Owen Burgoyne
Chapter 2: The Island
The explorers set out on their journey. After many days sailing, their ship caught sight of land. This was somewhat of a relief to Herringsway who had never been on a boat before; he had learned about seasickness the hard way.
The ship, a merchant vessel bound for the Agatean Empire, had agreed to take them to the island they had heard so much about. Were the stories true? Stories of monkeys with rings on their tails? Lizards that sunbathed on the beach? To Herringsway, this all sounded like something he'd read in a book. This was probably the case since he'd spent most of his life reading things from books anyway. It explained his pallid complexion.
Of course, Kevin, only a few years older than himself, had already discovered a new breed of pig, so anything was possible.
And so, the ship had arrived at the island and the explorers, using a small wooden rowboat, landed on a white sandy beach. At the fringes of the mass of tropical forest stood tall palm trees, swaying in the gentle breeze. And beyond the palm trees was nothing but a dark green mass of foliage.
"Right then chaps," said the General, "we have an island. Now let's go and claim it for Civilization!" With that, General Blest held up his walking stick, let out what can only be called a battle cry, and charged towards the undergrowth.
Herringsway stood there and stared. "Wh-wh-wh...?" he stuttered.
"Oh, it's just something Edward does," said Mr Michelmas. "Ever since his military service, he's thought surprise was the best form of attack."
"But who's he attacking? I thought we were explorers," said Herringsway.
"Haven't a bloody clue who he's attacking to be honest. Never have," said Jones. "Scares them bloody big wild cats away though."
"W-wild cats?" said Herringsway, his voice sounding both shaken and stirred.
Jones saw this as an ideal opportunity for a bit of fun. "Oh yes, great big ones; with fangs as long as your fingers. Some of 'em get as big as that boat." He pointed to the old rowing boat sat at the edge of the beach. "Eat you as soon as look at you, they will." Herringsway was visibly trembling.
"Now, now Jonesy," said Michelmas. "Don't start putting things into the young lad's head. It's his first expedition and we don't want to start giving him the willies."
"All right," sighed Jones.
A twig from the forest cracked, and three of them looked up. Kevin was sat down on the beach, drawing things in the sand. Out of the green darkness walked Blest. "Well, I think we should have a quiet journey through the forest. You should see those animals run! You'd think I was a damned monster or something!"
Jones laughed to himself.
"Well then?!" bellowed General Blest. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"
For three hours, the expedition trekked through the dense jungle, General Blest hitting things with his walking stick as they went. So far, it had been uneventful.*
"Shouldn't we have found something by now?" enquired Herringsway.
Jones, who was walking behind him, sighed. "Y'know, every bloody time we go somewhere with the old bastard, we always get lost. 's good thing we got young Kevin here, he's the only one who seems to know where to bloody go."
Kevin, walking next to Blest, held a compass. As he walked, he just stared at the small dial, oblivious to all around him. Suddenly, he stopped, lifted his head and sniffed the air. Tugging at Blest's jerkin, he pointed at another similar-looking part of the jungle.
"What's that lad? Think you've found something?" said the General.
Kevin looked at Blest and nodded.
"Right then, gentleman," said Blest. "This way!"
* A chance meeting with an interestingly-striped and angry wild cat had been a highlight, until it saw the imposing figure of General Blest and decided that hanging around might not be a good idea.
The hours passed and the group seemed to be going nowhere. The General strode ahead of the others, pipe in mouth, stick in hand.
"You know what we need?" said General Blest.
"No," said Jones, sarcastically. "What do we need?"
"We need a damned good drink."
"Oh, that'd be helpful, wouldn't it?" said Jones, stopping. "And what good would a drink be? We're stuck out here in the middle of the jungle on a strange island, and you want a drink. Bloody marvellous!"
"Now listen here, Taffy--" began Blest, still walking ahead.
"I told you not to call me that," snapped Jones.
"He did, you know," said Mr Michelmas. "Now come on Edward, be fair. That time with the young girl and the jar of treacle in Bes Pelargic is something we said we'd never talk about again."
"What young girl?" asked Herringsway.
Jones shot a look at Michelmas, then at Herringsway.
"Sorry," said Herringsway.
"Yes, I am sorry," said Mr Michelmas. "We won't mention it aga--"
There was a thud to the left of the group, followed by the kind of sound that can only be created by twanging a wooden ruler on the edge of a school desk. The explorers slowly turned in unison to see an arrow embedded into a tree trunk.
It was still vibrating.
"Ah! Excellent!" said General Blest. "Natives!"
"Great..." sighed Jones. "Natives."
As the intrepid group of explorers trudged through the dense heat of the jungle, the thought of unruly natives hidden in the deep green foliage began to send shivers up Herringsway's spine.
"So these, er, natives," said Herringsway. "Any chance that they might be a little bit dangerous?"
"No chance of them being a little bit dangerous at all," said Blest, still walking ahead. "They'll either be completely harmless or incredibly dangerous."
Herringsway could feel the jungle closing in on him. He was sure he could see eyes peering out from between the giant leaves.
"I remember those bloody savages we met a few years ago," said Jones. "You know, the ones that lived in that walled city."
Michelmas glared at Jones. "Alwyn, that was the Agatean Empire! One of the most civilized places on the Disc! To them we must have looked like barbarians!"
"They gave us bloody sheep's eyeballs to eat! That's hardly civilized is it?"
"But you seemed to enjoy yourself there."
"And we all remember what happened in Bes Pelargic, don't we?" added Blest.
Jones shot a look at Blest. "Now I told you not to--"
"Yes, yes," interrupted the General. "Now we really must be getting along. We have an untouched civilization to find!"
The group walked along in silence for another twenty minutes when, all of a sudden, Kevin stopped and cocked his head to one side.
"What is it boy?" asked General Blest. "Heard something have you?"
Kevin nodded and pointed in the direction of another identical-looking part of the jungle.
"Good lad," said Blest, and plunged on into the dense greenery.
The others just stood there, listening. They could hear nothing but the rustle of undergrowth and the occasional growl of a wild animal that had just made contact for the very first time with the walking stick of General Edward Blest.
Suddenly there was a distant yell of "Bloody hell!"
"That was Edward," said Michelmas. "Quick!"
The remaining explorers darted off in the direction of Blest's voice.
"Grumble in the Jungle" is copyright (C) Owen Burgoyne 2002. Discworld (R) is a trade mark registered by Terry Pratchett. All the characters in this story are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.