In Search of Goliathus Hercules (28 page)

BOOK: In Search of Goliathus Hercules
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Armed Forces

T
hey had a plan. Now came the preparations to carry it off. The expedition would continue onward to the vast, uncharted central jungle region. Mat left the very next morning, heading south toward the remote village of Kuala Tembeling where he would hire guides, porters, and cooks. This was the gateway to the uncharted jungle. Billy went with him for since he’d learned about the poison dart tree, he wanted to find out more about how they could use the plants and trees of the forest to aid their quest. Or, as Billy muttered under his breath, to “do away with the old hag.” By accompanying Mat, Billy would have ample opportunity to learn as much as he could from him, and also, perhaps, some secrets from the tribal people of the jungle.

As for Henri, he, Robin, and the maestro were in charge of building and coordinating the insect army. “Do you think I’ll have any trouble convincing them to join us? It’s not their battle, after all,” asked Henri.

“I would think a simple recitation of Agatha Black’s numerous crimes should convince them that she’s an enemy to the entire insect world!” replied Antonio.

They needn’t have worried. Just as it had happened in America, news of Henri’s heroics freeing the crickets of Tashkent had spread like wildfire. He had only to introduce himself, and the insects readily agreed to help.

His success emboldened Henri. “In the past I haven’t had luck speaking to creatures with more than six legs, but we could add a lot to our arsenal if we could recruit them. Many of them are venomous. I suggest we speak to insects that share the same environment as centipedes and millipedes. Maybe they’re bilingual?”

So they decided to look in one of the nearby mining caves. They brought along the hearing-aid machine. Unlike Henri, whose ability to speak insect came from sheer instinct, Robin seemed to have a talent for picking up foreign languages quickly. While she agreed that recruiting beyond the six-legged world was a good idea, the thought of sitting in a cave with some of the ugliest and most terrifyingly poisonous creatures known to humans was unappealing. However, for the good of the expedition, she quelled her fears.

They entered the cave with lamps ablaze. They didn’t have to go far before they encountered a large dung beetle on the cave floor. They set up the hearing-aid machine so that Robin and Maestro Antonio could tune in to both sides of the conversation. Henri introduced himself, Robin, and Maestro Antonio.

“Henri Bell, come to my cave?” the beetle said. “Well, if I had known, I would have tidied up a bit. Shame on me! But it is an honor, sir, to meet you.”

“We were wondering if you are conversant with some of the other creatures that live in this cave, such as millipedes, centipedes, spiders, and perhaps scorpions.” Henri said.

“Oh, well, of course. We’ve all grown up here in the neighborhood. Folks just flip-flop between the languages. Not a problem.”

“Could you be our tutor in this other language?” Henri asked the dung beetle. “Of course, we would pay you. How about a selection of your favorite foods?”

“Uh, Henri, you
do
know what she eats?” Robin whispered.

“We’ll worry about that later, Robin,” whispered Maestro Antonio hastily.

“Well, that’s a very nice offer,” said the beetle. “I’ve never taught before, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Great!” said Henri. “Robin will be your first student.”

“Thank you,” said Robin, turning to the beetle. “I’m…really looking forward to the lessons,” she said with a little shudder, but the beetle seemed not to notice.

For the next week, Robin attended her lessons each day. It turned out that insect and millipede language had similarities like those between French and Spanish—languages in the same family. Robin also overcame her fears of the cave inhabitants. In fact, she was becoming a bit of a celebrity, as more and more creatures came to have a look at her. They were shocked that she had only two legs and assumed that she must have been in a horrible accident to be so severely handicapped. Eventually she was able to persuade the multi-legged creatures to stand in solidarity with their six-legged friends against Agatha Black.

While Robin continued her lessons, Henri and Maestro Antonio made forays out into the countryside to recruit the insect army. The only insect types they hadn’t asked to join were butterflies and moths as neither Henri nor Maestro Antonio could think what use they could possibly be in battle.

But just two nights before the trip to the jungle, Henri, the maestro, and Robin were discussing plans when they heard a light tapping on the window of the plantation house parlor. They looked up to see a flurry of moths beating their wings and bodies against the window. Henri opened it, and a soft white cloud of hundreds of moths sailed into the room. From somewhere in the cloud came a voice. “Henri Bell?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Art. This is my family,” said the moth who had been designated as their spokesman.

The cloud sailed around the room, moving from lamp to lamp, drawn to the bright light.

“Be careful!” said Henri. “You shouldn’t get too close!”

“Yes, yes, I know. It’s these youngsters. Come away from there! Darn fools. We’ll be fine. We’ve faced greater dangers tonight.”

“What greater dangers?” asked Henri.

“Bats! But we outsmarted them!” replied Art.

“Really?” said Henri, now very much interested. “I would love to hear about that.”

“Oh!” Clearly Art was flattered that Henri asked. “Anyway, word’s been going around the forest that you’re recruiting an insect army, but you haven’t come and asked us to join!” He sounded a little hurt. “I told them let’s go and volunteer our services.”

“That’s very kind of you,” said Henri. “But first, what’s this about outsmarting bats?”

“Oh yes. Just an average night. We easily outmaneuvered them. Some fancy flying, a couple of rolls, a few quick drops, and a little trickery too.”

“Trickery?”

“We tossed them back a few clicks!”

“Tossed them back a few clicks?’ What do you mean?” Henri asked.

Robin and Maestro Antonio could only hear Henri’s side of the conversation without the hearing-aid machine, but Robin quickly picked up the gist of the conversation.

“Henri, I think I understand. I’ve been researching bats and they navigate by something called echolocation. A bat makes a series of calls or clicks, and then based on the returning echoes, it’s able to judge the distance to its prey.”

Turning to the moths, Robin said in insect language, “When you click, you’re mimicking their sounds. It confuses them, doesn’t it? They think they’re hearing their own echo bouncing off another object.”

“Oh!” said Art. “She speaks insect too. Yes, you’re right,” said Art. “That’s exactly what we do. The bats get disoriented, and then they just give up the chase in frustration. It works most of the time.”

Henri smiled at Robin. “He says you’re right.” Turning back to the moth, he said excitedly, “Art, I would like to accept your offer and have your family join our army.”

The moths all beat their wings in delight. With that, the last and perhaps most valuable member of the force was selected for battle. Simple confusion of the enemy might work just as well—or better—than threat and brute force.

Embracing Serangga-Orang

M
at and Billy sat under a primitive lean-to on the outskirts of Kuala Tembeling, waiting for the arrival of Henri, Robin, and Maestro Antonio. As soon as they saw them, Mat and Billy jumped up and came running forward.

“Stop! Don’t come any farther,” said Mat.

“What’s wrong?” asked Maestro Antonio, looking worried.

“Nothing, nothing,” said Billy. “Everything is good. We just need to get Henri, I mean Serangga-orang, ready for his big entrance into the village.”

“Don’t call me that,” said Henri. “What do you mean by my big entrance?”

Mat and Billy looked at each other, and then Mat said, “The people here are very superstitious, very old fashioned. I tried to explain that you are making a scientific expedition to find
Goliathus hercules
, but they don’t understand.”

“Mat, are you trying to tell us you haven’t been able to hire any men?” asked Maestro Antonio.

“No, no! I just had to explain it so they understand better.”

“So he told them Henri is Serangga-orang, and that it is an opportunity for the young men of the village to prove they are brave and strong by joining him on the expedition,” said Billy. “Now we have more than enough men! Everyone wants to come along and work with a living legend!”

“Legend! Henri is not Serangga-orang,” retorted Robin.

“How do you know?” said Mat. “Henri is half man and half insect. He is brave. He was meant to be in the jungle.”

Mat had a point, thought Henri. Much of the story of Serangga-orang fit him. Certainly he had the physical qualities, and he did feel at home in the jungle. He liked the heat and dampness. And he could speak to insects. He could hear them and understand them. Brave? Well, he wasn’t so sure about that part.

“So right now everyone in the village is waiting for Serangga-orang, is that right?” Henri asked.

“Yes!” Mat beamed.

“Henri, we need you to look the part,” said Billy.

Sighing resignedly, Henri nodded. They had him remove his hat and shirt. His antennae sniffed the air. “I know you’re not used to using your extra limbs, but no need to hesitate anymore,” said Billy.

As they walked through the village gate, Mat called out something in Malay. People poked their heads out of their small wooden houses, and when they saw Henri, they came running. Soon a big crowd surrounded them, and the party came to a standstill.

“You should say something,” whispered Mat. “I will translate.”

“Ah…Thank you very much for this friendly welcome to your village.” Henri began. “I am overwhelmed by your generosity.”

“Say something about the expedition,” prompted Mat.

“In a few days’ time, we will enter the jungle to search and, I hope, capture
Goliathus hercules
, one of the most fearsome creatures of the forest. I, um, Serangga-orang, hope that many of the strong, brave men I see before me will join me on this quest. Thank you very much.”

Mat gave a lengthy translation, which was followed by a round of applause and cheers. As they were led to the headman’s house, Henri whispered to Mat, “I know you weren’t translating exactly what I said.”

Mat looked down. “Sorry. I just changed it a little bit. I said that those who join us would prove to everyone that they are brave and strong. I also said that you know that the forest spirits, the river spirits, and all the ancestor spirits will be pleased, and we will make many offerings to them.”

“Oh. Well, I hope you’re right and that the spirits are on our side.”

Perhaps they were, for on that first evening in the Kuala Tembeling, Mat had news for Henri. Apparently the villagers recalled that several years ago a lone man—a foreigner—had arrived. He wanted to go into the jungle and had purchased a canoe from one of the village families. The next day he paddled off on his own and was never seen again. No one could recall the man’s name or where he came from. He did leave one thing, though. In halting Malay, he had asked the people of the village to keep it safe until his return.

Mat pulled out an envelope. Inside were two photos.

“Look, Henri. Is this you and your papa?”

Henri held up one photo. It was of a smiling man and a boy, maybe six or seven years old. They looked like they were in a park. Henri stared and stared. His father had left so long ago that it was hard to recall his face. The boy was familiar, but his resemblance to the Henri of today was only slight. “Can I see the other photo?”

Mat handed him the other photo, which showed a couple, a man—the same man as in the other photo—and a woman. “That’s my mother,” said Henri with certainty. He turned back to the other photo, the one of him and his father. A tear rolled down his face. Time and distance had obscured everything so that not only was he unable to recognize his own father, but he couldn’t see himself in the shy boy looking out from the picture.

The owner of the photographs had never returned to collect them, which wasn’t hopeful news. Still, this was the first evidence that his father had been in the jungle, and that gave Henri something to hold on to. He was anxious to go back into the jungle. If luck was with him, they would defeat Mrs. Black, capture
Goliathus hercules
, and, just maybe, learn what had become of his father.

In the morning the expedition party rose early and, with the guidance of the village shaman, made offerings to the spirits. To the river spirit they asked for calm waters for their canoes. To the forest spirits they asked for protection from rains, winds, and wild animals. And finally they gave offerings to remember the ancestor spirits. These spirits could not help them, but, if not shown proper respect, might become angry and put obstacles in their way.

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