Chapter 2

The interior of the little hut was not so little. The outside was quite deceiving, Julie realized, or perhaps it was just that there was so little furniture. In the very center was something that looked like a combination of a stone fireplace and a stone stove with a central stone chimney reaching all the way up to a hole in the center of the hut. A small area of mats against one wall seemed to be a storage area. Everything in the hut was piled there, including dishes and pots, rolled mats and a cross cut from the trunk of some huge tree, perhaps a very old baobab tree. The men found a pair of kerosene lamps and lit them. There were shelves tied to both horizontal and vertical poles that comprised the skeleton of the hut, and the lamps were placed on two of these. Wood already in the stone stove was set ablaze, and the large cross cut of wood was drawn near the stove to serve as a table. Next, several mats were strewn around on the dirt floor, and Julie was pushed down onto one of them against one wall. No one seemed to be afraid that she would run away now, and indeed she knew better. The only place a white girl could run in the African jungle was into trouble, her father had always warned her.

As Julie sat waiting for whatever was going to happen next, she noticed some of the articles on other shelves around the hut. They all seemed to be carvings, apparently in wood. They were beautiful, often delicate and lacy. Someone appeared to be an excellent craftsman, and she couldn't help wonder if it could be one of these very men. Yet not one of them seemed capable of the kind of sensitivity necessary to produce what she saw. Not knowing whether she risked anything or not, Julie finally got to her feet. The temptation to look at them more closely was too great. She glanced at the men. Enhar and Dawak seemed occupied with the preparation of food. Balloo was carrying another bowl of svench to the table. Kubby was probing around among the many articles stored on the mats against a far wall. No one was watching her, and so she made her way stealthily to the nearest carving.

She soon discovered that it was perfectly permissible to walk around and look at the wooden pieces. She found that the lace effect was meant to represent the leaves of trees or maybe it was just bare branches and fruit. The only figures were gigantic animal totems and bird masks with the single exception of one human figure that was dressed the same in three places. Since the natives she knew never wore anything but trousers or loin clothes and the figure wore a drape from the neck to the ground, she guessed that it might be a representation of the local deity although it was possibly King Daranje Kawat. She didn't know. Neither she nor her father nor anyone else except his own people had ever seen the native king. She decided against asking. These people had a strange and uncertain set of taboos. She was afraid of losing her head over the wrong question!

Suddenly she noticed Balloo smiling at her, and she dropped back down to the mat on the floor without even thinking of it, as though her legs collapsed through some understanding of their own. She leaned more heavily against the rush wall where he had left her and was surprised to feel how sturdy it was. Since the black man kept staring at her, she drew her arm around her tits. They hung loose and were partly exposed from a large tear in the upper part of her nightgown, caused by their struggles in the car. The cotton panties that were a part of her nightgown were gone, and she felt naked and vulnerable to his staring.

"You weel be good to the others, too, until tomorrow, hey you?" Balloo finally spoke to her.

She remained silent. She could not answer.

"I ask good question. You give good answer," he suddenly spat at her and walked to her side.

Still Julie did not move or make a sound. Her heart was lodged tightly in her throat in fear. Suddenly she heard before she felt, the loud sound of a hard slap echoing through the grass-walled room as the native man who had just so brutally raped her, swung his arm in a wide arc and brought the palm of his hand down hard across her face.

"l can hit badder," he warned ominously. "I give good question."

"W... what do you want from me?" she managed to stammer finally as the sting on her face brought a thin stream of tears to her eyes.

"You weel be good to the others, too," he said. He was no longer asking a question. He was demanding.

"Y... yes," she finally said quietly. She could see the cold cruel glint in his dark eyes and knew that any sign of resistance right now would only bring further pain and indignities from him. He was obviously the leader of this band and could not under any circumstances run the risk of being stood up against in front of them, at least not successfully. He would strike back just as he had warned... badder! The natives worshipped strength among other things. She sensed that if he lost his prestige in this matter with them, he would lose all. Who could tell what such repercussions would take place. She knew little about the native habits and rituals. Therefore, she was afraid. Perhaps his behavior was only the law of the wild, of the jungle, the male lion fighting for leadership of the pride as well as the women that went with it, or should she say lionesses. She didn't feel very much like a lioness.

Upon hearing her agreement, Balloo smiled arrogantly down at her and tweaked her cheek with his thumb and forefinger.

"She ees a woman to grind," Enhar suggested.

"Good," Balloo commented, and Julie was frightened. She didn't know what "grind" meant, but they had just been talking about her taking care of the men, and her imagination was limited by the desperate images Balloo had planted.

Balloo then grabbed her arm and pulled her up, shoving her toward the tall thin Dawak, who chortled, then pushed her in his turn toward the fat Enhar. They were all indulging in their usual chuckling and giggling. There was no longer any sense in the hopeless resistance she had put up at first. Her only chance for even staying alive, she suspected, was to keep close to Balloo. She was certain that his hard outward approach to her was an act to show the others that he could be cold and cruel, for he seemed to have developed a sense of protectiveness toward her that might keep the others away... for a little while anyway.

Enhar sat her down on another mat and handed her a very large wooden bowl of seeds and a stone for a pestle. She understood and relieved, started to grind the kernels. She hoped and prayed that she would be forced to grind them all night long! She showed her obedience by setting assiduously to work under the eyes of Balloo whom she knew she must take special pains to please. She dared not alienate him or he might be forced to show his control over her by letting the others take advantage of her as he had done. The missionary's young daughter vowed to herself that she would rather die and would do all in her power to avoid being used in that way again.

Julie bent to the grinding with as much energy as she could muster after the horrible beating her muscles had taken. She was surprised, though, that the soreness between her legs was not more acute, considering the ravishment she had undergone. Of course, she did a lot of horseback riding between the mission and town. Perhaps that had loosened her for the final assault that Enhar had submitted her to, followed by Balloo. She didn't know which was worse! This was the first time since leaving the car that she thought about those things. She had been in a complete state of shock since the natives had first grabbed her, and now, even though her consciousness was beginning to clear, she still could not recall all the bitter details of what had happened or why it had happened.

Why had they used her like this? Sheer lust couldn't be the answer unless they were absolute animals, and the thought was gradually sinking into her mind that perhaps they were. Her father claimed that they had human souls to save. She would have preferred to let those souls live their own lives and allow her and her family to return to normal civilization, but she had never questioned that they were human beings. She had never questioned it before! But if they were not driven by animal lust alone, what did they hope to accomplish with all their brutality? What intelligent plan could account for this?

"Give the Missa Julie food," she heard Balloo ordering someone, and then the lanky Dawak brought her a wood slat with one of the native pan breads on it. It was probably the same kind of food for which she was in the process of grinding flour right now. She had seen it made before. It was only flour with animal fat and water and cooked in small loaves right on top of the hot stones of the stove. The natives had plenty of goats, but there didn't seem to be any milk products here now. She would have liked some cheese or butter. The bread would be like sawdust without it, and she wasn't hungry. But she ate, ate and smiled. She ate to please!

Kubby was the one with the best view. He sat facing her, and without looking up, she knew very well his eyes were glued tightly to her almost entirely visible body beneath the tattered nightgown she was wearing. It had been ripped and torn in so many places that there was very little material left to cover her completely naked body hiding beneath. While she ate, she concentrated on keeping her arm pinned down to the side of her left tit so the material wouldn't fall open in front of Kubby. She knew this would be fatal. They were already all worked up so badly by watching Balloo rape her in the back seat of the car, that it wouldn't take much to set them off again. As soon as she finished her little loaf of the bread, she concentrated on studying the four primitives who were holding her prisoner.

Kubby was not very tall, maybe five-five, she guessed. But what he lacked in height, he certainly made up for in build. He was broad and stocky, and as she studied him, she remembered the way he had walked from the car to the hut. It had reminded her dimly of an ape with his bare torso and his long swinging arms that were out of proportion to the rest of his body. It almost appeared as though he could touch the ground without bending over much farther than his natural stance. His face was thick and his broad nose flat, more the central African type as she understood it, rather than Senegalese.

Dawak, her guardian in the car, was tall and thin, not as muscular as the others, which explained why holding her down was such a strain for him. He seemed to know that he did not measure up in some way. His eyes stayed blatantly on her when she looked at him almost as if to say that his lack of strength didn't matter; he was every bit as tough as the others. There was an innate cold cruelty in his dark eyes that she could not otherwise explain except by his possible sense of inferiority. Anyway, she had no desire to challenge him and was grateful that he was held in check out of fear of Balloo's authority. She wondered what would happen to her if Balloo were not here!

. Balloo, on the other hand, was strong and well-built, and he carried himself with an arrogant confidence befitting his position as leader of the little band. He had long sensuous hands that she could still remember coursing over her body as he had ravished her in the car. His nails were long and sharp, and she still winced slightly each time she moved from the marks he had made on her body while he was stroking her. He, too, had a certain cold aloofness about him that repulsed and frightened her. It was almost as though he possessed nothing whatsoever in the way of human compassion. There was no doubt of the tremendous strength he possessed. She could still feel the welts from his fingers on her hips and upper thighs where he had grasped her when he was pulling himself into her.

Enhar, now, was repulsive to her, and she suspected that he was not very bright. His build was much like Kubby's, except that he was older and less in proportion. His head was far too small for his body, and he kept it shaved, showing off a myriad of bumps. His limping walk, as though his feet were disorganized, added to the off-balance physical appearance he made. His eyes were small and sunk deep in his head, not the usual Senegalese either, but more so than Kubby. She was afraid of Enhar, not so much because of what he had done to her in the car, but because he looked the least human of the group. He looked as though he had no reasoning power at all. Tonight was not the first time she had noticed this, either. As little as she paid attention to her father's so- called "flock," she had definitely noticed Enhar from time to time and shuddered. She had thought before that there would be no reasoning or mercy if she ever came under his power, that it was unpredictable what he might do if his natural instincts were unleashed from the accepted human restrictions. Of course, she had never dreamed in the remotest way, that such a time would come to pass. God help her now!

She could detect each of them turning to stare at her out of the corners of their eyes with hungry animalistic gazes that could mean only one thing. Still, they continued eating. She kept her eyes on Balloo as she cowered back against the wall, grinding in the big bowl again after hurriedly finishing the bit of bread given her. She felt that it was stuck all the way down her throat and around in the lining of her stomach. The firelight now burned brightly in the stone stove, elongating weird silhouettes of the men across the dirt floor and against the grass walls.

Out of grim necessity, she had accepted Balloo as protector. She felt like a wild dog in a pack or a doe, following the strongest buck. To think that a few short hours ago, she had been a sheltered and innocent little religious girl who believed in all the things she had learned about the value of her protected virginity. Suddenly she saw her femininity as a means of survival. Once she had thought that she could choose a nice young religious boy and settle down with him in a nice chaste religious marriage and the entire world would keep hands off. But that was a fairy tale like Santa Claus! Why did adults like her father go on teaching such fairy tales that made their children so vulnerable in a world where strength and cunning meant survival whatever we wish to think! A few short hours ago she still had dreams of an ideal fairy tale mate whom she must seek! Very abruptly she realized that her mate must be the strongest in the pack, the strongest she could attract in whatever circumstances. Right now she must choose Balloo and make him feel the full the full effect his protective strength had so that he would be inspired to use it... for her sake! He wanted her now and she had no choice but to choose him if she were to escape the others. Maybe by choice, she meant cooperation.

It was apparent also that Balloo could feel the power he now possessed over the young, naive white girl as he ate with a quiet confidence, never once raising his eyes to look at her like the others. He knew she was there and knew she was his by virtue of his leadership of the gang. His hold on her was his strength and the protection he offered her. On the other hand, he had to be trustworthy as a leader as well. Enhar had been easily eliminated for his foolish mistake, but he still owed Dawak and Kubby the fruits of his promise. As he ate silently, he tried to think of some way to keep his promises while at the same time breaking them! He didn't want to hand her over. She was his!

"Give some svetch to her," he ordered suddenly, pointing to the bowl they all drank from in common. "But a small bowl!"

Kubby jumped up to fetch a small bowl from the storage area and then poured her a generous amount from the larger bowl on the table. She had to stop grinding to take it.

"Drink and don't stop," Balloo commanded her, reveling in demonstrating his power over her to the others. They were all chuckling, of course.

Julie raised the little bowl and took a small sip, feeling the hot pulpy tasting liquid burning all the way down to her stomach. It certainly burned the bread away! It also made her feel slightly sick until she saw Balloo's eyes glued to her out of the corner of her own eye, and she tilted the bowl again to take a greater swallow. She almost coughed it up but with a supreme effort, managed to hold it down. A faint lightheadedness swirled through her as she raised tilted the bowl again and turned it bottom-up as quickly as she could finish the warm fluid to the last drop.

"Sheen do it!" Enhar said with a gleeful ring to his voice. "I tell her do," Balloo said proudly. "She is Balloo's woman no one can have unless I geev!"

"Hey you!" Kubby protested shrilly immediately. "You already geev!"

"Aaaawwwww," Balloo hedged. "She leetle. I gotta teach!" He rose from his mat and grabbed Julie by the arm, pushing her roughly back toward the stove. Though it appeared to the others that he was hurting her, she could feel a certain restraint in his movement that almost bordered on gentleness. She understood that he had to be firm in front of the others to maintain his status, and she let herself be carried limply along with him across the room.

"Now I teach," he announced and reached to the back of Julie's tattered nightgown and ripped it down the back in one mighty jerk. The flimsy material split without effort and floated uselessly to the ground. Unconsciously she gasped when she realized what he had done and tried desperately to recover the last remnants of clothing she had left with which to cover her nakedly exposed body.

"Leave it," she heard Balloo's voice command from above her. "Thees is first white ass for us. "They never see." He indicated the others with a gesture of his hand. He didn't seem to expect her to be concerned about her nudity, and her father had said that the native women wore nothing on top just like the men, and that they would have to change that if he could induce the women to come to him at all. The men came, apparently not learning much thought Julie wryly, but the women did not.