Two Brothers Under the Sun
Chapter – XXIII
The Earthen Drum
Outer Stems, Wakalu, northeastern Bukuuvu
The roots of the Ugani go deep like those of the Green Mother and they can feel this stretch of land they called home in the blood pounding inside their veins. The Great Troop roamed along numerous trails within a territory extending, roughly, twenty-five miles along the Eastern Bank of the Dirisha and some fifty miles across the jungle's northeastern hinterlands surrounding the Wakalu. This trek was traversed almost continually, although occasionally the gorillas would settle in one locality for many nights. Their stay dependent upon the local availability of food, climatic conditions, the prevalence of competitors from other species, and the occasional unforeseen danger.
At night they slept where darkness overtook them, lying on the ground, and sometimes covering their heads, and more seldom their bodies, with the great leaves of the elephant's ear. Everybody knew everybody else in the Troop as family, friends, or acquaintances at the very least, so the apes had few qualms when they had to huddle up together before sleeping. Two or three might lie cuddled in each other's arms for additional warmth if the night were chill, and thus even Tarzan, by now an adult by both man and ape standards, still comfortably slept next to his mother and cousin whenever he decided to spend the night in the vicinity of the Green Mother over staying with the rest of his family in the lowlands.
However, this was all about to change.
The group had grown larger since Tarzan had come among them, for under the leadership of Kerchak they had plenty to eat and little or no loss from predatory incursions of neighbors. Hence the younger males as they became adults found it easier to set themselves up as the new protectors of the Troop. Occasionally, some Black Backs from a new batch would fight with their seniors to test themselves, but none had come yet who could wrest the palm of victory from the mighty Silverback leaders.
Tarzan's position in the Troop was a peculiar one. They seemed to consider him one of them and yet in some way different. Either way, they could tell Kala's little Man-Cub was gone like their younglings from the same age range.
On the day he and the other youngsters established their right to respect, the Troop was gathered about a small natural amphitheater that the Green Mother had left free from its entangling vines and creepers in a hollow among some low hills. The open space was almost circular in shape. Upon every side rose the mighty giants of the untouched forest, with the matted undergrowth banked so closely between the huge trunks that the only opening into the little, level arena was through the upper branches of the trees. Here, safe from interruption, the Troop often gathered. In the center of the amphitheater was one of those strange earthen drums that the Ugani cleared up for rites such as these.
An occasional passerby would have seen the drums of the great apes, and many more have heard the sounds of their beating and the noise of the wild, unique revelry of these beasts of the jungle, but Tarzan is, doubtless, the only human being who ever joined in the fierce, mad, intoxicating revel of the Dum-Dum. Since their arrival from the Theluji, the gorillas danced out their rites to the sound of their earthen drums, beneath the bright light of the moon passing through the thick canopy of the Wakalu. The Dum-Dum marked important events in the life of the gorilla troops-a victory, the death or ascension of a king... and the rise of a fresh batch of Black Backs.
On the night Tarzan won his emancipation, the great apes trooped silently through the lower terrace of the jungle trees and dropped noiselessly upon the floor of the amphitheater. The mighty bulls entered the arena, squatting before the earthen drum beside it as guards, while the other members of the community curled themselves in grassy nooks to make themselves comfortable until the rising moon should give the signal for the commencement of the bout. Duels and mock battles were a common sight in the vicinity, but this wasn't to be a game. While everyone made ready for the ceremony, Tarzan was receiving a few pointers before he could take his place in the drum.
"Alright, remember, these guys are soft bucks," Baloo stated as he stood behind his hairless godson, rubbing Tarzan's shoulders while Pumbaa fanned him with a big frond. "Come on, you can run circles around them."
"Keep the blows low and inside, most of them are not that intelligent either." Terk coached her cousin/favorite wrestling partner.
Kala put a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. "Are you nervous?"
"Phew. Excited." Tarzan kept his eyes open, feasting his gaze upon the place where he was to take his next step as a member of the Great Troop. The first time he came there, he was a man-cub. His mother had to carry him up the treetop trail on her shoulders. He wanted to climb on the drum, but his hands were too small to climb the rocky formation. The Mangani of generations past were among the first of the great apes to lay eyes on these drums. Their descendants have crossed these woods since then. This land was in their blood. And now it was up to Tarzan to show he was no different from them in that respect.
"Ooh, you should be." She giggled. This was to be the most important moment in her son's young life so far; for a mother of the Great Troop of Bukuvu, few joys could compare to hers at the moment. "It's your big day."
Two pairs of eyes watched from afar on top of the trees. Per custom, fathers and teachers brought their sons/proteges here, just like theirs had done to them in the past, so they could prove themselves through the Troop's rite of passage. Tarzan came in with Bagheera and Simba until the pair had to move aside from the apes' line. They now stood as far as they could go while still getting a good view of the amphitheater. After all these years, that was the full extent of the courtesies Kerchak was willing to offer the two big cats.
"They sure are taking their time, uh?" Simba remarked while stretching himself. For quite a while they had been sitting there, the nightly silence around them only broken by the discordant notes of brilliantly feathered birds, or the screeching and twittering of the thousand jungle bats flitting ceaselessly amongst the vivid orchids and colorful blossoms that festooned the myriad, moss-covered branches of the Ugani.
"The ceremony starts only at the light of the full moon." Bagheera shifted his attention between the night sky, where the clouds obscured the moon from view, and his disciple near the arena's vicinity. The panther had long awaited the coming of this day. "Be patient. Today is about Tarzan's future. To be one of the Troop, he has to prove he can fight with the Troop."
"Yeah, the gorillas' great Coming of Age Ceremony." Simba sighed a little bit testy, he was happy for his brother but they had been talking about the occasion all week and the young lion was starting to get tired of hearing the same things over and over again. "What do they call it?" He asked, feigning ignorance. "A Dum-Dum?"
Bagheera, catching on, was about to retort when something in the air stood still. At length, as darkness settled upon the jungle the apes commenced to bestir themselves, and soon they formed a great circle about the earthen drum. The females and young squatted in a thin line at the outer periphery of the circle, while just in front of them ranged the adult males.
"That's our cue, folks." Baloo addressed the others in the group, minus Tarzan. "Let's make it like the wind and blow."
"Good luck, T." Timon offered his best wishes to his godson as he and the others prepared to leave.
"We will be rooting for you!" Pumbaa proudly declared.
After receiving one last pat on the back plus a supportive smile from his mother, the White Ape looked far across the treeline in the direction of his teacher and brother to see them giving him their approving nods, with the young lion even throwing in a 'claws up.'
Now, more than ever, the young man felt ready.
Before the drum sat three old females, each armed with a knotted branch fifteen or eighteen inches in length. Slowly and softly they began tapping upon the resounding surface of the drum as the first faint rays of the ascending moon silvered the encircling tree tops. As the light in the amphitheater increased the females augmented the frequency and force of their blows until presently a rhythmic din pervaded the great jungle for miles in every direction. Those with up-pricked ears and raised heads stopped to listen to the dull booming that betokened the Dum-Dum of the apes.
As the din of the drum rose to almost deafening volume Kerchak sprang into the open space between the squatting males and the drummers. Standing erect he threw his head far back and looking full into the eye of the rising moon he beat upon his breast with his great hairy paws and emitted his fearful roaring shriek. One-twice-thrice that terrifying cry rang out across the teeming solitude of the Outer Stems. By the time he had finished, the noise of the drums ceased, the female drummers scampering through the line of males toward the outer rim of squatting spectators. Then, crouching, Kerchak slunk noiselessly around the open circle, veering the new recruits lying before the altar drum, but, as he passed, kept his little, fierce, intimidating, yellow eyes upon them.
This day meant a lot for him too. Tonight, the Troop celebrated its greatness, its strength, and the most promising of those who would join their battle ranks. After sparing a glance at them all, and giving the White Ape a particularly lingering one, he made his way to the treetops surrounding the clearing, where all Silverbacks would watch the rite.
The Chief sat down and the youths started climbing. When all the juvenile males had joined in a thin circle at the summit of the drum, the attack commenced.
One of the males sprang into the arena, repeating the horrid cries of his Chief Silverback, and followed stealthily by others in his wake. Another and another joined in quick succession until the jungle reverberated with the now almost ceaseless notes of their blood-curdling screams. Some seized a weapon from the pile of clubs which lay at hand for the purpose, and rushed furiously upon their chosen adversaries, exchanging terrific blows, at the same time emitting the growls and snarls of combat. The din of the drum returned with a vengeance, aided by the stomps of each of the soon-to-be Black Backs moving across the arena, the bodies slamming down upon the ground, and numerous bludgeon blows that missed their mark and fell upon the empty space. While they increased the frequency of their attacks, the young bulls started a mad whirl akin to some kind of War Dance, reenacting the thrill of battle.
Tarzan was in the middle of the leaping horde. His brown, sweat-streaked, muscular body, glistening in the moonlight, shone supple and contrastingly among his hairy troopmates around him. From their seats in the audience, his family was tracking him clearly
"Look out for the-" Timon looked away for a total of two seconds before turning back to watch, causing him to breathe out in an equal amount of surprise and relief. "Oh, that was a nice one!"
"He is up! No, wait, he is down! No, he is up! No, he is down!" According to the young man's performance, Baloo's tone changed between cheerful and anxious.
"Whoa, that's gotta hurt." Pumbaa cringed momentarily then adverted: "Look out!"
Baloo's words were on point. Tarzan raced swiftly through the arena, dodging and grappling anyone that took a swing at him; moving up and then down. One time, he skidded beneath one of the fighters and passed harmlessly under him, much to the giant's surprise. Tarzan was fast on his feet, fast enough to disorient the others with his evasive maneuvers. Whenever he could, he moved away from the action to catch his breath before diving right in again. Crowds cheered on the sidelines while the fights carried on. His family snapped their heads at any glimpse of brown among the great ape horde. Thanks to his size, it wasn't hard for someone like him to vanish in the free-for-all without a trace. Meanwhile, the gorillas collided against each other, headbutted each other, and puffed up their chests while standing tall to make themselves more impressive to their adversaries and the spectators. Some got creative and propelled themselves to deliver some incredibly powerful flying kicks. Tarzan couldn't resist trying some of those himself. Some of the onlookers stared on in awe, speechless. A sudden blow brought the white ape down. The crowd got a bit agitated, especially in the corner from where his family was watching. Tarzan quickly shook his head to regain his bearings, just in time to escape Moyo's grasping hands.
Simba yelped at the beast that towered above his brother, then switched to look at his teacher. "Do you know that one?"
"A Bolgani," Bagheera told him. "Hard to forget them after fighting one of theirs at a river crossing."
Tarzan stared at Moyo, sizing up the Bolgani warrior. No match-up in the arena was more unbalanced at first glance.
Tarzan knew that, in many ways, he differed from his troopmates; his cunning was superior for one, but in strength and size he was deficient. Some adults stood over six feet in height, while Tarzan was still half their size. Still too small to win a test of strength against a gorilla. However, none in the drum was more stealthy in his movements than him, none swifter against the ferocity of the attackers, and none leaped so high into the air like a lake frog. All the lessons he had learned were about to be put to the test. Moyo was bigger than him, but he was small compared to the horde of fighters around them. So, little Tarzan fell back and giant Moyo pursued.
The White Ape's agile body wormed its way far into the mass of struggling, rending apes to lure his enemy into following him and display his strength before the Troop. At his side hung the wooden fang in a sheath self-fashioned in a grassy copy of the skin layer he always had covering the lower part of his abdomen. He fooled Moyo into thinking he was going left but he took the right path, putting a barrier of gorillas between him and the Bolgani. Moyo's head swiveled as he kept track of the hairless ape, spying on Tarzan as the boy emerged from the clawing, pushing throng with that makeshift pouch attached firmly to his body. But his target saw him quicker and, divining what the great beast would do, he leaped nimbly into the brawling mass, hoping to hide himself among them. Moyo, however, was close upon his heels, so that he had no opportunity to seek a place of concealment.
Swiftly, Tarzan sped toward the middle of the melee, each bound putting greater distance between him and Moyo. The other fighters paid little mind to him, those who did quickly switched their attention back to more impressive opponents. Moyo roared as he grabbed a boulder and lifted it over his head; a clear display of intimidation to any who came forth to stand in his way. Perched on the pinnacle of the forest's lofty monarchs, the Silverbacks were also on the alert for the strongest, fiercest, and toughest Black Backs in this year's batch. Moyo's horrifying screams and roars showed he intended to outdo all others. So, he rushed into the thick of battle. The great bulls in the center of the arena felt the mighty fists of their mighty fellow and, in a couple of minutes, they found themselves melting into the black shadows of the overhanging forest where Moyo tossed them.
As Tarzan wriggled out from beneath the shrinking mass, he clutched his weapon close to his chest. This one he had fashioned himself, its end blunt like the clubs of the Ugani, but more compact in its size. It wouldn't last in a clash against its peers but the youth knew how to use it in a fight.
Right on cue, he saw the Bolgani was gaining on him.
By instinct, he leaped into the air to grasp a low-hanging branch almost over the head of Moyo, so nearly had he distanced him. As Tarzan expected, there soon was a rending, tearing sound, the thin branch broke and he dropped upon the gorilla's head with the rapidity of a falling stone, knocking him to the ground. Having never worn shoes, Tarzan's feet were almost as hard as horns. Both apes were up in an instant but. as quick as they had been, Tarzan had been quicker so that the infuriated bull found himself facing the man's club which stood between him and total victory.
There was no one left in the amphitheater but the two males.
"Oh boy." Timon gulped in worry for his godson.
"Keep down, Timon," Kala, doing a better job hiding her own concern, spoke from beside him and Pumbaa. "Kerchak's going to announce the last fight."
"We follow the rules of our ancestors." Rising his voice, the Chief Silverback pointed at the great monarch opposing the one he and his fellow Silverbacks were currently on. "The combatants will climb into the tree; the first one out of combat, to touch the ground, or tap out loses, and the one remaining in the tree is the Champion." He looked between the two apes left standing. "Tarzan. Moyo. Take your positions."
Moyo made his way up the trunk while Tarzan opted to use the tree's vines to reach its crown.
"May the best ape win... that's Tarzan by the way," Terk called out in the crowd.
The bulls had proved themselves. They all had made it past the rite... but there could only be one winner.
Once they had positioned themselves in the branches across from one another, both fighters met face-to-face without wavering under the other's gaze. Had Tarzan been a full-grown bull ape of the species of his Troop he would have been more than a match for the Bolgani, but being only a young man, though well in shape for such, he stood no chance against his opponent. His muscles, though, were the final product of years of training alongside some of the fiercest warriors of the jungle. He knew no fear, not since his battles against the red dogs in his youth. But his heart beat faster from the excitement and exhilaration of adventure. When the opportunity presented itself he evaded his adversaries, but solely because his judgment told him he was no match for the great apes which confronted him. And since reason showed him that a successful flight was impossible at the moment, he met the gorilla squarely and bravely without a tremor of a single muscle or any sign of panic.
'ROAR"
Kerchak's thunderous roar cued Tarzan and Moyo into a headlong rush.
The White Ape met the Great Ape midway in its charge, striking its huge body with his closed fists as futilely as if he were a fly attacking an elephant. Moyo, striking and biting, closed upon him. The gorilla, fighting after the manner of its kind, sent terrific blows with its clenched hand, and snapped his mighty tusks at Tarzan of the Mangani. For a moment, they rolled upon the branches in the fierce frenzy of combat before separating and engaging each other in an almost blurry exchange of fists. The man was no match to a wrestling gorilla, that couldn't be helped. But this jungle man knew how to weave.
"Give it to him, kid!" Baloo stood on his feet, hoping to get Tarzan to hear him. "Jab with your left! Then swing with your right, and then-"
"Ha-ha!" Moyo cackled at the ursine. "Yes, keep shouting what he's gonna do next!"
Baloo promptly shut himself up.
Moyo roared in Tarzan's face. Pumbaa and Timon covered their eyes as Kerchak maintained his gaze upon the two mismatched primates.
Then, with a single bound, Moyo dived straight toward the white-skinned ape. Nothing could have suited the skinny beast better. Tarzan's legs suddenly sprung, allowing him to leap right over the Bolgani's head. Although the latter's fangs came pretty close to the former's nut-brown flesh. Moyo swiveled his body and went for the white ape, Tarzan faced him head-on once again. A near-hairless, muscular hand shot out and grasped a hairy forearm, and another clasped the gorilla's hand just before two broad chests slammed together like the battle crowns of two great bucks. Supporting himself on the ape's grasp, Tarzan rotated his body to deliver a powerful kick to Moyo's face, blindsiding the gorilla before knocking him off his feet with a round kick from down below. The Bolgani fell a few levels but regained his grip on the tree before he could fall to the amphitheater. Seeing him returning to the higher branches, Tarzan moved to intercept his opponent. But Moyo was quick to crush the bough he was standing on with a single blow.
Down below with the crowd and further into the surrounding grove, the young man's family gasped.
Thinking fast, Tarzan wrapped himself around the falling branch and aimed it toward the ground. When the oversized stick hit the drum, the pointy end impaled itself into a hole in the earthen ground.
"Can he do that?" One of the Silverbacks quirked an eyebrow.
"Somebody better check the rules," Sokwe remarked in his usual good humor as he saw Tarzan immediately jump back to the trunk, ready to continue his fight.
"Come on, Hairless Wonder!" cheered Timon. "You can do it, beat him up good!"
"Tarzan! Tarzan! He's our Man! He can do it. Yes, he can!" Pumbaa chanted.
Tarzan bared his fang and, soon, he and Moyo were at it again. Each and every branch the white ape sprung to evade the Bolgani's strikes was broken apart by the latter's powerful punches. Like lightning, Moyo's blows fell and didn't cease even as he felt the wood crumple beneath him. Tarzan was running circles around his opponent, attacking when he least expected before nimbly gliding through the spaces between the branches to elude the giant. Moyo saw what he was doing. He couldn't do what he was doing, but he could make sure he would run out of escape routes sooner or later.
"Sure looks like there's a gorilla inside of him," Simba smirked as he watched his brother dominate the fight. Even if the young man was visibly on the defensive, the lion knew better from all the lessons they had together. His brother was waiting for an opening. "Tarzan is the treetop tag master."
After a few more moments playing a quite intense game of tag, Tarzan took a moment to ask: "Had enough?"
Moyo certainly had enough. His fists grew tired from crushing wood while he panted heavily to catch his breath. He was leaning on the trunk to support himself by now. Nevertheless, he managed one last pounce.
Tarzan pulled back a heavy bough and let it go once Moyo got right on his face, the branch recoiled into position and hit the gorilla full-force. Recovering surprisingly fast, Moyo also broke that wooden limb with a punch, to which Tarzan responded by propelling over the gorilla's stretched arm and sending the heavy end of his club straight to the Bolgani's noggin. As Moyo's now limp body rolled to the tree's section where its trunk spread into branches, Tarzan placed his foot upon the back of his downed opponent and, raising his eyes to the full moon as he beat his chest, threw his head up and voiced the wild and terrible cry of his own creation.
"YAAH! YAAH! YAAH!"
It took all of his family's combined willpower not to deadpan or roll their eyes at that.
Yeah, he still had a lot to learn.
One by one the just emancipated juveniles emerged from around the drum and climbed back into the flat rocky formation in a great assembly. Once the latter had snapped out of his slumber, Tarzan and Moyo swung down from their arboreal fighting ring and found their seats directly in the front ranks. All in the crowd had their attention on Tarzan and the newly-marked Black Backs. When they had all come, the youths turned toward the Silverbacks.
Kerchak stood tall above them.
"Look well, Ugani." He commanded. "You are about to embark on a great journey. Starting today, you are all warriors of the Troop. You have come a long way. It is now time for you to make your own path and take responsibility for yourselves. When each of you has come of age, your backs will reveal our mark. They are a proud sign of your growth. But to truly deserve it, you must never forget the Law of the Green Mother... as old and as true as the sky. The one that keeps it may prosper... but the one that breaks it will die. It's one of the Laws of the Jungle; many and mighty are they: but the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is - Obey. For like the creeper that girdles the tree trunk... the Law runneth over and back."
He swooped down to address his new brothers-in-arms. Moving and circling them, sometimes bounding on his next step as he hollered; he wanted their attention and he had it.
"Let me hear the Law!" Kerchak commanded in front of the gathered group as he rose to his feet, standing so huge that he towered over the entire batch of new Black Backs.
Looking full into the sharp, yellow eyes of the Chief Silverback, a young man stood tall, puffed up his chest, clenched his fists, banged them against his upper half, and unleashed the cry of the bull ape. His peers did the same. Tarzan found himself trying his best so his shrill yet triumphant cry could be heard.
"APES ALONE WEAK. APES TOGETHER STRONG!" The Black Backs recited in high energy and the rest of their troopmates followed suit. From the Silverbacks to the senior Black Backs, from the mothers to the children sitting on their laps, all lent their voices to the chant. Cries of joy and reverence echoed across the amphitheater as Tarzan raised his chin.
Against the odds, the man-cub prevailed. In his place, emerges a Black Back ape.
"Let the protection of our home guide you through your lives."
Done that, the return of the drumbeats announced the beginning of the Ugani's celebration. As the noise and rapidity of the rumbling increase, the dancers are swept up in the excitement of their frenzied rhythm and hollering chants. Their leaps and bounds increased and their fangs proudly bared. Occasionally, the Golden Lion would raise his thunderous roar in answer to a challenge in the din of the great apes, but neither he nor Bagheera (who held an aversion towards loud cacophonies such as these) came near to interrupt, for they had a deep respect for their jungle neighbors and just the sight of their victorious, hairless friend amongst the dancers filled their chests with joy. Tarzan, for his part, danced with a puffed chest and so considerable swagger that he quite impressed most of his Black Backs peers, while his family danced for joy and pride. In a short time, he went to join them so they all could dance together. There was food too. Cabbage palm and gray plum, pisang, and scitamineae which was found in abundance in these parts, with wild pineapple, and plenty of insects gathered from the hives and nests scattered along the gorillas' territory. The nuts they cracked between their powerful jaws, or, if too hard, broke by pounding between stones. A banquet fit for the finale of their revel.
Tarzan of the Great Troop lived his days after the ceremony with little change, only that he grew stronger and wiser as he learned more and more about the matted forest he called home. Even so, life was never monotonous or stale. Although he usually followed what few rules his guardians set for him and Simba, the young man became a bit of a rebel after he reached what men would call adolescence. Keeping up with his old youngling routine, he would wake up early so he could sneak away from the watchful eyes of his guardians. The Great Apes were astir in the morning; moving through the Wakalu's surroundings in search of food, they scattered by ones, twos, and threes in all directions, but ever within earshot of a signal of alarm. Be it up or downriver, few intruders dared to trespass into the jungles where Tarzan's family roamed, and fewer stayed after proving themselves to be ill-intentioned. Thus, much of the local area was free for the pinkish ape to walk by in solitude if he so wished.
But, more often than not, he preferred to make something of his free time.
Leaping from one tree to the other, Tarzan wandered far into the dense, forested mazes to the west. Stopping momentarily, he surveyed the trees in the area until he found just the one he was looking for. That one with a slender branch was just what he needed. He lurched himself to the side and grabbed the tree's appendage right on the perfect section to break it off. This was a tough branch, he soon realized, it barely bulged even as he used all his body weight to pull the thing down. In hopes of applying more force, he fully wrapped his limbs around the branch and started shaking vigorously.
'CREAK'
His plan worked, the branch came down... with him latched to it.
A fraction of a second was just what he needed to push the limb away, get ahold of a nearby vine, and swing across the verdant grove. The rushing feeling of the wind on his face coupled with the soaring view he was getting from this tiny portion of his jungle home rendered the white ape so mesmerized he didn't even notice where he was going.
"Watch out for that tree!"
Simba's surprise warning was too late.
'THUMP' "OW!" 'THUMP'
After crashing face-first into another tree's trunk, he lands on a bush. Getting back to his feet, Tarzan massages his bruised back.
"My back... my back!"
Right next to him, the Golden Lion was wearing a pouch made of grass around his neck, carrying some coconuts. "Can we offer a drink for the dashing Black Back?" Simba smirked at his blood brother. "Enough playing on the branches, come and enjoy a nice juicy coconut instead."
Tarzan ignored his teasing tone as he came to join the big cat. "How did you know I was here?"
"That bare skin of yours reveals you every time," Simba replied, bopping his head so his neck was free from the pouch and its contents were now on the floor. "No wonder they call you 'Tarzan': the great and hairless pale-skinned ape."
"Maybe I'd hide better if I took your mane and wore it for myself, brother," Tarzan remarked with a smirk of his own while the lion curled himself by a tree's shade.
"It would be too big for you, little man." Simba yawned widely and gestured at the assortment of coconuts. "Pass me one from the pile, please. They are so far away."
The Black Back did a headshake at his antics. "I swear, if you get any lazier, the jungle will turn you into grass by mistake."
"But my privilege has its cost, brother." The maned feline elaborated once he took the coconut offered to him: "I have to think for many, for the Great Circle binds us all."
"And I'm sure having Bagheera and Baloo around certainly helps with that." Tarzan rolled his eyes in a manner not too different from said panther's before drinking from his fruit.
"Speaking of, don't you think our teacher will have something to say when he sees you're up to your tricks again?" Simba asked, taking notice of the sharp stone fang his brother dropped on the brush during the fall, the same one he always brought along to make his stuff. "Seriously, you're gonna carve another fang already?"
The now-emancipated juvenile raised a finger for the lion to wait since his mouth was full. After swallowing the coconut's juicy contents, he spoke out: "This time, I wanna make a nest all of my own. One I can always have just for myself. Now that I am a full-fledged Black Back, it's time for me to strike out into the world."
"By making an Ape Den?" Simba uttered gobsmacked, coming up with the term on the spot. "You men really have a talent for making things more complicated than they have to be." He stretched his limbs in place, still lying on his back. "You don't need a fancy place to sleep; just get yourself comfortable and close your eyes. It's not like we have anything to hide inside from, anyway."
"Yeah, but is so much better in a place protected from the wind and storms, and even from tigers," Tarzan responded.
"Like the ones we already have?"
"Well, I still want to make my lair." Having made up his mind, the young man put down his drink and prepared to go back to his work.
Simba couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "Whatever you say, T."
Being a beast that had little to think of except things to eat and search for the bare necessities of life in the jungle, Simba had difficulty understanding his brother's apparently innate creative drive. Throughout the years, Tarzan had found he could do a whole lot of things with his hands, his mind, and whatever he could find around their home. What kind of things? Bagheera would never let them find out if it was up to him, but certainly more than sleeping and eating like his lion brother. But although he would rather do something less tiring, Simba would often find himself lending assistance to the naked ape, whose tricks he made with such care it was hard to not feel at least some curiosity. Even if he sometimes looked ready to play with his sticks all day long.
So, they started taking apart boughs and shrubs alike. The juvenile would carefully choose from where they would get the pieces of wood and then they would transport it to the grainy side of the local terrace, where the real work would start. While Tarzan's grasp was still better than Simba's thanks to those thumbs he had, the lion's claws and bigger muscles gave him a stronger grip overall, especially useful when they began to reassemble the larger logs. As soon as the brothers were done cutting off vines with their claws and fangs, Tarzan interlaced and twisted them together to make strong ropes to hold up the den. First, they dug the ground to erect the biggest logs, which would become the support beams for the hut. More pieces were tied to the main ones to increase durability. And, for the finishing touches, the entire thing was covered with grass and brush.
"All finished," The White Ape declared proudly whilst dusting off his hands.
"Whew, finally." Simba yawned in relief, then he turned to get a good look at their work. This 'Ape Den' far more resembled a giant bush growing on the hillside than an actual lair. Not particularly impressive in size either, if one didn't know it was built from the ground up to be the nest for an ape. "Looks solid enough." He admitted only to then tilt his head when he realized something: "I think I saw something like this before in the city of the Bandar-log. I think they call it a house."
"This is something I had in mind for a while," Tarzan said, wiping off some sweat as he brought along some coconuts so they could refresh themselves. "I remembered the logs hoisted up the walls of their dens. Pretty sturdy."
Simba chuckled. "The guys gotta see this."
Later...
Timon and Pumbaa are peeking inside the makeshift shelter. The meerkat shifts his head to address his hairless godson behind them.
"Mind if I take a look inside?" Timon strides into the lair at Tarzan's nod, checking this strange cave built by his wards. At the far end, he spotted a litter of dry grasses put there to serve as beds and bedding for the jungle man. "Seems cozy. Mind if I crash in here from time to time, Hairless Wonder?"
"Oh no, Timon! You will hog the best spot for yourself." Pumbaa protested, following after the mongoose. "Besides, Tarzan is a grown ape. He needs his privacy."
"Boy, Baggy's gonna flip out when he sees this." Baloo crouched down in order to enter. The den's interior seemed to get quite the impression from him as well. "Whoa, and the look on Louie's face would be hysterical." His attention turned to his roommates' bickering by the bedside. "That looks like a pretty good bed too, mind if I give it a try?"
Baloo stood upright on his rear legs and hit his head on the 'ceiling' as a result. The lair provided the guests with very little room to move around, it wasn't long until Pumbaa hit the sidewall by accident, causing the entire structure to shake like a tree branch on a windy day.
"Guys, be careful," Simba warned from outside. "This lair took us a long time to build."
"Don't worry, Sonny Boy." Answered Timon. "We're only warming it up for-"
That was when the whole thing came down on top of them.
The morning sky was as deep and blue as ever; filled with plump clouds ready to form into imaginary shapes by a child's discerning eye.
A craggy-looking fellow drifts ahead of his flock; their homeliness belies their grace in flight as they hang motionless on an updraft before swooping back and forth in midair.
Peering down at the vast plains stretching out, spotted like a painted dog's hide from the shadows of the clouds above, they saw the scattered clumps of jungle trees along the pounded pastures. The fields were crisscrossed with tracks formed by the hooves of the countless herds that visited the Bukuvu, leading away to the delta of the River of Patience.
The leader directs the rest of the flock over to the lazy coils of the Waingunga River, where the rapids flashed silver and the trees growing around the banks gave way to marshy headwaters. They dive down, folding their wings and gaining speed until the canopy below is a green blur, their eyes watering from the whirring wind. They level off and zoom over a dark marsh. Slowing to a halt, the vultures came before their Khan on a hidden bough.
"We are safe, my lord. They don't even know we are here." Mzingo briefed.
Shere Khan's stern visage changes into a sinister grin. "Perfect."
It was time to hunt.
A/N: It is time.