CHAPTER 1
The Drought
The story begins with the worst drought in fifty years. The oncesucculent grass had slowly lost all color, turning from a pale greento a crisp brown. Village crops dried out and withered to blackenedhusks. They stood as scorched reminders of past famine and hardshipinstead of becoming plentiful harvests. Foraging for nuts, berriesand roots became increasingly difficult. Dust filled the air, chokingall color from the horizon and leaving a hazy mirage of the oncepicturesque landscape. Small tree leaves hung withered and limp,rustling listlessly in the stagnant air.
Only the strong, leafy domes of the giant Baobab trees, withtheir deep penetrating roots, were still green and able to withstandthe oppressive heat, which gave some shady refuge to weary animalsand natives. Like a mother welcoming home orphans, the largebranches became home to prey and predator alike.
The drought had taken its toll on the Watinkee tribesmen. Foodand water became scarce as they and other nomadic tribes movedeven more frequently to provide for their clans. Many of the old andvery young had already perished. The remaining people struggleddesperately to sustain themselves on the open savanna, praying forrelief and rain. The fight for survival was particularly devastating fora young warrior with his wife and child.
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A fat termite on the well-worn path to the once majestic monkey-breadtree suddenly stopped, waving its antennae in a whirl ofmotion as if sensing impending doom. With a shake of its blindhead, it hurried along with the rest of the colony to its home insidethe tree.
The ancient monkey-bread tree stood as a lone sentinel in themiddle of a desolate petrified forest. A century ago, it had been alivewith life and home to generations of birds, butterflies, and monkeys.It had provided shelter to countless herds of antelope, gazelle, andthe occasional tribesmen.
Today, the tree was only a shell of the majesty and beauty it hadonce been. The bark had long since peeled off, exposing long usedhighways for termites and other insects. The old tree's limbs werecrooked and bent, rising toward the sky in a silent prayer for rain. Atthe base of the tree, scattered like small children, dry saplings alsostruggled for life in the drought. As if in answer to the prayer, blackclouds were forming across the heat-oppressed plains, blocking outthe stifling heat of the day.
Thunder rumbled in dark clouds that rolled swiftly across thesky, anxious to release their pent up power. Tentacles of lighteningsnaked through the evening sky, revealing the moving silhouettes ofanimals desperately searching for shelter from the impending storm.The jagged flashes of light in the darkening sky seemed to search forunwary targets, constantly probing the earth.
A lone branch on the monkey-bread tree seemingly reachedout and grabbed at an elusive bolt of lightning. Electricity crackledand charged the air as the limb exploded, sounding as if a thousandthundering drums were beating at once. Sparks flew from the branchand ignited the dry kindling and saplings around the tree. The onceproud tree became a funeral pyre as its branches waved in the airfrantically. Smoke and ash filled the sky as the fire burned everythingit touched and spread quickly into the savanna.
Thick black smoke rolled ahead of the raging fire, sometimesshifting directions at a moment's notice or the slightest change inwind direction. Animals scattered, not knowing how to escape thetongues of living flame. Desperately trying to outrun the intense heatof the blaze, gazelles and wildebeests ran with their mortal enemiesthe lions, hyenas, and cheetahs.
Already fighting nearly impossible odds, many of the savannatribes faced certain demise. The all-encompassing inferno gave littleclue as to where they could safely hide. Scattering into the night,people separated and became lost from one another in the ensuingchaos.
Darkness covered the sky as the heavy rain-filled clouds blottedout the sun, turning the oppressive heat of the day into a chokinghumid night. Thunder rumbled like a huge hungry belly as the cloudssuddenly burst, releasing torrents of rain.
The flames battled the thunderstorm and like two titans foughtfor supremacy over the savanna. The resounding thunder competedwith the roar of the blaze as the clash for dominance raged on.After what seemed like days, but was actually only a matter of a fewhours, the rain finally subdued the fire. Small sheltered areas hiddenfrom the storm contained embers that sent out envoys of blackenedcinders that sizzled and popped, only to fall back to the damp earth,smothered and quiet.
The following morning the sun struggled to chase the remnantsof the storm away. As it slowly rose above the horizon, it burnedaway the remaining black clouds revealing the devastation left by therampaging fire. Pockets of steam and smoke rose like wraiths in theair, only to disappear as the sun quickly dried all remaining moisturefrom the soil. Blackened husks of what once were proud animals thathad been just a step too slow, lay in poses of heartbreaking death.
The once picturesque landscape, now a barren desert, held theshocked remains of people and animals struggling to survive thedevastation. Dusk finally cooled the savanna as the sun's rays losttheir fury for the day, bringing some relief. Stars were beginning toappear like bright jewels on the empty canvas of the sky and fora moment, brought hope for the future. Then, as if in mockery tothe struggles below, thin wispy clouds scuttled across the night sky,draping the moon and stars in a mosaic pattern of light and dark.Moments of hope faded when the light gave way to darkness, givingthe savanna an eerie, forlorn feeling of despair.
The scattered moonlight gave barely enough illumination for theretreating man and woman to see as they wearily made their wayacross the plain. The woman stumbled and struggled to keep herbalance as she clutched a small child in her arms. The child, unawareof their plight, cooed softly in his mother's embrace.
The tall dark man, accompanied by the young woman withunusually white hair, helped her to move forward, gently taking herarm. They were alone and desperate to find friends, family or anyother survivors from other tribes. If their enemies or predators caughtthem in the open savanna, it would invite injury or death, even for anexperienced warrior, as he was. Exhausted, they staggered towarda huge tree standing in the distance. The women had wrapped thechild in soft leopard skin with an eagle feather by his head, as if hewas a prince of a tribe.
The child, weary and hungry, whimpered only slightly as he gazedinto his mother's eyes. She lovingly caressed his cheek, trying tocomfort the small child. Looking up, she peered into the darknessfearfully, searching for any sign of movement.
The man, spent and bleeding, stood defiant. He proudly carriedthe only weapon he had used to defend his family. The spear stoodsix feet tall, topped by a long sharp metal tip stained red with blood.
The previous night, a group of hyenas had attacked the coupleat their camp. Though suffering from serious wounds, they managedto escape with their lives. Fatigued from pain and loss of blood, theydesperately hoped to find a safe place to rest for the night. Feelingas though they played a cat and mouse game, they had the uncannyfeeling of an unseen foe stalking them.
Suddenly, sounds like hysterical laughing split the night air. Therelentless hyenas had pursued and finally found them once again.The man quickly turned, his eyes scanning the dark horizon formovement. With a quiet word to his wife and a loving touch to herhand, they turned and hobbled hurriedly toward the protection ofthe giant tree.
Huge ragged heads with red, unblinking eyes and massiveslathering jaws parted the tall grass and sniffed the night air hungrily.Low growls and mewling noises from parched throats and skeletalcorpse-like bodies filled the air. Spotting their quarry moving towarda tree, the hyenas quickly fanned out for the ambush.
Out of breath and barely able to stand, the warrior and his wifeturned to face the emerging beasts. The woman turned and randesperately to reach the tall tree and placed the infant onto a largebranch that jutted out like an island. High enough to be out of thereach of the ravenous hyenas, she lashed the baby to the branch. Herhand then reached for the small knife she carried at her hip.
The hyenas attacked without warning. Screams and growls filledthe night air as they leaped toward their quarry. The man, possessedas if by demons, thrust and slashed at the oncoming horde. Bloodspilled on the thirsty ground making their footing wet and slippery.
A beast attacked from behind as if sensing a frontal attack wascertain death. The man spun around to meet this new threat, buttripped over the body of a wounded hyena as it snapped at his legs.The woman lunged with her knife and quickly put an end to its savagelife. She looked up into the night for her husband and watched as hedrew the starving animals further from her. He desperately foughton, a lone hero only the gods would witness. She loved her husbandand could not let him fight this lopsided battle alone.
Too many to fight, he soon became overwhelmed. He trippedand fell to the ground and became instantly mobbed by the viciousanimals. A particularly nasty beast latched onto his back, pinning himto the ground. With an insane scream of desperation, the womanthrew herself into the fray, stabbing and biting like a wild thing, onlyin the end to succumb to the uneven battle. The sounds of the fightdiminished as the beasts slowly slunk off into the night.
The cool night air turned into a hot humid morning. A lone hyenareturned to the tree looking for food from last night's battle. Aninteresting scent caught his keen senses. His dry, cracked black nosetwitched back and forth testing the light gust of wind leading him tothe large tree. The sound of a crying baby caught his sizable ears ashe looked up toward the large branch.
Pacing back and forth with eager anticipation, he leapt for theblanket in the tree. Barely catching the corner, he exposed a smallleg. With the second leap, the snapping jaws closed on the danglingleg, ripping the flesh to the bone. The baby screamed in agony as thebranch shook from the force of the impact. Tasting blood excited thehyena. Running in circles under the tree to gain some momentum,he gathered his legs underneath him for the final leap.
The hyena's full attention was on the defenseless child and hedid not notice the Watinkee warriors running toward the tree. Ashis jaws started to close on the small dangling foot, the spear foundits mark in his chest. The hyena felt a blast of pain before he fell tothe ground, narrowly missing the exposed leg. His breathing camein gasps as he snapped at the massive spear embedded in his chest.As his eyes dimmed, a Watinkee warrior placed his foot on his headand yanked the spear from his body.
Reaching up, the warrior carefully dislodged the small infantfrom the branch. Strange, he thought, as he looked into the eyes ofthe infant that were as grey as the clouds in the sky and with hair aswhite as an old man's beard.
Dread rippled through the band of warriors as they searched forsigns of his mother and father. They saw from the tracks and half-eatencorpses of some of the hyena that a great battle had takenplace. A few hundred yards away the gristly remains of the twoproud warriors lay together. Scattered around them like leaves in aforest, were several dead hyenas. Beside the warriors was a spearof great artisanship with a golden eagle feather attached to it. Thisthey took to give to the boy when he grew up as a reminder of howhis parents sacrificed their lives for him.
CHAPTER 2
The Perfect Storm
Eighteen years later a cargo ship with four large triangular sails washeading around the coast of Africa. The captain was a small, rotundman with eyes the color of jade and bright red hair that hung to hisshoulders. His long flowing beard, streaked with grey and braidedinto two strands, tucked into his belt that held a ponderous belly.
He frowned at what he saw as his teeth ground into the smalltobacco pipe, furiously puffing the dark red ember. Smoke circledhis head clinging to his brow like a fluffy hat before disappearinginto the air.
His bright green eyes gazed across the ocean at large rolling blackclouds that grew and swelled with every passing moment. The largerectangular sails flapped listlessly against the masts. The still ocean,unusually calm, spelled trouble.
In the cargo bay was the treasure the captain was trying toprotect. A stallion with unusual large spots marking his body kickedat the stall, as if sensing the impending storm. A mare and her 3-year-oldcolt whinnied excitedly, aware of the stallion's uneasiness.
The King of Spain had given Captain Morgan the task oftransporting the highly prized stallion, mare and her colt aroundthe Cape of Good Hope to South Africa. The horses were a gift tothe governor of the colony.
A raindrop splashed on Captain Morgan's bulbous red nose. Atthat moment, he awoke from his reverie. The wind howled from theheavens and seemed to assail him from all directions at once. Tearinghis hat from his head and flinging his ruffled shirt wide open, the galepummeled his burly chest and portly stomach like a boxer in a ring.
Captain Morgan pointed a stubby finger at the first mate, yellingat the top of his lungs, "Man the sails! Turn to starboard! ALL HANDSON DECK!" The wind tore the words from his mouth and they werealmost lost in the torrent of rain and thunder.
The swarthy man standing next to him, terrified at the suddennessof the storm, turned to relay the orders to the crew. At that moment,a giant wave crashed into the ship and like a giant fist drove the maninto the mast with the force of a hammer on an anvil. Like graspingfingers the wave swirled and receded, slowly dragging his lifeless,broken body overboard to disappear forever into the dark depths.
The crew scrambled out of their quarters, rushing to theirassigned tasks. All were experienced crewmen and they knew thiswas no ordinary storm. Praying to their pagan gods, they workedside by side to steady the tossing ship and knew that it would takeextraordinary effort and all of their skills. Struggling against thewrath of the storm, each man desperately tried to do the work oftwo. The deafening noise of the thunder drowned out their franticscreams of terror. Jagged streaks of lightening lit up the sky for onlyfractions of an instant, but were enough for the men to see fearclearly etched on each of their faces.
The second mate clutched the wheel of the ship with a vise-likegrip as wave after wave of salt water pounded over him. He foughtdesperately to keep the ship upright. His strength was waning andhis muscles became rigid with fatigue. He slowly began to lose thebattle with the storm as his fingers loosened and slid off the wheel.
The captain grabbed a skinny man with terror-filled eyes anda wispy beard plastered to his pointed chin. Grimacing against theonslaught, Captain Morgan's two front gold teeth reflected the man'sfear as he bellowed, "Get down to the hold. Throw out anything ofweight that we don't need. Go now. Hurry! Take whoever you canfind to help!"
The man screamed at two stalwart men as he headed towardthe hold. Working furiously, they tied down the main mast withropes already slick with blood from their frantic hands. The threecrewmembers staggered through the swinging doors like drunkensailors after a night of revelry. Stumbling down the stairs, the threemen were tossed about like rag dolls while fighting the listing ship.
The horses, mad with terror, shrieked ear-piercing squeals,kicking their stalls to break free. The ship groaned and creaked,testing the strength of the seams and rivets. Muscles strained withdesperate urgency as the men dragged crate after crate throughthe hold and unceremoniously tossed them in the churning ocean.Water cascaded and funneled down the slippery steps making thework harder still. The ankle-deep water rose quickly around theirlegs in frothy swirls threatening to drown the exhausted crewmen.
The ocean tossed the ship around like a cork in a bottle. Windwhistled through portholes, sounding like drowning seamenscreaming defiant curses. Bolts of lightning split the sky in a jaggedcadence around the ship. The masts rocked back and forth, strainingto stay upright, dodging the electrically charged blue streaks thatseemed to get closer with every strike.
Captain Morgan glared fiercely into the face of the storm. Rainpelted his heaving chest and winds tore at his body, trying to dislodgehim from his perch on the deck. He raised a beefy, scarred fist andshook it furiously to the heavens.
