In Search of Goliathus Hercules (26 page)

The beetle’s shiny black eyes caught the moonlight. He stared at Henri for a moment, taking in his curious form, considering him. Henri thought the insect must have been wondering: just who was the enemy? Was it the bats, Mrs. Black, this very strange insect-man, or all of them? He must have been unsure, for with a toss of his regal horns, the huge beetle opened his wings and launched himself in the air. His encounter with Henri and Mrs. Black had no doubt caused him to reevaluate the situation. Henri heard the giant beetle call out to his comrades, “Retreat! Retreat!” The beetles, so summoned by their leader, abruptly ceased fighting and turned.

Henri cursed to himself. Why was Mrs. Black here? Why did she have to spoil everything? If she hadn’t turned up, he might have had a chance to reason with
Goliathus hercules
, for the beetles had momentarily paused. In a moment of inspiration, Henri called out to the rapidly departing insects: “
Goliathus hercules
, run, fly away from here! This woman is evil. Tell all your kind that tonight Serangga-orang, your insect brother, came to fight for you!”

Henri turned his attention back to Mrs. Black. He might not have captured
Goliathus hercules
, but at least he had his nemesis trapped! Up close, she smelled distractingly like sulfur, a noxious scent. He shook his head. He must not lose his focus. It was his job to make sure that she was taken care of so that she would never bother him or maim or kill another insect again! However, he couldn’t continue to hold her down by himself. He needed help!

He shouted for the others to come to his aid, but another shriek pierced the night, completely drowning out his call. The sound seemed to have come from Agatha Black. But it was a completely inhuman utterance, and while she struggled beneath him, all that came from her mouth was a steady stream of very unladylike words.

He had just managed to pry the cage from her fingers and toss it aside when something struck him in the face. Suddenly the bats had taken aim at Henri. Again and again they dove at him, relentlessly pelting him with their bodies until he had no choice but to let go of Mrs. Black and shield his face from their claws.

Agatha Black easily pushed him off and jumped up.

“Now!” cried Henri again, which was the signal to this companions that he needed help. But he could not look up to see if they were coming because the bats continued to attack him.

He could somehow still hear the swish of Mrs. Black’s dress. With his head lowered and his arms protecting his face, Henri raised himself up and tried to follow the sound of the stiff silk skirt. His antennae moved about as if they had a will of their own, attempting to locate his enemy. He took a few blind, tentative steps, but quickly became confused as the swish of the dress was drowned out by the sounds of running feet and shouting voices.

Again a piercing cry rang through the air. The bats abruptly ceased to strike him and soared high in the sky.

N
ow Robin was at his side. “Henri, are you OK?”

“Agatha Black…Did you see her? Which way did she go?” Henri looked frantically about.

“Tony, Billy, and Mat went after her.”

“I have to follow them. We can’t let her get away!” shouted Henri. By now, clouds had drifted over the moon and they stood in pitch dark. With all the commotion, Henri and Robin had no idea which way to run. Echoes of distant voices bounced off the trees, confusing them so that they dared not go too far for fear of losing their bearings. And then Henri caught the scent—the smell of sulfur.

“Do you smell that?” he asked Robin.

“What smell?”

“Like sulfur, like someone striking a match.”

Robin sniffed the air. “No, I don’t smell anything like that.”

Standing motionless, Henri took a deep whiff of the heavy night air. When he opened his mouth and breathed in, he realized he could actually taste the aroma of at least a dozen scents upon the breeze. His antennae waved about, searching, searching for the scent of Agatha Black. For the first time, Henri completely gave in to his insect instincts. He knew which way to go!

Grabbing Robin’s hand, he turned toward the cave and started running, drawn by the rotten-egg smell of sulfur. At the cave entrance, they stopped. The scent was there, but it was not fresh. Moving to the right, Henri now noticed an overgrown path heading into the jungle.

“This way!” he yelled. Moving as quickly as they could in the dark, they stumbled along the path, frequently tripping over tree roots. Henri knew it was a foolhardy venture. They had no idea which way they were going. Aside from Agatha Black, there were other dangers in the jungle such as tigers, snakes, and
Goliathus hercules
! It was dark, and the only weapon they had was Robin’s machete. Neither of them had any practice wielding it. What were they going to do, anyway? Chop Mrs. Black into pieces?

Where were the others? Henri had no doubt that Agatha Black had come this way. He could smell her evil nature as strongly as the circus fleas could smell the fresh blood of their evening meal.

Rage propelled Henri farther into the jungle, pulling along Robin, who did not protest. She understood that they had come this far and there would be no giving up. He had just pulled Robin up from the ground, her knees a bloody mess, when they heard the unmistakable swish of silk. Mrs. Black was just ahead of them! Sniffing the air, Henri found the sulfur-like smell to be oppressive. She wasn’t far away.

They began to inch forward when Henri suddenly stopped. There was a new smell in the air. A delicious one—the smell of warm cinnamon buns with icing and a little butter. It was heavenly, and it was just off the path toward the left. Henri started moving toward the enticing smell.

“Henri! What are you doing? Where are you going?” whispered a frantic Robin.

Henri stopped. He blinked. He wasn’t quite sure, but he wanted to follow the delicious smell. He licked his lips and continued walking off the path.

“No, Henri!” cried Robin. She tugged on his arm, trying to pull him back, but Henri pushed forward. Suddenly Robin felt his arm slip from her grasp, and he vanished! It was pitch dark. Putting her arms out before her, Robin grabbed at where Henri had just stood, but she brought back only a handful of leaves. “Henri! Henri! Where are you?”

In response came a brittle laugh and then the swish of stiff silk. Raising her machete, Robin called out, “Show yourself, you old hag! Come here! I’ve had enough of you! What have you done to Henri?”

But Mrs. Black did not reveal herself, although it was clear she had been within feet of them. Robin heard the rustle of silk moving farther away.

“Argh!” yelled Robin in frustration. She raised her arm and considered throwing the machete in Mrs. Black’s direction. Could that work? Once Roberto, the knife thrower at the circus, had invited Robin to come to practice. Robin had thanked him politely but declined. She told Henri later that it just hadn’t seemed useful at the time.

Robin lowered her arm. Should she throw the machete and miss, she might just lose it in the thick undergrowth, and then she would be alone without any kind of protection. Stomping her feet in agitation, Robin turned from the sound of the departing Agatha Black and back toward the place where Henri had disappeared.

She stared into space. How could Henri vanish? It was impossible. He must be there. Perhaps he had fallen down a hole, struck his head, and was unconscious. Gingerly, she tested the ground, inching out her foot. She couldn’t move forward because of the dense foliage. She would have to hack her way through. Robin raised the machete in the air.

Just as she was about to bring down the blade, the clouds cleared and moonlight revealed large podlike plants. The pods surrounded her and were nearly as tall as she was. And to the right, one was shaking! Scared though she was, Robin moved toward it. Tapping on the outside of the pod, she called, “Henri?”

From inside came an incomprehensible muffled sound. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they had stood in Madame Noir’s tent, and the Venus flytrap had bitten Henri, but that memory convinced Robin. “Henri! I know you’re in there! Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out!”

She didn’t dare hack at the pod with the machete for fear of injuring Henri, but the membrane was so thick her hands could not rip it open, try as she might. Eventually Robin was forced to hack at the stalk. It had a tough, woody stem, and Robin had to chop frantically for ten minutes before the pod fell to the ground with a thud. The carnivorous plant, now dead, released its grasp and Robin pulled a dazed and damp Henri out of the pod.

Carnivorous plant, the giant plant (foreground), is the one believed to have trapped Henri

Offering her hand, Robin pulled Henri to his feet. “It was a trap; Mrs. Black planned for that to happen. Come on; let’s get out of here.”

Henri felt foolish. The scent of the giant pitcher plant had lured him. What was his strength was also his weakness. His insect qualities gave him superior eyesight and hearing as well as an astonishing sense of smell and taste, but his heightened senses made him vulnerable to dangers like the pitcher plant. Its aroma confused his mind, and he had lost all sense of purpose. He would not let that happen again! “Thanks,” said Henri.

“No problem. You would have done the same for me. We’ll keep this between us.”

They returned to camp and sat waiting impatiently for Billy, Tony, and Mat to return. It was a tense wait. At last Billy, the maestro, and Mat returned—just the three of them. No Agatha Black. Henri sank to the ground, his head in his hands. “She’s gone! She’s escaped!”

Grimly, they nodded.

Henri blamed only himself. If only he hadn’t let go of her! If only he had resisted the seductive scent of the pitcher plant! He had nothing! Not
Goliathus hercules
, not his father, and now he had failed to defeat Agatha Black!

Crying out in frustration, he bellowed to the sky, “You can run for now, but I know you’ll be back…and next time, I will win!”

It was in the whispers of the wind on every call, every chirrup, and every growl. The news traveled hundreds of miles in less than twenty-four hours. Something was wrong. Something in the natural order of the forest was dangerously askew.

The cave bats had never before attacked the mighty
Goliathus hercules.
For centuries, the two had lived side by side without conflict. Clearly the bats had been the provocateurs, but the motivation to attack the warrior insect was unclear. It was cause for uneasiness.

Two hundred miles away from the scene of the confrontation, the whispers, instead of fading upon the breeze, had elevated to a full-scale screaming match!

“Who is this creature who speaks our language and calls himself Serangga-orang?” cried the Biggest One.

“Why did they retreat? It is shameful! I say we go out and destroy the intruder!” exclaimed the Shiny One.

“Calm yourself, brother. Calm yourself,” said the Old One.

“Tell me again. What did he look like?” asked the New One.

“They say he has six legs and long antennae,” said the Pointy One.