In Search of Goliathus Hercules (29 page)

The jungle was magnificent. The trees rose straight up hundreds of feet, creating elegant columns that seemed to scrape the sky. A canopy of brilliant, green leaves created a roof above their heads. Some leaves were as large as an elephant’s ear. Brightly colored birds of red, green, blue, and yellow flew from branch to branch in their heavenly realm, never in their lives having touched the ground. Henri and the others disembarked from their canoes and then stood for a full ten minutes on the riverbank, gaping at the awe-inspiring beauty.

Among the trees were millions of eyes scanning, waiting for signs of unusual activity. The cicadas and grasshoppers were to keep watch and, at the first sign of Mrs. Black or her bats, sound the alarm.

There had been no sighting of Agatha Black in the village, but Henri had no doubt that a rendezvous with his nemesis was just days away. His presence alone would lure her, and she would be sure to show herself if she believed that Henri was on the verge of capturing
Goliathus hercules
. This time, though, he would be ready for her.

As Robin and Maestro Antonio set up the hearing-aid machine, Henri listened to the wind and the voices it carried. The crickets chirped, “All’s well, all’s well.” The cicadas called, “No Black yet, no Black yet.” The grasshoppers and katydids trilled, “All quiet on the front, all quiet.” Hmm…thought Henri.

Nearby a particularly loud katydid with magnificent wings like a ballroom gown of brown and yellow said, “Good afternoon, Henri Bell.”

“Greetings, madame.”

“We are so pleased to see you.”

“Likewise,” said Henri. “Is everyone here and accounted for?”

“I believe so. I myself have seen the bees, wasps, blister beetles, and three battalions of army ants!”

“Impressive!” said Henri. “What about the moths? Are they here?”

“Look behind you, Henri Bell. They come.”

Henri turned his head and saw the moths move across the river. Their numbers were so great that a startled Robin and Maestro Antonio looked up from the hearing-aid machine as they heard the beating of a million wings. The men setting up camp shouted out in wonder as they too saw the advancing squadron move like a threatening storm cloud. With their keen eyesight, the moths immediately identified Henri. They moved toward him as one, and Henri heard his friend Art say, “Reporting for duty, sir!”

Ground troops amass in preparation for the battle. Illustration created by Maestro Antonio from his recollection one year after the jungle encounter.

With the hearing aid set up, Robin located one of her multi-legged recruits, who reported that the centipedes were positioned in trees around the area. Everyone was in place! Unbeknownst to Mrs. Black and her allies, the ground, the trees, and the air seethed with millions upon millions of creatures loyal to Henri Bell.

They went to sleep that night lulled by the gentle gurgle of the river and the continuous cries of “All’s well” and “No Black yet.” Henri listened for sounds out of the ordinary—a bat call, the swish of stiff silk—but nothing broke the relative peace. He slept deeply, uninterrupted.

The following morning, as he lay in his tent, it took Henri a few minutes to realize the reports had changed. He hurriedly put on clothes and crawled out of the tent to see the sun just rising. The calls reached his ears.

“Be alert, be alert!” said the crickets.

“Maybe Black, maybe Black!” came the high-pitched cry of the cicadas.

“Something coming from the west,” called the grasshoppers.

Henri woke the others, informed them of the new reports, and immediately struck out to get the latest information. He searched and found the katydid he had spoken to the day before. She confirmed what he had heard already. Someone or something was coming from the west. Gazing into the sky, Henri called out for his friend Art. In a minute, the moth appeared, accompanied by a small entourage.

“Something is coming,” said Art.

“Yes. I need to know whom, and I need to know when they will arrive. I am going to ask you to gather this information. Don’t put yourselves at any risk!”

“I shall personally see to it.” And with that, the moth took to the air, calling out for several of his family to join him.

At breakfast, Henri and the others stood by the campfire discussing what to do.

“If it’s Mrs. Black and her bats, then we can expect them to attack at night,” said Maestro Antonio. “That gives us the rest of the day to ready ourselves.”

“I have the spiders building a tremendous web,” said Robin.

“And I’ve found some plants that could help us in battle,” said Billy. “Come, I’ll show you.”

As in any jungle, vines grew abundantly, taking a stranglehold upon trees. One such ivy, known as the Rosary Pea, or
Abrus precatorius
, had beautiful seeds of black and red that produced lethargy and dizziness if ingested. The rengas tree, family
Anacardiaceae
, was, in fact, a shrub. Rubbing against its leaves provoked a reaction similar to poison ivy, something that each of them was all too familiar with. Billy had also located two different types of stinging nettles—one called a nettle tree and the other a Nilgiri nettle, which not only stung but caused blisters.

Maestro Antonio was thinking practically. “There’s a clearing over there,” he said, pointing to a spot not far from the campsite. “That might be a good place to stage the battle. The stinging nettles and the rengas trees are just to the south of it. Robin’s spiders have their web nearby too. I think if Mrs. Black tries to make a run for it, we should force her in that direction.”

“What do you think about shooting some Rosary Peas into the air once the battle begins?” Billy said, pulling out a homemade blowpipe. “It will be distracting to the bats, and if they are foolish enough to swallow them, they’ll get a dose of dizziness and abandon the attack.”

“Good idea,” said Henri. “You know, Tony’s right. This is the perfect place. The trees surround the clearing so that our air forces can lie in wait. The ground is clear, so the ants and millipedes will have an uninterrupted path. There’s only one more thing: is
Goliathus hercules
even in this area? I haven’t seen any sign of them. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

At that moment, the moths fluttered down into the clearing. One rested on Henri’s arm. Panting hard, Art said, “Bats! Hundreds of bats! They will come tonight!”

W
hoosh! Buzz! A moment before, the clearing, surrounded by majestic trees, had stood tranquilly like the nave of a cathedral. Now it was as if a twister raged in its center. Millions of insects had taken to the sky. The air was choked with the multitudes—bees, wasps, hornets, cicadas, flies, and mosquitoes. Their wings, like crystal prisms, caught the light with dazzling effect. It was ordered chaos.

The ground, too, had come alive, writhing and seething like boiling water. Army ants jostled with crickets, grasshoppers, and millipedes. Standing in the center of it all stood Henri, waving his arms as if he were an orchestra conductor and barking commands like a general. Robin, Billy, and Maestro Antonio gingerly stepped back from the preparations on the battlefield for fear that with one misstep they might crush a loyal recruit. The most enormous grasshoppers any of them had ever seen, with wings of pink and green, sailed by their noses. Robin felt the soft touch of a light wing against her cheek, and then a gentle breeze as the squadron of moths zoomed by. The bystanders worried that with a single intake of breath they might inhale a fearless fly that had been sent out on a reconnaissance mission. The air was so thick that the sun was obscured. A careless wave of the hand might result in casualties to their own troops.

Carefully Henri departed from the clearing. Robin took his place, the hearing-aid machine in hand. It was her turn to direct the allied forces to their places. Ultimately, when it came to the battle, she would stand beside Henri as his lieutenant, translating any orders into the tongue of the multi-legged. Henri returned to camp to inform Mat and the others that the battle was imminent.

“Have you seen any sign of
Goliathus hercules
yet?” he asked anxiously.

“Not yet,” responded Mat. “But we’ll keep looking.”

Henri nodded. “I think we should make some, um, offerings to the spirits. Whichever ones you think would be best.”

“Very good!” said Mat. “The men will be happy to do this.”

Henri walked to the river and sat down on the bank. For a jungle, it was unusually quiet—the calm before the storm. Beyond the chorus of “Be alert, be alert,” there was an absence of insect calls. Most had settled into the clearing in readiness—waiting, watching. Two magnificent black-and-green butterflies lazily fluttered by. A short time later, six yellow butterflies darted over the water. What a peaceful life, thought Henri. Butterflies were the only species they had not recruited for their forces. They seemed so fragile, so harmless. Suddenly he stood up.

“Hello, hello! Do you mind coming over here?” he called to the yellow butterflies. Very slowly, certainly not taking the most

direct route, the butterflies settled on Henri’s shoulder.

“You called, Henri Bell?” said one of them.

“Yes, I did. I need some messengers. I have an announcement that I want spread throughout the forest. You must tell it to everyone you meet.”

“Certainly, Henri Bell. What is the message?”

“The message is:
Goliathus hercules
—Serranga-orang, your insect brother, is here and wishes to meet you.”

“Are you sure?” the butterfly asked. “Tell everyone? What if we don’t find
Goliathus hercules
?” The butterfly anxiously flapped its wings.

“Tell it to everyone. Even if you don’t meet
Goliathus hercules
, the message will get to them.”

With that, the butterflies took to the air. Henri continued to sit by the riverbank, smiling to himself. There were no bigger blabbermouths than insects. If
Goliathus hercules
was in the area, the beetles would know soon enough that he was here waiting for them. In the space of an hour, Henri heard his message in the wind, whispered from tree to tree.