Kulonga

By Vincent N. Darlage

            Kulonga Ogun of the Nyatui tribe knew what he had to do.  The chore was frightening and hateful, but the thing had to be done.  Kulonga, a tall dark warrior from the jungles of Bakari, hunted his prey with deadly determination.  He moved with the grace of a hunting cat, showing power and strength far more subtly than does mere muscled bulk.  Kulonga was lithe and quick, a savage hunter.  He had short black hair.  A headpiece decorated with three plumes of long slender plumes taken from the sakabonyi bird was on his head.  Armlets of long white ox hairs carefully selected from the tail of an ox ornamented his biceps, and leg bands similar to the armlets were on the calves of his legs.  The beautiful skin of a lion was belted around his loins, hanging down in front to the middle of his thighs.

            In Kulonga's right hand he held a short stabbing spear, an assagai, favored by his tribe.  On his back, three javalins were securely strapped by a leather harness.  His left hand supported his shield, an oval piece of ox-hide, black in color with grey spots, held by a lone stick around which this shield pivoted.  His feet were bare.

            The Thing he hunted was evil.  It had killed his family.  It had killed his friends.  It had killed his entire tribe.  Kulonga, a skilled hunter, had tracked this Beast through the jungle and found a second devastated village.  He hated this Thing, this evil creation of the most vile of gods.  As he dwelt on the thoughts of the upcoming deed his sensitive ears caught a sound.  He was coming up on his prey.  Kulonga stooped down and approached, as silent as a stalking panther, his lithe form gliding through the underbrush.  Quick as a snake, he dropped his assagai and lashed out his right arm, catching a small white-skinned child.  The pale child screamed pitifully as the Nyatui warrior threw the small body against the bole of a tree.  He picked up his short spear and shoved it mercilessly into the child's body.  The boy screamed in agony and hatred as the weapon pierced his flesh, stapling him to the tree.  Kulonga gathered dry brush and kindling and started a fire beneath the boy's impaled body.  The child writhed and screamed as the flames licked his young, tender flesh.

            An hour later, only a blackened corpse hung there, suspended by the charred shaft of the assagai.  What skin was left was shrivelled and shrunken, but most of the skin had been burnt away, leaving crisp muscles and blackened brittle bones exposed to view.  Kulonga watched in silence.  The head rolled to one side and the mouth fell open as if to scream, but only oily black smoke issued from the foul, black lips of the devil child.  The reign of terror was over.  Kulonga took his axe and chopped the evil head off at the neck.