Salticidae by Ryan C. Thomas

Author:Ryan C. Thomas [Thomas, Ryan C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Mal Press
Published: 2013-08-27T05:00:00+00:00

***

Unlike the rest of the men who roamed the jungle at night, Shumba felt safest in the pitch black. His senses grew stronger, his instincts sharper. Sounds became codes, smells became clues, shadows became jungle spirits whispering secrets. He sat still on the ground inside the bivouac his father and the other men of his tribe had quickly erected out of fronds and branches. It wasn’t much for protection, but offered a means of disappearance from predators, both human and animal. If it rained, it might keep them dry for a while. But then Shumba was not put off by rain. Being born in the jungle was a baptism under a weeping sky.

“Shumba, you should rest.” Musa stood outside the bivouac, weapons in hand, staring into the distance. He was clearly distraught over the death of his friends, and the appearance of the demons. The other two men were lying down, each with an eye open.

“I cannot sleep.”

“I do not expect anyone to sleep tonight. Not after what we have seen. But it will still do you well to let your body recuperate.”

“I want to go home. What if they make it to mother?”

“The spiders or the men?”

He did not know which was worse. The giant bugs would eat his family, use them as nothing but meat, but the men in the berets would make them suffer. There were worse things than just dying.

“I do not want either of them to find our home. We should go back and plan in case of an attack. We should warn others.”

“There are men back home.”

“There are more boys then men. Younger than me by years.”

“They are men now, now that their fathers have been taken away. And they will protect your mother and the others.”

Shumba stepped out from under the bivouac, saw his father standing still in the darkness. He could barely discern the outline of Musa’s broad shoulders and wiry legs. His father was large for a Pygmy at almost five-feet-three, and that was one reason the other men of the tribe followed him. In the darkness Shumba watched his father stand rigid, disciplined, looking into oblivion.

“I am a man now,” Shumba said. “I want to stand guard with you.”

Musa kept his eyes on the jungle, silently watching the darkness. “It would be pointless for you to stand near me, boy. But, yes, you are a man, so if you want to watch with me, then find a point from which to see your surroundings.”

Silence followed for many seconds. Musa had given his son a command and it was Shumba’s duty now, as a man, to follow it. He selected a nearby tree, wrapped his arms around its trunk and dug his leathery soles into the cracks of its flaky bark. He hauled himself up, the bark scraping against his hungry belly, until he was in reach of the lowest branch. Once he had that, he swung up into the leaves and maneuvered into the maze of twisting boughs. He moved

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