 “The more ground between us and those cannibals, the better,” you tell Indy.So Jamal wakes up five other Africans who are asleep by the campfire. They pack up the gear, and then Jamal leads the way, cutting a path with his machete as you steal into the night.After you’ve been walking awhile, the questions start bubbling up inside you again like water in the cannibals’ pot.“Indy, why are you headed to Stanleyville?” you blurt out.“I said no questions, kid.”“I’m not asking for myself. All of Africa wants to know,” you say.“I told you: I’m going to see a man about an elephant,” Indy says, as if that closes the subject.“So they were right—you are a hunter!”“A hunter? Me?” Indy says, laughing. “Hunters kill because they want a new rug in their den. That’s not what I’m after. Look up at the sky, kid. See ‘em? Millions of diamonds sparkling on black velvet. That’s what I want.”Indy takes a quick drink from a canteen and passes it to you. “And this time I’m going to grab one,” he says with a mysterious smile.You wait, knowing you’ve got to be silent if you want to get the story out of him. | “Think about this, kid,” Indy says softly. “Think about Africa a long, long time ago—a thousand years ago. Try to imagine it—no hunters on safari, no electricity, no telephone, no Benny Goodman records. Just tribes living in peace.
“And in the middle of the continent there lives a tribe called the Ramploo. In their language Ramploo means “slow strength,” like an elephant. To the Ramploo, elephants are like gods, gods you can ride on.“But gods can be fickle. One day a bull elephant from the local herd suddenly gets a bug up his trunk and turns against the Ramploo. He goes nuts, tormenting the village night and day, eating huts, charging, spitting water and mud at everyone.” Indy pauses, coming back to the present. Then he adds, “The elephant even killed the tribal chief’s only son.”“What did the chief do? Did he kill the elephant?” you ask.“Kid, you’re still thinking like a hunter, not like a Ramploo,” Indy says. “The Ramploo danced and they prayed, that’s what they did. They devised an elaborate ritual of fear and worship—and they created a magnificent golden elephant-head mask to use in the dance.”Turn to page 39. |
