Bride of the Serpent God

Ki-Gor, Lord of the Jungle Bride of the Serpent God
by John Peter Drummond

I. - Treachery
KI-GOR placed a plump, scarlet berry in his mouth, and munched slowly, with much satisfaction. He lay in the cool shade of a flowering shrub, completely relaxed, obviously at peace with the world and pleased with life in general. The only sounds were the soft hum of insects drawn by the heavy scent of flowers and the lulling murmur of the broad river which flowed a scant twenty paces from where Ki-Gor rested.
Helene, his mate, vibrantly young and alive, stood beside Ki-Gor. She looked down at her lounging husband and feigning disapproval, she placed hands on hips and sighed with disgust.
"You lazy thing, Ki-Gor. Are you going to lie there all day eating berries?" she asked, pouting lips as red and much more inviting than the fruit which had occupied her Jungle Lord the past half hour.
The bronzed giant stirred only slightly, and without opening his eyes, he plumped another luscious berry in his mouth, and began chewing contentedly. But a little boy's smile of guilt slowly edged his lips, as he opened one cautious eye to peer at the accusing figure of his wife.
"For two days, Mister Ki-Gor, you've been rushing me along like mad, saying you had an important meeting here with Tembu George," she said, pointing a meaning finger at the Jungle Lord. "Now that we are here, I find no Tembu George, no important meeting, nothing but a lot of fruit you persist in stuffing yourself with because it is the nearest and easiest thing at hand!"
Ki-Gor's gray eyes opened wide in a great show of innocence. He made a valiant, though completely unsuccessful, effort to show hurt dismay that Helene would doubt his motives for a moment.
"Why, Helene, you know how healthful fruit is, and the fact it happens to be hanging right at arm's reach from me has nothing to do with my eating it," he righteously pointed out. "And you know also how very good rest is to build a person up. That's the only reason I am lying down."
The red-haired girl looked at the superbly proportioned body of her mate, and burst out laughing. "You certainly look like you need to be built up, you frail little mountain of a man!"
"Well, anyway," he grinned, "it is only proper to show adequate appreciation of gifts so conveniently and lavishly provided for us by nature." Stretching out his hand he urged, "Here, try some of these berries you'll find them delicious."
Helene tossed her red hair in a definite negative reply, and nudged Ki-Gor's ribs with one small foot.
"I will not let you fill me up on those things," she declared. "You promised to catch me some fish for lunch if I would hurry, and I want my fish!"
Ki-Gor shook his head apologetically. "Wrong time of day. Never catch fish this time of day. Better wait until morning."
He watched the slim, briefly clad girl turn with a switch of her hips and walk to where his spear rested on the ground. She bent, picked it up, and returned to place it across his chest.
"I want fish!" she said.
The white man glanced from spear to river, and reflected sadly, "Too muddy. I could never get anything in that muddy water. Besides, Tembu George is due to arrive any minute, and there wouldn't be time to cook fish even if we caught any."
"Fish, Ki-Gor!" Helene stated, catching the arm of the feebly protesting Jungle Lord, tugging mightily. With much groaning he got to his feet, and then abruptly he swept Helene up under one arm, and grasping the spear with the other, strode toward the river, humming loudly and tunelessly.
"Put me down, Ki-Gor! Don't you dare throw me in that river!" Helene cried, wriggling and kicking as she tried to escape. On he strode, unperturbed by the rising din of her cries. At the very edge of the bank, he halted, carefully putting his spear down. He appeared to debate as to where to throw the laughing, struggling girl, and then his solemn face breaking into a smile, he carefully set her down on the bank.
"Now sit there, and don't go puddling around the river bank," he told her, "because there are some very discerning crocodiles hereabouts who would like nothing better than a red-haired, long-legged young lady for dessert today."
"Yes, sir," she replied. "Now you go to work."
Helene watched the agile grace with which the big man crouched and picked up the spear. He straightened, threw back his massive shoulders, and walked several steps away to where the bank overhung a quiet, deep pool. He studied the spot, and then satisfied, he bent to one knee, holding the spear ready.
Minutes passed, and the motionless Jungle Lord was a graven image, his keen,