he was especially proud of her. Without her, he might sometimes go hungry for hours when engrossed in some lab experiment, too intrigued to come upstairs and eat.

"Here, Genius." She passed him the toast, which he took with a brief smile. He was feeling really quite good this morning, and looked forward to testing his calculations.

A muffled snicker reached his ears, from Marguerite.

He looked her way and saw that she was trying not to laugh. Silly woman. But at least, she wasn't complaining about something...

Finn stood and ran her hand over his hair, playing with his neck and ears, then rubbed his shoulders before leaning down and kissing his cheek. "Want anything else from the kitchen, Genius?"

He reached up and took one of her hands and kissed it. "No, Finn, do eat your own breakfast before it gets cold. I'm fine until I need more coffee in a moment."

"Are you sure that there isn't anything at all that I can get for you, Genius? I want to be sure that you lack for nothing when I'm around."

And she pulled out his chair a little and sat on his lap, arm around his neck, and kissed him again, on the lips, intimately. Her hands played over his arms and chest and she leaned into him, purring, squirming on his lap.

Challenger was befuddled. Finn did such things, but not at breakfast, in front of everyone. And today, they had guests, royal visitors from a powerful tribe. Challenger blushed.

"Really, Darling, I'm fine." He cleared his throat self consciously. "Nicole, ah, we do have guests..." He pushed her gently away.

"But I worship you, O mighty man. Oh, let me serve your needs, however you please!" And she was all over him again, her hands active to a degree unseemly in public.

"Oh, George! May I cut your hair today? I love being next to you, basking in the warmth of your greatness!" And she snuggled against him, purring again.

Challenger couldn't believe what was happening. Had Finn been drinking so early in the morning? And some of what she said was almost a parody of herself! He became aware that everyone else was laughing.

The girl on his lap rose, giving him a farewell caress, and then she laughed, too.

A flustered Challenger looked more carefully at her, then at Finn, standing just beyond the girl who had been on his lap. Finn said, "I'm sorry, Genius. Phoebe went a little further than I'd expected. But we had you fooled for a moment."

Everyone applauded, laughing, and Challenger bristled. Then, he, too, saw the humor in this and smiled, if a bit wanly.

"Very funny," he mumbled, as Finn sat next to him, Phoebe now in her place next to Finn. Both were blushing, but grinning broadly.

"I feel as if I'm seeing double, " noted Marguerite.

"Double your pleasure; double your fun, eh, George?" Roxton was amused. "Which 'Finn' is a better kisser?"

"That had better be of purely intellectual interest to you, Roxton," Marguerite teased. "You have the best kisser, anyway, better than any blonde who ever lived."

"Don't do that to George in the dark, Phoebe," cautioned Malone. "He'd never know the difference. You might wind up having another baby from our little group."

"I'm sure that it would be a distinguished child," replied Phoebe. "Professor Challenger is a brilliant man, not to mention being big and protective. I see why Finn loves him."

"George would know who was who in the dark, not that I'm willing to let teasing him go that far." Finn was confident that her man would know her little subtleties and desires. She colored slightly, wondering if Phoebe might be shocked by some of her preferences and her willingness to go all out to satisfy Challenger and herself. She had opened the door to a whole new sensual world for him, and he had found his horizons broadened after they had begun sharing a bed. At first stiff and embarrassed, he had eventually responded with vigor and imagination, and Finn was filled with pleasure to know what she meant to him in this intimate way.

"All right, you clowns," said Veronica. "Enough is enough. Let George eat in peace. George, do you want more coffee?

The real Finn jumped up and took his half empty cup. "This may be cold, anyway, Lover. I'll be right back."

Phoebe shook her head, amused. "I overplayed that, I thought," she mused. "But the real Finn is almost as loving as I was. Professor, you are fortunate to have such a girl. It always amazes me that she is free, yet is more attentive to you than many slave girls who love their masters."

Finn heard, and called, "I am his slave, in love. His collar is invisible, on my heart, instead of on my neck. But it binds me to him more than if I was slave. I love the Genius more than I ever knew that a woman could love a man. But George is an exceptional man. He deserves an exceptional woman." She giggled at her witticism, and even Challenger smiled. He was proud of Finn, and felt very fortunate that he indeed had an exceptional woman.

Finn set his cup before him and held out the coffeepot to the Roxtons, who also needed refills. She then sat beside Challenger and took his hand and looked to him to be sure that he wasn't angry over Phoebe's little parody of her nurturing behavior.

He saw her anxiety, and squeezed her hand and smiled at her. She squeezed back and glowed, then began eating her own breakfast.

"So," said Veronica. "What shall we do today? Other than tend the garden, I mean."

XXX

"We need to hunt," Roxton offered. "Our meat supply needs to be replenished, now that we're back from Amazonia."

"Cool, Johnny! Can I join you?" This from Finn, his usual hunting partner.

"I think I'd like to go," countered Marguerite. "Finnykins, why don't you entertain the princesses?"

Finn persisted. "Well, we can both go."

Marguerite gave her an amused look. "No, Finn, we CANNOT both go. I mean, I want some time alone with John."

"Oh," said an embarrassed Finn. "Mushy stuff, huh? Okay, you two just be careful while you fool around, when you don't have me to watch your backs."

"I want to shoot a gun," declared Laralei, and Phoebe enthusiastically nodded.

"We can go fishing, Darling, and fire off some shots at big clods of dirt or whatever if we don't see any game," suggested Challenger. He knew how much his mate loved to fish, as did he.

Finn brightened. "Yeah, that sounds good. And we can show the girls how to fish. Or, do you know?" She looked to Phoebe.

Phoebe said that she never fished, but that some Amazons did net fish for their tables.

"No, no," said Challenger. "We'll teach you to fish for sport as well as for food." And he explained how to use a rod and reel.

"That sounds sort of inefficient," ventured a dubious Laralei.

"Try it and see. It's actually fun, and will get all the fish that we need for the Treehouse," Veronica contributed. "Ned, let's join them." She looked hopefully at her man.

"That suits," he replied. And it would surely beat staying at home, where Veronica would think of household chores. And he wanted to spend some happy moments with her in the jungle.

As the weeks went by, the Malones were bonding increasingly better, liking and loving each other all the more.

"We can pack picnic lunches," Marguerite said, "and with luck, none of you will get whatever I make."

That brought general laughter, for even their guests had heard about her misadventures in the culinary arts.

"Take a couple of the Lugers from the gun room," said Roxton. "We don't shoot them much, and we captured quite a lot of 9mm ammunition from Burton's slavers. Recoil isn't bad, and the ladies will enjoy shooting those."

"Slavers! When? Did you fight them?!" Phoebe was intrigued, so that story had to be told. When it was done, she looked thoughtful and said, "You were fortunate to escape their clutches. Will this Xma'Klee who divined where you were know that we have come?" She looked apprehensive.

"Probably not," said Marguerite. "I have learned that he does have strange powers, but he is not looking for you. He took drugs and went into a trance that let him see Finn and me, when he knew that we had been kidnapped." (See, "A Night in the Lost World", by TLW Scribes)

"We don't want to fire too many shots from one place," observed Malone. "If the Zanga hear much shooting, they'll come to see what's happening. We don't want that."

The agenda agreed upon, Roxton and Finn drew pictures to show the Amazon girls how to sight a pistol, and explained safety procedures and how to load and fire guns. This quickly bored Veronica and Marguerite, who cleaned up the breakfast things. Ned joined them in the kitchen, relishing being with Veronica.

Finally, all was in readiness, and they went down in the elevator, looking forward to a pleasant afternoon of adventure.

XXX

The Roxtons struck out on their own, heading toward a known game trail as close to the Treehouse as they normally hunted. Hunting too close might scare off animals needed for food, keeping them away from the Treehouse.

Challenger led his party toward a thick patch of jungle with a hollow in it that would afford room to set up improvised targets to shoot at, but where the surrounding trees would deflect the noise of the guns. Hopefully, no Zanga hunters would hear the shots and investigate. Yet, they could fire at targets out to 60 yards distant.

When they arrived and had rested from the exertion of the mile long journey in the tropical heat, Finn showed the princesses how to load the magazines for the Lugers, taking care to get the bullet noses inclined at just the right angle as she loaded. Otherwise, the guns might jam. The P-08 Luger was sensitive in that regard, more so than Ned's or Roxton's Colt .45 automatics .

She inserted a magazine into one gun and watched as Phoebe pulled up and back on the checkered toggle knobs to operate the action and load the first cartridge into the chamber. She then pushed the safety lever to the Fire position. (Finn had explained that the word, Gesichert exposed in the safe position meant "made safe" in German.)

She showed the visiting girls how to check that the little pop-up tab above the chamber now showed the word Geladen, confirming that a round was in the chamber.

"Be careful," she warned. "If you pull the trigger, the gun will now fire. Remember how we showed you to align the sights in relation to the target? To center the front sight just below the target, like the target is a ball being balanced on the nose of a sea lion in a circus? Be steady, pull smoothly and evenly back on the trigger, and the gun will fire. Don't be afraid when it jumps in your hand. And, above all, don't get scared and drop the gun! Okay, aim and shoot!"

Everyone covered their ears, and Phoebe fired her first shot. She was elated as the gun bucked slightly in her hand. A puff of dust showed where the bullet struck, just above the hole in a hillside that she was using for a target. She held the gun now with both hands, the left supporting the right. Three shots later, and she was hitting the hole.

Suddenly, to everyone's shock, a big lizard flashed out of the hole and stood on a rock, looking around. It was a good three feet long, and the tongue flickered in and out, tasting the air currents for scent.

Phoebe had two shots left, and she centered the sights just below the lizard's shoulder and fired. The 9mm bullet smacked into the reptile, which was blown off of the rock.

It twisted in agony, scrabbling at the dirt 15 yards away, although mortally wounded. The mouth snapped open and closed, the jaws and the sharply clawed paws convulsing. The powerful tail thrashed at the leaves.

The women were scared and held their hands to their mouths in horror. The Princess of Pharsalia screamed, and even Veronica also took in her breath sharply. Finn stepped over quickly, and took the Luger from Phoebe, for she had forgotten to keep it pointed "downrange", away from their group.

"Ned, do something!" demanded Veronica. "That poor thing is in agony!"

The wounded lizard realized what had harmed it and gathered its legs under it, looking as it might attack. Finn walked over to within a few feet and blew its brains out just as it launched itself at her. The Luger was now empty and the toggle action stayed open, held by the magazine follower.

Finn took out a loaded magazine and deftly changed it out for the empty one. Now, she had a fresh eight shots if she needed them. She lifted up and back slightly to disengage the action, and it snapped closed, loading the chamber again.

Veronica started to say something, but saw the look on Phoebe's and Laralei's faces and noted that they had comprehended the gravity of Phoebe's action.

Ned said gently to Phoebe, "We generally don't shoot living things unless we need them for food, or to protect ourselves. The lizard would have run off if you hadn't shot it. Now, its life is wasted, a needless death."

Phoebe turned, ready to snap at him, but Challenger put an arm around her and shook his head. "Don't become angry, Princess. You probably didn't realize what would happen. But unless shot in an immediately vital spot, reptiles are hardy, and they take awhile to die. That animal was in needless pain. We'll find you some inanimate targets for casual shooting." He smiled to take the sting out of what he and Ned had said.

Laralei was intrigued. She watched the lizard's dying contortions. "I've seen several of you here kill humans, cannibals, and you did not show the compassion that you have for this lizard," she mused. "Why the discrepancy? Are not humans, even savage foes, more important than lower animals like this?"

Veronica answered for them. "Princess, we killed the cannibals because we had to. They would have killed us, even eaten our bodies, had we not done so. There was no need to harm the lizard. They can be eaten, but there isn't much meat, and they can scratch or bite unless fully dead. They usually aren't worth shooting, unless food is really scarce. But is it right to kill living things, unless we have cause? Mind you, we do sometimes hunt for sport, but we eat those animals. Only the hunts for dangerous cats or raptor dinosaurs are for thrills instead of for meat. And those animals are dangerous. We usually leave them alone, unless they attack our livestock or those of the Zanga. Or, stalk us!"

"I saw Finn after the battle with the cannibals," Phoebe related. "When she thought that no one was looking, she went to Challenger and cried in his arms. She hated to kill even evil men."

Finn flushed and looked away, embarrassed. Challenger walked over and took her hand, the one not holding the pistol. He leaned his head over and rested it against hers, and after a moment, she looked up and offered him a pale smile.

"I guess that you can shoot at that hole again," said Ned. "If anything else was in there, it probably would have come out by now."

XXX

After each princess had fired a few more shots, each being delighted with the experience, the party reloaded the Lugers and the Amazons put on the gun belts and the holsters for them. The German military holsters each held a spare magazine of ammunition as well as the pistol and a magazine loading tool.

"Just don't draw one of those pistols without remembering to keep it pointed in a safe direction," cautioned Ned Malone.

"We won't," promised Laralei, adjusting the way the belt fit her waist.

"I rather fancy that we had better move on," suggested Challenger. "What Finn means when she says to "beat feet'". He chuckled as his woman smiled shyly at his description of her language from the next century.

"I could go for lunch soon," remarked Ned.

And they agreed to look for a good place to picnic that was well away from where they had been shooting, lest the noise of the guns draw unwanted visitors.

Soon, they had found a shaded glade that offered cover, but gave them opportunity to see any enemies coming before they would see the explorers and their lovely guests.

They set out lunch, passing around sandwiches and deviled eggs and other good things, with lemonade and water. The lemonade had been chilled in a bag to which Veronica had added ice as they left the Treehouse. It had melted now, and the lemonade needed to be drunk soon, lest it warm. A small fire was lighted, to heat water to brew tea. Challenger felt that was a suitable civilized touch. Like his close friends John and Marguerite, he was typically English in his love for this beverage.

All had eagerly begun eating and were nearly finished when something happened that they would later recollect as one of the closest calls that any of them had while the Amazon visitors were with them.

It happened suddenly, as Challenger rose to enter the bushes to relieve himself.

On the way back, he passed beneath a tree where a large boa constrictor was lurking. It would have preferred a rat or rabbit, no doubt, and would have been pressed to consume Challenger. Probably, its attack was out of anger or from feeling threatened, although in fact, the eminent scientist never saw the big snake until it struck.

The first he knew of its presence was when he was jerked to a stop. His jacket was violently wrenched backward as he stepped forward. He was brought to a jolting halt as the snake clamped its powerful jaws into the cloth.

He next felt it fall from the tree, entwining him within its steel coils, applying pressure, and trapping his arms. He scrabbled for his Colt .45 revolver, but was helpless to reach his holster. And no one could see him!

Finally, desperate, he called out for help. But the others were talking and laughing and didn't hear him!

Challenger yelled louder, the snake trying to free its teeth from the fabric of the coat. He knew that the teeth curved backward to prevent prey animals from wriggling free. If the snake bit him, he would be badly injured. It wasn't venomous, but the large head held an array of sharp teeth, and the bite was powerful. If the snake clamped onto him, not the coat, its head would be difficult to wrench free of his flesh. And there was the risk of infection...

But he was even more concerned about having his internal organs ruptured, causing him to bleed to death, no surgeon being anywhere near them in this accursed, remote jungle!

Suddenly, Finn lifted her hand to silence her companions. She tilted her head, listening. Immediately, Malone rose to go to Challenger. He remembered now that George should have already been back. Something was wrong!

Now, they heard his voice, pleading for succor. Veronica grabbed her bow, leaving her sandwich half eaten.

Finn blanched white, for she knew that her man was in peril. She could hear the desperate note in his voice, and she rushed to see what was awry.

Phoebe and Laralei looked at one another, baffled.

"That was Prof. Challenger, wasn't it?" asked the senior princess.

Laralei agreed, and drew the Luger pistol from her holster. Phoebe saw, and followed suit, cocking the gun as they followed Finn and the Malones.

Soon, they found Challenger and the snake, which now had him by the left shoulder, high, with its fearsome jaws.

Veronica was aghast. She knew the danger, but an arrow was useless. Finn stopped Phoebe as she tried to aim her borrowed 9mm, pointing out that a bullet would injure or kill Challenger, even if it stuck the boa. The 9mm would, as Malone drolly commented, penetrate until next payday. In pistol terms, it went deep into flesh.

Finn drew her knife, a small Bowie type that Lord Roxton had made for her the previous winter. It was very sharp, and she was deadly with it. But she couldn't see how to stab the snake effectively without risking cutting her mentor and lover. She felt the cold grasp of fear in her heart so badly that it chilled her bones. She knew an awful dread, for her man and for their future.

Ned solved the problem. Hastily setting aside his .450 double-barreled rifle, he drew his knife and forcibly pulled the teeth off of Challenger, hoping to cut the animal's head off as he struggled with it.

It wrenched violently, thrashing frightfully, realizing its intense peril. It let go of Challenger and went for Ned. He got its throat as it struck at him, then was wrestling it for dear life.

Veronica saw her chance and stepped forward. "Hold that head steady, Ned!" she called. Then, as he struggled to comply, she stepped under his arm and stabbed upward with the point of her blade aimed at the snake's brain from below.

Her knife went through the head, slicing the brain cleanly in half. But the boa thrashed even more powerfully, dying now, but far from dead.

Phoebe saw what was needed, and she helped Ned to hold the head as Veronica twisted her knife to do further damage to the brain.

The coils writhed in agony as the boa fought mindlessly for life, and wrapped its tail and part of its lower length around Veronica's legs. She was about to fall when Phoebe grabbed the tail and unwound the snake, using all of her strength.

They all rolled free and Finn drew her Smith & Wesson .38 Special and fired into the snake just below the head. The bullet severed the spinal cord, and the snake was effectively dead. Yet, it slithered around in contorted convulsions, the muscle reactions driving it when the brain could not.

They pulled the half stunned Challenger away, his lungs gasping for breath.

As they stood looking at the convulsing snake, Challenger sat on a log and tried to restore his impaired breathing. Finn holstered her gun and knelt beside him, imploring Malone to do something.

She lifted George's arms, forcing air into the tortured lungs, and he began coughing. Ned was thankful to see that no blood came up. He helped Challenger to move further away from the snake as Veronica took his machete from his belt and used it to completely sever the reptile's head. It took her several strong strokes to manage this. Then, she struck right, and the grim head flew off of the neck as she sighed in relief.

As soon as Challenger was able to speak, he described what had happened, and they helped him to rise and return to their campfire.

There, his shirt off, they washed the wounds in his shoulder, and Finn smeared some of his antibiotic ointment on the wound before bandaging it. Little more could be done. They squeezed the wound before bandaging it, hoping to force bleeding to remove any debris from the jacket and any filth and bacteria that was on the boa's teeth.

His ribs weren't broken, although they were sore, and although there might be some bruising, all they could do was to hope that nothing inside was ruptured.

Finn wanted to return to the Treehouse, and the others were amenable. But Challenger got his shirt back on, insisting that they continue on and do some fishing. "We need the fish for tonight's dinner," he pointed out.

He also insisted on finishing his lunch and was feeling better by the time that they packed up their things and resumed the trail.

But as they later fished, Finn stayed near him and several times set her rod and reel aside and came to sit with him, searching his face for a clue to his condition.

Finally, with several peacock "bass" and a Red-Tailed Catfish in their custody, they set out for the Treehouse.

Phoebe and Laralei had each caught fish and saw how this angling could be fun.

"Oh, we've had fun," noted Ned. "Especially George. Eh, George?" He started to slap Challenger cheerfully on the shoulder, but stopped as he remembered that this shoulder had suffered enough.

Challenger managed a grim smile. "Oh, I've had worse days," he said. "Thankfully, I can't immediately recall when, though."

Finn looked at Ned and thanked him for pulling the savage snake off of her mate, and then she stepped over and kissed Malone on the cheek, giving him a warm hug.

The astonished Ned looked inordinately pleased with himself, and liked it even better when his own woman also kissed him. "That was very brave, Neddy," she told him. "How does it feel to be a hero?" She smiled at him, and Ned felt ten feet tall.

"It feels pretty good when I get kisses like that," he allowed.

Veronica and Finn looked mischievously at one another, and then each kissed him again. Phoebe and Laralei were next, laughing as they took their turns.

"I could definitely get used to this," Ned commented. "George, how do you feel about getting bitten soon by another snake?"

Challenger chuckled. "Actually, Ned, I should think that as the injured fellow, I ought to be getting some kisses." He winked at his fiancée, who blushed, and turned to her friends.

"Ladies?" she said, and grinning widely, all the women converged on poor Challenger, who had thought that he was simply making a joke. Finn was first, and the only one to kiss him on the lips.

A few moments later, everyone having laughed to their content, and Challenger having wiped off some lipstick, they gathered up their fish and tackle and began their homeward trek.

"We'd better not go back the same way," cautioned Veronica. "Not only will predators probably be feeding on that dead boa by now; anyone who heard Finny's shot may have gone to investigate. I know a different trail. It's a little longer, but safer this particular afternoon."

XXX

Lord Roxton was sitting on the veranda of the Treehouse, talking to Marguerite Krux, a pitcher of limeade and two glasses between them on a small folding table.

She was sewing, and they were talking companionably, occasionally exchanging endearments. Some of these were clever compliments, wittily delivered by a couple of highly intelligent, articulate, and droll lovers.

"Look, John! I think our missing friends have found their way home!" Marguerite gestured toward the edge of the jungle, where a group of six people were emerging from the wooded terrain beyond the cleared area immediately surrounding the Treehouse.

Roxton lifted his binocular, which he had been using to observe colorful birds in the trees, and confirmed that the party they saw was indeed the Challengers, the Malones, and their guests.

He stood, set down his glass of fruit juice, and kissed his mate.

"Keep sewing, Darling. I won't be a moment. I'll just send down the elevator for them. Looks as if they made a good catch."

"I'm not surprised," his better half observed. "I knew that they were up to some "fishy" business." She winked at Roxton.

XXX

Dinner went well, fresh fish broiled in butter and lemon juice smelling almost as good as it tasted. A medley of garden vegetables and fresh bread completed the meal, with coffee.

Even Veronica had grown to love coffee, and they had found it growing where Veronica's parents had planted some bushes years ago to supplement ones found already growing.

They now had a steady supply, and Challenger had overseen the planting of additional bushes. Even after their friends left the Plateau (if they ever could), the Malones would be assured of a supply of the beans, and Challenger had devised an improved coffee grinder. He noted that the coffee was the high grade Caffea arabica, not the cheaper, less aromatic and delicate Caffea robusta so often planted in Brazil.

Dinner was an animated affair, the princesses asking many questions and both noting the warmth and candor that characterized their hosts. Laralei saw the Roxtons holding hands under the table twice, and once John winked at Marguerite, and she blushed and smiled. Laralei felt warm inside, and almost wished that she could relinquish her crown for the love of a man like Lord Roxton. It must be the most fulfilling feeling that a woman could know, other than having and raising his babies. But surely being an Amazon princess was also very fulfilling!

Following the meal, they sat and talked in the living room, eating cake and some strange dessert that Ned Malone said was called ice cream. It was cold and had to be eaten fairly quickly or it would melt. But it tasted delicious. Phoebe made a mental note to learn how it was made. She was determined to take the happy secret to her regal mother as a souvenir of her trip.

Laralei wandered over to the globe mounted on a swivel turret atop a beautiful rosewood stand. She ran a lovely hand across the surface, noting the smoothness, and realized that there was glass under the colored surface.

"What is this?" she inquired.

Roxton told her, and of course, the explorers and Finn had to explain how this device represented the entire world, as it would be seen from space.

They showed her where England was, and where Ned was from, upstate New York in the United States of America. And they saw where they lived, here in northern Brazil, on this large, elevated plateau.

They talked animatedly and Veronica knew that when it was time to part, their new friends would leave reluctantly, and that both parties would surely arrange to meet again later that year. She rejoiced, for she knew that the Amazons would be powerful allies.

And she realized that she liked Phoebe and Laralei.

After a time, she noticed that Finn was fidgeting and looked sad. She glanced several times at Challenger and colored and looked upset.

This was so rare that Veronica was concerned, and she took her "little sister" aside in the kitchen.

"What's wrong, Finn? You look like someone told you that Ned had forgotten how to make ice cream and that there'd be no more, ever again." She knew how much Finn liked ice cream.

Finn cast her gaze down and twiddled her fingers nervously. "Vee, I let George down today. What if there had been just the two of us when that snake got him? I stood there like a dope, not knowing what to do! I could have lost him!" She looked at Veronica, her anguish real and plain.

Veronica knew how much Finn loved her man, and patted her arm comfortingly. "Finny, I didn't know what to do right away, either. We're lucky that Ned acted as soon as he did, and so well." She snickered. "I guess that I'd better give him a treat when we get to our room tonight. Men are so easy to reward, and it's fun, too."

Finn smiled faintly. "Good try, Vee. But I fucked up, royally. Even now, I don't know what to do if it ever happens again. How would I ever get the jaws loose and get it off of him, and keep that thing from squeezing both of us to death?" She looked forlorn.

Veronica brightened. "Let's ask John and George. One or the other should know." Roxton had now heard about the incident, of course.

When they went out, Challenger was rubbing his bitten shoulder and grimacing. He smiled when he saw Finn and motioned her over. "Darling, I think this bite needs looking after, but I wanted to wait until you could do it. Let's go down to the lab and see what can be done for it."

She saw that he was in some pain and her heart went out to him.

For the moment, she set aside her guilt and joined him in his beloved work area, where he rummaged around and found some alcohol to clean the wound and some antibiotic salve to protect against infection. He also took two of his analgesic tablets, for he had fever and a headache.

Roxton had a good look at the bite, surprised by the extent of the damage. The area showed not only the teeth marks, with some rips where Malone had pulled the rearward inclined teeth clear of his flesh, but there was some bruising there and more on his ribs.

"I think I'll be all right," Challenger avowed, "but I may feel like dying for awhile. That bloody thing squeezed me like one would squeeze an orange for juice, and I feel every bit of it." His complexion was reddish and Marguerite felt his forehead and looked with concern at Roxton.

Malone said, "George, I'm sorry as hell, but I didn't know what to do. It took awhile to act. What should we have done?"

"Stick a knife up into its damned brain, I suppose," Challenger guessed. "This wasn't something that we've trained for, or even thought about. Ned, I thank you and Veronica from the bottom of my heart. I'm just glad to be alive."

Roxton concurred." Stab the brain, and don't let your blade go all the way through and enter the victim, too. If you can cut the nerves and the vertebra in the neck while someone else tries to unwind the snake, that's about all that one can hope for. I saw an African once who was constricted by a rock python. It wasn't a pretty sight. It's a good thing that these big snakes don't go after people often."

Challenger downed a capsule of his antibiotic formula, to guard against internal infection.

He turned to Finn. "Let's go up to bed, Darling. Or, I will, and you can stay and talk with the others if you like."

She said that she would go with him. "I failed you earlier today, Genius. The least that I can do is to look after you now."

He looked tenderly at her and pulled her over to him and kissed her. "Don't fret, Darling. This took all of us by surprise, but it ended well. I think you'd have acted in another few seconds. You have a survivor's mindset and think quickly. Ned just beat you to it. You can help me to heal. I may take tomorrow off and lie about while you tend to me." He chuckled. "I think I deserve some time off, after this. I'll be stiff for a few days, but I don't think I have any internal bleeding from being squeezed, thank God. You may have to be careful not to hug me until these bruises heal, but just having you near me will help me to recover and deal with the discomfort." He put his arm around her and looked deeply into her eyes.

"You are not to blame for this, Finn. We all are, for my having gotten separated and not paid enough attention to what might be lurking in the trees. I suppose that we shall never know why the snake went after me. I'm probably too big for it to have eaten me. Maybe I just surprised it or it felt that I was invading its territory, or something. Veronica, I don't know what I should have done without you and Ned. Thank you, very much indeed."

XXX

The Challengers shut down the lab for the night, and everyone trooped upstairs, where they stood talking for a few minutes. Then, everyone drifted off to their rooms, tired after the long day.

For the Roxtons and the Malones, things went fairly conventionally, apart from Ned receiving a nice surprise from Veronica. Apart from other things that she did, she called Ned, "My hero!" And that was almost as pleasant as the other actions that she took. This being a mild Fic, we had better leave the rest to the reader's imagination, except to say that Ned was very happy with what Vee did to make his night truly special!

For the Challengers, it was different. Finn undressed somewhat mechanically, hardly noticing George looking appreciatively at her trim figure. Usually, she preened a bit, peeking to be sure that she drew his eye. As her friends sometimes noted, Finn was in truth somewhat of an exhibitionist. She enjoyed being enjoyed by men, visually and beyond! When the girls danced in the Treehouse, it was Finn who took the most pride in watching the men watching her.

To be sure, the other girls also enjoyed being admired, for what pretty woman does not? But Finn drew upon this to enhance her self esteem, which had been somewhat shaky when she had come to live here. Few of the men whom she had been with before George Challenger had seen her as other than a desirable sex object. She knew little else as a measure of her appeal to the opposite sex, indeed to her self worth. That was largely a byproduct of her desperate times, when a girl's looks were her main appeal.

Few men took the time to develop a deeper interest in her, except for within the small family group to which she had belonged for about a year before they were betrayed and decimated by slavers and thrill killers. (For more on Finn's past and how it affected her, see, "Challenger's Birthday" in Mature Fiction on this board.)

Tonight, Finn felt guilt for having failed the man who had rescued her troubled psyche from the ruins of New Amazonia and made her feel a worthwhile, treasured person. She bit her lower lip, and walked self consciously as she took Challenger's clothes and hung them in their closet.

Challenger watched as she unclipped her bra and draped it over the back of a chair. She used just one hand, and seemed preoccupied. Usually, she bent one knee, reached back with both hands in a classic pose of feminine grace, and removed it stylishly, watching him admire her. It was something of a ceremony with them, each enjoying the procedure.

Tonight, she came meekly to bed, leaving her black bikini panties on, not hooking her thumbs in the waistband and looking inquiringly at her man, visually asking if he wanted them off.

When she was in bed, she checked her .38 revolver, waited until Challenger had seen to his .45 Colt and his watch, and then asked if he wanted the light off.

He nodded, and she switched off the bedside lamp. Finn lay with her back to him, saying nothing, and when he reached out a hand to caress her hair, he felt tears on her cheek.

"Darling, what's wrong?" he asked. "Have I somehow hurt you in some way?"

She shook her head sharply. "Hell, no, Genius! It's me. I just bleeding well stood there, waiting for some bug to fly into my mouth, when I should have done something to help you! That snake made me freeze up, and I have no excuse to offer you for my action. Or, lack of action."

Challenger gently inquired, "And have I asked you for an excuse?"

"No, Lover. That just makes me feel worse. If you had yelled at me, I would understand and feel that I had it coming. You're too nice to me." And he knew that she was softly crying.

He turned her and kissed her tears away, nibbling at her lips and her forehead. "Nicole, are you not the ultimate woman? Have I ever really been disappointed in you? Well, I mean after you quit smarting off and began in earnest to learn to read.

"You are too hard on yourself. None of us is perfect, even me." He realized how that sounded, and cleared his throat self consciously. "Well, perhaps that sounds a trifle pompous. I just meant that none of us is without fault. You behaved better than most young women would have, given the circumstances. I quite understand, and if this happens again, we will all know how to deal with the matter."

"Genius, you depend on me. I should have thought faster. Is this how I'd deal with it if one of our children was in peril? A big snake like that might go after a kid. They sometimes do. The Zanga tell us things like that."

"Well, you would not have let a child out of your sight in the jungle. And I daresay that your maternal instincts would enable you to make a sound decision if that ever happens."

"George, I have nurturing instincts for you, too, and look what happened." She touched his injured shoulder. "How does this feel? Is it very painful?"

"In fact, yes. It hurts. And if you were the ideal woman, you'd quit wallowing in self admonition, and kiss it and make it well." He smiled at her in the dark.

Finn laughed softly, and leaned over and kissed his shoulder just above the bandage.

"There," she said. "Is that all better?"

"It certainly helps," he agreed.

She looked inquiringly at him, the couple barely able to distinguish one another's features in the shadows. "Do you want to fool around? I'm not really in the mood, but letting you screw me is the least that I can do, if you're really randy."

He shook his head, the movement just discernible in the dim room. "No, actually, Finn. I don't want to make love, not that way. I don't feel up to it. My ribs hurt worse than your conscience, I daresay, and with more reason. But I would love it if you'd lay your head on my good shoulder and just talk as we embrace."

"Sure, baby," she agreed and did that, kissing him for 20 minutes as they spoke, then he rolled her on her tummy and began massaging her back. It felt heavenly, as ever. Finn loved this, and she cherished it, for the physical comfort and for the easing of mental stress.

"If I wasn't so tired, I swear I'd purr," she confessed." That feels wonderful. George, I love you. If I marry you, will you keep me in backrubs? "

He chuckled. "Certainly. Will you keep buttering my bread, even after we live in our own home, and you aren't doing it just to aggravate Marguerite?"

She snickered. "It did get to her for awhile, didn't it? I think she was afraid that Johnny would want her to do that for him. Now, she sometimes does that, and they seem okay with it."

"Marguerite is awfully independent," Challenger observed. "I was quite surprised when she began doing that for him. You noticed that she did it as a parody of you, at first? I think she was afraid to admit that she cared that much for a man."

Finn nodded. "Yes. I was more afraid that I wouldn't show how much I care. I wanted you to know it after I fell for you. I was afraid to give up my own independence, until I realized that some of that was what you needed, to make you love me. I had to offer my soul as well as my body. I've done that. But I was desperate, too, to make you accept me. Do you know how much you mean to me, you big colussus of science?"

"Wait until I heal, and you can show me," he suggested with a smile. "It will give me an incentive to get well."

"Men!" she snorted. "Always thinking of sex as the answer to everything!"

"It's not?" he asked, with feigned puzzlement. "Seriously, Finn, lie on my good shoulder for a while longer, and let me hold you. I do so love to make passionate love with you, but I treasure these quiet times fully as much. Did you know that? It's quite true; I swear it."

"Good to know," she acknowledged. "I like the quiet times, too, when we just hold one another and talk. George? Do you really think that Phoebe is my ancestor? Will we ever know for sure?"

"Hard to say," he admitted. "Personally, given the results of the blood analysis and the hair samples, and your physical appearances, I think it is almost beyond doubt. I just cannot conclusively prove it, scientifically, not entirely. You like her. I can tell."

She smiled. "You're very perceptive, for a man. Yes, I do like her. She feels more like a sister than a great grandmother. I want to see her again. Can we trust the Amazons to be friendly? And can I trust Selena to keep her depraved, greedy hands off of you?"

Challenger was flattered and amused. "Well, between the two of us, I daresay that we can make our point that I am yours and you are mine. Actually, I think we managed that. Do you still have reservations?"

She shrugged. "Not really, especially now that she seems to have taken a shine to Gracchus, the new King of the Men. Do you think they'll get it on, big- time? They like each other, for sure, but she can't marry. Wait a minute, Genius! Maybe that's what happened to the Amazons! They may have bred with the Men until there was no more need to be Amazons. Both groups, Amazons and Men, just grew together and became one community."

"By Jove, I shouldn't be at all surprised if you're right! " he exclaimed. "That would explain much. But your line persisted, so I think that another generation or two of Amazons hung on. Phoebe and Laralei will rule in their time. Laralei does now, in Pharsalia. Phoebe will probably succeed her mother, when the time comes."

"We'd better play up to them then," she thought. "No telling whether we might need them on our side, someday. And I want to know my grandmother and her cousin. It gives me a sense of family. I need that."

"Go off the pill that I devised for birth control soon," he offered. "I'll give you a sense of family!"

Finn snuggled closer to him. "Suits me. But I mean knowing my ancestors. You're going to be the source of my descendants."

They slept, each now comfortable with the other, although Finn still felt that she should have responded sooner to the snake attack. But she was at peace when her eyes closed. She was thinking of ways to kill giant snakes as she drifted off to dreamland.

XXX

Dawn came, and an hour after, Veronica knocked on their door. "George! Leave that poor girl alone and send her to the kitchen. I need help making breakfast."

Finn laughed. "Vee! The 'poor girl' is barely awake, not being molested, and the Genius needs his beauty rest. I'll be right down."

As they made breakfast, Finn noticed that some of the fruit was getting past its prime, and set several small melons aside. "Leave those alone," she requested. "I have a use for them later today."

Veronica was puzzled."If you think they'll make good fish bait, I doubt it. Maybe Pacu will hit pieces of that on a hook, but most fish eat meat. What are you going to do; use it to attract birds to a trap?"

"Nope," Finn said. "it's a secret. But you can watch me later. You might learn something." And that was all that she would say.

Veronica, amused, shook her head. "Well, I hope it's as much fun as we had with those bananas when you told me about the benefits of giving Neddy what you drolly call Lip Service. He loves that, by the way." (See the opening scene in, "The Crystal Skull of Xochilenque" on this board.)

Finn snickered. "Most guys do. Hey: how many eggs should I break? Do you want scrambled? George and Marguerite will."

After she had set the table with plates and silverware, Finn walked over to her gun belt, laying in a chair near the dining room table. She unsheathed her Bowie knife and checked the edge. Sharp, as always.

Veronica came out of the kitchen with cups and saw Finn like that, holding the knife and looking thoughtful.

Before she could ask for her thoughts, the Amazon princesses and the Roxtons came downstairs, trailed by Ned Malone.

After a hearty breakfast, Finn gathered the fruit and some twine and led the Amazons and Veronica downstairs.

She tied the fruit on long lines, hanging from the limbs of trees, and had someone swing the melon at her. As it came, she practiced sticking it, catching it on the tip of her knife.

Soon, all were playing this new game. Their laughter drifted up to the Treehouse, and Challenger and Roxton walked out onto the balcony and watched. Challenger shook his head and chuckled. "Women are so easily amused!"

Roxton grinned in agreement. "And a good thing for us lads, George. If they're playing down there, they aren't thinking of things for us to do!"

"Quite right, old chap," agreed the distinguished scientist. "And on that note, I believe that I'll have another cup of coffee before the ladies return."

"Capital idea, George!" agreed Roxton, and the gentlemen adjourned to the kitchen.

XXX

Down in the courtyard, the girls tied aging bananas on the lines and swung those at each other.

This time, the goal was to swiftly slash at the oncoming banana.
Different lengths of line were used, so that the target might come in from different heights.

Phoebe watched carefully as Finn slashed at one banana and cut it in two. She noted that Finn held her knife differently than most Amazons did, using more wrist motion, and allowing a quicker backslash with the sharpened false edge.

She got her descendent to show her how to do this, and Laralei also learned. They were impressed by the added lethality of this technique, and by the way the knife seemed alive in Finn's hand, and by her stance.

They studied the knife, and Finn explained that it had been made for her by Lord Roxton, who had learned knifemaking from a Sheffield-trained cutler who had worked on his parents' land when he was a lad. But the design was copied from her memory of an American handmade knife that she had seen in New Amazonia. It had come from a place called Orlando, Florida, and bore the name Randall Made on the blade.

The owner, who was very proud of it, said that it was hand forged, and was called a Model 1 All Purpose Fighting Knife, and it had been made since the Second World War for affluent soldiers and sportsmen. The handle of that one was a tough synthetic called black Micarta. Lacking this substance, Finn had asked Roxton for a dark rosewood handle, capped in nickle silver, to match the guard.

The only change she had made in the design was to eliminate the slight dip in the blade spine just before the guard. In fact, Randall offered such a knife as his Model 5, but Finn didn't know that, having never seen the custom cutler's catalog. (Search online for the Randall firm's address and URL. The company is very real, and has made knives for astronauts, generals, and prominent sportsmen.)

She did know how to use the knife, both defensively and for routine camp and survival needs. She liked it so well that she had beguiled Roxton into making her a spare, and she alternated between carrying first one, then the other. They were always kept sharp, courtesy of natural novalculite honing stones. Roxton had sewn a hone pocket to each knife's leather sheath, dyed black to match Finn's usual clothing.

Phoebe looked soberly at Veronica after seeing Finn slash and stab a melon. Veronica said, "Finn is like a sister to me, but I'm glad that she's on our side. I wouldn't want to get into a knife fight with her."

Laralei said, "That's for sure." She had picked up the expression from Finn and from Ned Malone.

Marguerite had walked out onto the balcony and seen what they were doing. She turned, and went back inside. "Blondes and their games," she sniffed.

XXX

Half an hour later, Challenger walked into the kitchen and found the ladies washing off and oiling their blades. They had buried the butchered fruit, to avoid leaving a mess that would attract flies and other pests, and be unsightly.

"Have fun, Darling? I saw you slicing that fruit. You looked very fierce." He leaned over and kissed her neck.

"It was a blast, Genius. I mean, we had fun. But there was a real purpose to that stuff."

"What was that, practice?" asked Roxton.

"Practice, yes. But for a particular purpose. If I ever need to stick a striking boa constrictor in the head, that sucker isn' t going to know what hit him!" Finn looked grim.

Roxton and Challenger looked at each other and at Veronica, who shrugged, polishing her knife on a piece of cloth.

"Don't you get it, guys?" Finn demanded. "Genius, if that ever happens again, I am NOT going to fail you. You need to be able to rely on me in an emergency."

"I see, " responded Challenger thoughtfully. " I feel sure that you will acquit yourself well if we ever encounter another attack by a large constrictor. Darling, does this mean that you feel better about yourself? Knowing that you have done what you can to be prepared?"

Finn nodded. "I still feel bad that I let you down, George. But I think I'll do better if there's ever a next time. I'll sleep better, knowing that I've practiced this. You need more from me than just a cute chick who can cut hair and cook and lay on her back with her legs spread. I need to be able to help when something bad comes at us. This place sucks when it comes to dangerous animals. And people. I need you, and you need to be able to rely on me. I want you to be able to be proud of me."

Challenger felt both humble and proud. He took the knife from Finn's hand and set it on the kitchen counter and drew her into his arms, taking care not to stretch his sore shoulder.

"Darling, I have never NOT been proud of you. But today, I think I will take you up to our room shortly. You need to spend some time on that pedestal to let you know just how very much I love and cherish you." He kissed her eyes, and she snuggled into him.

Marguerite cleared her throat, self conciously. "Is there any coffee left? I could do with a cup." But she looked admiringly at the Challengers, glad to see such genuine affection. I think I've found a home and friends whom I wish to know forever, she reflected. If only I knew what to do to make John want to make me a pedestal like theirs, and place me on it! I want to mean that much to him.

Roxton sensed what was in her mind, and turned her toward him.
"I'll get you that coffee, Marguerite. Go and sit while I make a new pot." He tipped her chin up and kissed her lips, smiling warmly down at her.

"What was that for?!" she exclaimed.

"It was for you," he replied. "And it was for us. I like being half of us."

"Oh, John," she gushed, barely stopping herself from crying happily. She wiped at her eyes. "I'll go wait for that coffee. Come sit with me while it brews?"

He nodded, caressing her hair. Marguerite walked out to the dining table, and she realized that she was glowing and that she was smiling. Life was good this morning.

XXX

Following lunch, the Treehouse dwellers set out to hunt, the Amazons promising to sit quietly as the others awaited game.

Challenger stayed in the Treehouse, his shoulder and bruised ribs and muscles troubling him. Finn stayed with him, washing his back as he showered and soaped his wound from the snake's teeth.

After, she dried his back and annointed the teeth marks with his antibiotic salve and bandaged the injury. Before they dressed, Finn massaged his sore muscles and he moaned as her fingers carressed the tender flesh along his ribs.

He swallowed a painkiller, then massaged Finn along her length as she lay on her tummy on their bed. She purred with delight, clowning, but expressing her pleasure.

"Seriously, Genius, how does it feel? Are you better? The inflamation around the tooth marks is better, but I bet it's still sore?"

"Alas, Darling, you are right: I still feel like Death warmed over. I think I ache more today than yesterday. But that is to be expected. Let's dress and go sit on the balcony and get some sun while we can. I think I'll leave my shirt off and 'catch some rays' as you sometimes phrase it."

"Nothing urgent in the lab?" she queried.

He shook his head. "No, even I know when it's best to stay away from the lab. In my present state, I might make an error. We can just sit and talk and enjoy some fruit juice. How long has it been since we have done that?"

She nuzzled his chest with her nose. "Suits, Lover. Sure that you aren't hurt really bad, though? It's rare for you not to insist on going to the lab."

Challnger chuckled. "My experiment today is to see how quickly I can heal. I'll take a binocular, and we'll look at the extraordinary panorama spread out below us. We may as well enjoy this world while we can, from a position of safety. I think, Finn, that this is the year that we will find a way off of this forsaken Plateau."

She looked up with interest. "Huh? How do you know that?!"

He shook his head. "Just a gut feeling, an instinct. And I think that in this new year, so recently begun, you will bear our first child. I felt this strongly, and mentioned it to Xma'Klee on the occasion of his last visit. He looked at me carefully, and said that he had come to tell me the same things. He had foreseen them in a vision." He shook his head irritably. "Probably just superstitious native rubbish, although I do not doubt that he believes it. Still, I have this odd sensation that these things will come to pass. Time will tell, of course."

Finn reached out and touched his good shouder. "George? I'll finish my current cycle of those birth control pills in a week. That's about how long it will take for you to be feeling normal again, I bet. Shall I stop the pills and see if Xma'Klee knew what he was talking about? "

He looked into her eyes and saw her willingness, even eagerness, to become the first mother in the Treehouse. "Stop the pills," he agreed. "Let's see if parenthood is in our near future."

She glowed and kissed him. "All we can do is try," she said. "I'll make it worth your while, as soon as you tell me that you feel up to it."

"Gives me an incentive to heal," he smiled. "Right now, put on some clothes and get your binocular, and let's go sit on the balcony."

And so they did, passing a happy two hours until they saw their friends returning. Laralei saw them looking down at them through their glasses, and she raised a hand, which she pumped up and down in triumph before pointing to a deer being carried on a pole between Roxton and Malone. She brandished a bow, pointing to herself, then to the deer.

Challenger and his mate looked at one another and smiled. "Looks as if your ancestor's cousin has been a successful huntress," he observed.

"Well, you know Amazons," she replied. "They do have a reputation for being good archers."

XXX

The days passed rapidly, with such games as javelin tossing, which Phoebe smirked about winning handily, until Roxton asked to compete.

He easily threw further and more accurately than she had, to all of the ladies' chagrin.

"Doesn't matter," Finn told her great, great grandmother. "We're all good enough, and we can kill cannibals or whatever with our skills. Johnny is just a showoff. " She stuck out her tongue at Lord Roxton, at which even Marguerite Krux laughed.

Veronica smirked, walked over to Marguerite, and handed her a javelin. "Let's see you beat any of us blonde girls, you smug Limey." She smiled, but Marguerite knew that the challenge was in earnest.

"You can do this, Darling," urged Roxton, squeezing her shoulder.

Marguerite made a face at Veronica. "Thanks very much, Jungle Girl. I'll remember to return the favor of this honor some day."

An idea occurred to her. She had found a way out. "I'm not actually dressed for this. You blonde exhibitionists all are. I shan't be able to throw this infernal stick after all." She smiled triumphantly.

Laralei scoffed. "Marguerite, you seek excuses. Just take off your skirt! Are you not hot in it, anyway? I don't see how you endure such clothing in this climate."

Challenger cleared his throat loudly, embarrassed for Marguerite.
"Princess, we Britons do have cultural issues..."

Veronica stopped him. "Oh, be reasonable, George! We've all seen what Marguerite has under her skirt. Well, almost all of it. You and Ned are the only ones who haven't seen the lot. Let John hold the skirt, Marguerite, and do your best with that javelin. If you can beat either me or Phoebe, I'll let you out of dusting the furniture this afternoon. I promise."

Marguerite stopped an angry retort, and looked thoughtful. "No dusting? All right, Veronica, you're on. John, come here and take my gun belt and skirt."

Roxton flushed red as he stepped over and accepted these items, feeling foolish with her skirt draped over his left arm.
But he managed to kiss her and wish her good luck.

"I won't need luck to beat this sorry crew, " she promised.

Everyone else laughed, but she did look confident as she studied the target, a grass-filled old pillowcase with a bullseye drawn on in paint from Veronica's stores.

She stepped up to the throwing line, backed off a few feet, then charged forward, casting the small spear.

It struck the pillowcase squarely. She backed off further, and did this again, now at greater distance than any of the other women had managed. Only Roxton had defeated her.

She sauntered casually back from retrieving the two javelins, and handed them to Phoebe, whose weapons they were.

"I don't believe that I've mentioned that I threw javelins at school, have I?" Marguerite was smug. "Actually, I sneaked out with two other girls and threw them with some lads who went to the boys' school affliated with ours. I was very competitive. I wanted to excel and be admired. Later, I found that ability to be useful on a couple of occasions. Never mind when and where. I don't seem to be very rusty, although I am out of practice."

She turned to Roxton. "Now, John, if you men will stop gawking at my admittedly splendid legs, may I have my skirt back?" She grinned insouciantly at her man, who was very impressed with this unsuspected ability on her part.

He held her arm as as she stepped into her skirt, fastened it and belted on her gun.

"I'll dust the furniture, Vee," offered Finn. "Marguerite, that was impressive. Will you coach me later? I want to get really good at this, in case I ever need to throw spears for real."

Marguerite was surprised, but flattered. "Certainly, Finnykins. And thanks for offering to dust. I so hate that! Housework is properly for maids." But she had to apologize, for her "sisters" normally did this, along with her, and none of the three considered themselves to be maids.

Princesses Phoebe and Laralei were even further from the concept of maids. They had female slaves to dust their rooms. But they were amused by Marguerite's pretensions. She was actually quite fun to know...

Later, they had afternoon coffee, which would have been afternoon tea, but they were more in the mood for coffee that day.

Venison sandwiches replaced the cucumber ones that they might have had in London, but as Roxton remarked, meat was more satisfying, anyway.

"Spoken like the true carnivore that you are, Darling John." Marguerite thought that venison sandwiches were sightly barbaric for the occasion. But only she sniffed at the idea. The others loved them, with Challenger's handmade mustard in the country Dijon style. He and Marguerite had worked out the recipe, of which they were fully proud. Mustard seeds grew in their garden, courtesy of Veronica's parents. Lettuce, radishes, and onions, as well as tomatoes also flourished there under Veronica's watchful eye. Sandwiches were no problem, and were often a delightful mid -afternoon snack. The venison was a good stand-in for roast beef.

Phoebe examined Finn's knife and asked where Roxton had gottten the iron ore for blades. He made his own steel in the forge, judging the blades by the color they took in the several stages of tempering. (The author has watched this being done at the school of bladesmithing of the American Bladesmith Society. It is an impressive process, if ancient.)

He explained that apart from a crashed aircraft, from which he had salvaged steel parts, they had found a source of iron ore that Challenger had assayed and found to be as pure as any from Sweden or used at Sheffield or Solingen, two cities famed for the quality of their blades. It was, in fact, the source of the iron used by Zanga smiths. whose work Roxton had easily exceeded. Other tribes on the Plateau also had sources of iron ore, and made good bladed implements, including the Amazons.

"Will you make me a knife such as this?" queried Phoebe. "I will pay well, in gold." She held it as Finn coached her, learning to control it largely with the thumb and two fingers, although the whole hand grasped the handle. She was surprised at how alive it was in her hand, once she had learned the moves.

"That blade is just six inches long," Finn explained. "My other knife is about the same, but has a seven-inch blade. I can't control a really large knife as well as the guys can, so they're plenty big enough for me. You might keep that in mind. We girls aren't meant to be using big Bowie knives or Roman pugio daggers." She had learned about the latter from illustrations in books and from Roxton's drawings and lectures, which so bored Marguerite, while entertaining Finn.

"If you ask me, 'we girls' aren't meant to be fighting with knives at all," muttered Ned Malone. "It's so unfeminine and unladylike. It reminds me of something that a gypsy or a prostitute from Puerto Rico or Mexico would know about."

"Now, Ned..." cautioned Challenger, sensing an implied criticism of Finn, of whom he was fiercely defensive on the few occasions when he felt a need.

"Hush while you're ahead, Honey," added Veronica with a smile. "After all, how long do you think I'd have stayed alive if I hadn't learned to use a knife?" She looked triumphantly at her man.

"Where is this Mexico?" Laralei wanted to know. "And that 'Porto Something'?"

Challenger explained, pointing out that Ned was from a place in America called New York, where such girls had emigrated, often illegally, and achieved an unsavory reputation among the Anglo inhabitants.

"And they are all prostitutes?" marvelled Phoebe. "Can they not get other work?"

That led to a brief discussion better explaining American social issues and pointing out that not all Latinas in the USA were of ill repute. Phoebe ended this by looking at Roxton and repeating her question. "Lord Roxton, will you make me one of these?" She flourished the knife.

"Please, John. It would mean a lot to me," Marguerite pleaded. She knew that this took a lot of hard work at a hot forge, as well as consummate skills. She, too, had been carrying a small Bowie knife similar to Finn's, but with an ivory and silver handle. Roxton had made her do this after she had gotten lost and found her switchblade pocketknife not fully adequate to the needs of jungle survival. (See, "On Her Own" in Mature-rated Fiction on this board.)

"I have some gold with me, surely more than enough," Phoebe repeated her offer.

Roxton smiled a smug masculine grin and leaned over to whisper to Marguerite, who blushed, but nodded.

"Yes, Princess, I will make you a knife, and one for Princess Laralei," confirmed the hunter. "And it will cost you nothing. You are our honored guests. Besides, Marguerite has just made me an offer beyond gold in value. In fact, coming from her, I treasure that fee above diamonds."

"What did she offer?" demanded a puzzled Laralei. From her seat beside Marguerite, she had not seen the look on the couple's faces.

"Never you mind!" shot Marguerite, coloring again.

"Oh," said Finn. "That. Men!" She and Veronica looked at one another and laughed.

"No wonder there are so many prostitutes of all races in this New York, if men there are like men here," smiled Phoebe. She and Finn looked at one another, to more laughter.

"You got it, Granny," chortled Finn.

"Don't call me 'Granny', Finn," bristled Phoebe. "I'm a whole year younger than YOU are!"

"Will you girls HUSH?!" Marguerite was scarlet with embarrassment as she complained about the reaction to Roxton's request. It was silly, for she would have done what he asked, knife or no knife. But his damned male pride, that horrid peacock macho image that men sported...still without that, men would be rather boring.

The issue decided, they did their afternoon chores and passed a pleasant evening, during the late stages of which Marguerite made what a bold John Roxton called a down payment on Phoebe's and Laralei's knives. He told her later, as they lay cuddled in one another's arms, that the payment had been very satisfactory.

"Had that been paid in gold, Marguerite, I daresay that it would assay as being a full 24 carat," he whispered into her ear as her head lay on his chest.

"I aim for perfection, Lord Roxton," she smirked, "But you say the sweetest things. Promise me something?"

"Caught at a moment like this, probably almost anything," he answered. "What does your heart desire?" He caressed her back and bottom, and she shivered in his arms, hunger for his touch almost unquenchable in her loins. She always marvelled that his hands could do this to her, like touching a match to a fuse. And if his touch lit fires in her erogenous zones, it even more swelled her heart, for she had come to know a genuine love for this wonderful man that exceeded any that she had once imagined could exist.

She smiled and told him what she wanted.

The next day, she watched with pleasure the looks on the faces of the other women as Roxton worked shirtless at the forge.

"That's all mine, girls, " she said to them, out of hearing of the other men. "Look, but don't touch!" And it was Marguerite who laughed, this time.

XXX

The days passed swiftly, with visits to the swimming pool in the river, hunts that built bonds between the guests and the Treehouse dwellers, and a dance or two, in which the Amazons performed well, once they got over the feeling that the way the women danced for the men was too like what they had slave girls perform for male visitors in Amazonia.

"I'm never telling that I did this," remarked Phoebe, clad in a brief yellow loincloth and halter top. "But I feel very sexy, and I love the way that the men look at us. You ladies have discovered a way to gratify your egos while giving these fellows eyestrain!" She laughed.

"It's no strain at all, Princess, " remarked Ned. "My eyes find this to be very restful."

"I noticed that," said Laralei, a little sharply. She felt very self concious in her pink dance costume, but had to admit that she also liked being appreciated. Still, she felt rather ...exposed. The thing that frightened her was that she liked it. In fact, she feared that she and Phoebe were being seduced into enjoying being very feminine. Not always the best self image for a fierce Amazon warrior, let alone an Amazon princess.

"I shall miss you, Phoebe," intoned Challenger, trying to keep a straight face. "When you dance here, I can stare at you and not worry that Finn will become jealous, because I can always claim that I mistook you for her. Thus, I can especially admire both of you ladies."

"Well, that's certainly progress on your part, George," remarked Marguerite. "There was a day when you admired mainly bugs and germs under your microscope. I wasn't sure that you were even aware of me as a woman." She looked mischievously at the eminent scientist as he weathered the laughter of the assembly, who all thought this comment to be rather funny. Even Finn smiled, although she moved to hold his arm to comfort him.

Finally, the day had come for their return to Amazonia. The princesses thanked Roxton for their fine new knives, ready by then, and bade him and Marguerite farewell, as they were remaining at the Treehouse while the rest of the crew escorted the Amazons to their own lands.

Then, they got underway, early on a relatively cool morning.

XXX

Their journey led them past a river, where they heard violent splashing. Seeking the cause, they found a big anaconda, the yellow phase of the giant snake, locked in mortal combat with a caiman. The alligator-like reptile was wrapped in the iron coils of the big constrictor, and it was evident which way the battle would end.

Nonetheless, they stood transfixed until the snake disappeared with the dead caiman. Then, they breathed sighs of awe and relief that none of them had ever been seized by one of these large constrictors. Challenger shivered as he recalled his experience with the smaller boa constrictor, and Finn took his hand and squeezed it in sympathy, knowing what must be in his mind.

They passed the remains of a duckbilled dinosaur, probably a hadrosaur, where a Tyrannosaurus rex had been feeding. Veronica showed them the tracks leading to the dead animal, which indicated that two T-rexes had fed, probably a mated couple or two young males. Pterodactyl scavengers were still on the kill, and the princesses were loaned binoculars to watch the ungainly beasts at their repast. Later, vultures and ants would finish whatever scraps of meat were not taken by the larger pterodactyls.

They passed hurriedly from this place, which was on open savannah near a small lake. They did not want to be out in the open longer than necessary, where they might be seen by foes, either two-legged or four- legged.

Once in the forest again, they travelled without incident, dragging three travois loaded with food, and the Amazon girls' belongings, including gifts from the Treehouse. One travois carried supplies for the explorers' return trip to the Treehouse.

Camped the first night, they heard the rattling call of a big jaguar not far away and kept their weapons near to hand as they cowered in the dark, aware that if the big cat attacked, one or more of them might be taken before others could save them. At night, in the jungle, humans were relatively helpless.

Challenger set watches, taking the first himself. Finn insisted on sitting up with him, the couple back-to-back, their rifles ready. The princesses drew the final watch, when most night hunting carnivores had already made their kills. Phoebe speared a passing opposum, and they added its meat to their breakfast rations.

"Thank God for coffee, " muttered Veronica as she strugged to wake after limited sleep. She and Ned had taken the middle watch, and she was tired, not having slept well all night. She kept seeing danger in the shadows and in each rustle in the bushes. Ned, on the other hand, had slept like the proverbial log, and she was a little cross with him over this.

Finally, they reached their rendezvous point and discovered waiting Amazons under Hippolyta, ready to escort the princesses home. They wore their usual leather battle garb, ready for any dangers that might intrude.

This story now merges with, "The Amazon Revelations", and must end. But perhaps it would lead to further adventures. New friendships had been forged, and who knew when Challenger would discover new needs for the copper that had originally brought the explorers to the land of the Amazons? And as Phoebe noted, she wanted to see again the great-great granddaughter who was a year older than she herself was! And Ned certainly wanted to see his child by Phoebe. All knew they'd see one another again, and looked forward to it. The visit had beeen a success, and that's all that one can hope for when guests arrive!

The End