Blood and Diamonds.

[Owlparrot3]

Prolouge.(Hey Darksam)

Father,

Today 13th November 1891, its my 27th birthday.I know that at this moment you would have wanted me to be at our posh Long island home.But alas i am away at a corner of the world where you cannot reach me.But does this mean i do not like you,no sir.When i finished my commerce education you allowed me to learn history despite our Stock broking business needing help.Then you allowed me to also join the military for 3 years!I thank you graciously for that sir.But then 2 months fater i came back home from camp i disappeared again.I know that it would have grieved you and my mother immensly.I apologise for that.But then living there surrounded by the smoke and noise of the city and our business surrounded by the stench of easy money and rich people's small talk began to bore me.I tried,i tried several times to adjust but..........in the end i could not.Hence taking $10000 i left home.Now i am travelling the world.I will not tell you where i am .But i will give you a clue just for my conscience .I am currently working for an organization which guards the biggest private property in the world.My employer is rich and powerfull and i like the work he gives me.I am paid well and am actually living the life i like.Maybe some day i will return back to the states and reattempt to live life according to your expectations but for now pardon me.
Give my love to Mother.
I know that my Fordham will be happy too.Dont forget to take him out for walks daily.

Yours graciously
William Trent.


George Trent,a respectable Wall street broker in Long Island recieved this letter in 10 February 1892 after a long delay.
Unknown to the American oversees post the letter had been enclosed with a seal of the force publique which was removed with a private bribe.




Welcome to Blood and Diamonds,a new story by mad orc ,co written by Norse thing.Experience a bloody private war in a way you never did.The Congo arab war.



Disclaimer .

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

This story is a fictionalization of real facts .What i have done is that i have or rather we have tied in a fictional character to detailed real facts .I have tried to take minimal artistic liberties in the other than day to day facts .Whatever William does only slightly affects the real story or in many cases he is an instrument to be used by the Belgians in a battle that really happened and described in detail by me from sources .
And yet there might be some artistic liberties like the depiction of some real life characters like the doctor ,forgive me for those .

Map for reference.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[Owlparrot3]

Chapter 1.

1890s-The Belgian Congo was one of the biggest private property in the world owned not by Belgium, but only by King Leopold 2.Under him the Belgians commited some of the worst atrocities of the colonial era.But there were others who commited even cruel atrocities .People such as the arab slave traders.To guard this vast Private property the Belgians needed a force which would recruit the best talent from the world.This meant that membership would not only be restricted to Belgians.So various mercenaries and Fillibusters joined the group.Many like William Trent who were bored with their civilized settled life began to rush to the Belgian Congo.

William Trent was born in 1864,the son of Respectable New York stockbroker George Trent.In 1889 at the age of 25 after serving in the military for 3 years he vanished from the house one day.He went to Belgian Congo where with the help of a connected friend he gained outside admission with the Force Publique.Within mere months he had shown unimaginable feats of bravery and tact against revolting tribes and Arab Slave traders and was feliciated by Francis Dhanis.The encouragement of Dhanis proved to be a major factor and in early 1891 he received a strange secret letter.On it was a seal of the King Leopold2.According to the letter Trent was officially removed from the Force Publique and was to be given free rein in guarding Leopold's territories.In simpler terms the high command wanted to hire Trent as a private muscle to do their dirty jobs,some from outside the law.With promise of big money,there was no way Trent could refuse and thus begins a story of deceit,murder,war and suffering.But most importantly thrill.

The message arrived at noon on a February day in 1892.Coded as usual delivered by a single trusted horseman.It was signed by general Kruger.The grandmaster.At that time William was camping alone in a forest in Katagna.After decoding,it was something like this

William Trent,
The ivory traders in Poueto are refusing to pay up our 'special' 'extra' taxes.Why not go pay their camp a visit and persuade them.After all the country needs the money.They have got a small lodge in the camp.Nothing wondrous,just a native who serves tea,paltry food and 5 to 6 small rooms with beds.Maybe if you can go,give the camp a visit and sort things out,then we will be greatfull.Payment in diamonds as you like.
About breaking the law.Avoid it if you can,do it if you must.You will be covered.
Yours graceously.
Kruger.

Pueto was a small town outpost.Near it was a vast jungle full of roaming herds of animals.A heaven for ivory traders.The Dreksen ivory camp was like those trade unions they had back at home.A small camp was built by the same Adalgar Dreksen who also started the union.A few years before after mounting attacks by natives and Arabs,the union had requested the high command to supply them with some soldiers who could patrol the jungles and ensure safety for the trade,in return the union would pay a tax free payment to some higher ups.The soldiers did come but they did not stay.After news of the patrols arrival had spread,the tribals and Arabs stopped the harassment and moved to other areas.So the senior officers ordered the soldiers to leave and stop patrolling Pueto.But they still expected the union to pay up the cash.This was intolerable to them and so in a mark of defiance they outright refused to pay up threatening instead that they would take this story to the press.The high command realised that the only way to teach them a lesson was to send someone with the right talents after them.

5 February 1892.

It was evening when that strange outsider arrived at the Dreksen camp.Dressed in the kind of clothes adventurers wear,this man came confidently inside the lodge like a regular.Once inside he went straight to the bar and ordered the local wine.Leaning against the wall he removed his hat slowly and sighed.After the drink had arrived he took the glass and sat on a single chair in a corner of the saloon.The regulards anxiously watched him until he finished his drink.

It was only when he got up and gestured for a small snack that one of the regulars ,a middle aged ivory trader called Van Huesen asked him silently "Pray sir,what's your name,you dont look like no regular in these parts".

"For the matter i am not sir"replied the man.

"So,a new ivory trader huh?" asked Van.

"No"was simply the answer.

"But then why are you in the camp"asked a frutuated Van.

"I am err........in service and i like to follow the call of the wild,ever since i was school,i have held a certain fascination for elephants"said the man.

"Well,then let me ask you a few questions,just for fun eh"said Van.

"Go ahead "was the curt reply.

"Can a new born elephant see?"asked Van.

"Nope"said the man now revealing his American accent.

"Can he stand?"asked Van.

"Yes Sir"said the man.

"Whats their lifespan"asked Van.

"About 50-70 years are fine enough"said the man.

"Ah,an easy one for last sir,i hope its no problem since your eat's arrived"asked Van.

"Go on"said the man.

"Why does an elephant live"asked Van."Err.......to help us humans of course sir,and for ivory"said the man with a change of tone.

"Marvellous"shouted Van.

"You are a correct man sir,not only do you understand elephants but your temprament is just right for this camp,come let me introduce you to some like minded fellows"said Van.

The man having eaten just a morsel stopped and shyly said "Ok".

[Alwyn]

Good start! I'm intrigued both by the historical setting which you have chosen and by the idea of a co-written piece of creative writing. William Trent sounds like an interesting character. (When you write dialogue, as in the last paragraph of chapter 1, I suggest considering starting each comment by a different speaker on a new line:

Spoiler for ... like this...: 

It was only when he got up and gestured for a small snack that one of the regulars a middle aged ivory trader called Van Huesen asked him silently "Pray sir,what's your name,you dont look like no regular in these parts".

"For the matter i am not sir" replied the man.

"So,a new ivory trader huh?" asked Van.

"No" was simply the answer.

"But then why are you in the camp"asked a frustrated Van.

"I am err........in service and i like to follow the call of the wild,ever since i was school, i have held a certain fascination for elephants" said the man.

"Well, then let me ask you a few questions, just for fun eh" said Van.

"Go ahead "was the curt reply.

"Can a new born elephant see?"asked Van.

"Nope" said the man now revealing his American accent.

"Can he stand?"asked Van.

"Yes Sir" said the man.

"Whats their lifespan" asked Van.

(You don't have to do that, but I think it makes the dialogue easier to follow). Looking forward to more!

[NorseThing]

A great start. Modesty requires me to point out that I have done nothing yet to deserve the co writing credit. I must admit there is nothing so poor that little me could improve on though.

[Owlparrot3]

Dont worry about it,soon you will feel well desrved enough,i need some moral support.I have not even started with you yet.

Alwyn,i will improve the dialouge lines.I like it that many people are liking this idea of a dirty war where only people with the wits and will can survive.

Thanks for commenting .Remember that your comments are like fuel for me.Without comments i dont get the motivation to write.Yup i am not great enough to write for my own happiness,i need some readers who react.

Rep too is coming.

[Owlparrot3]

Chapter2.

The men were laughing loudly.When Van had introduced the man to his fellows they had striked up more conversations with him and he had managed to woo them all and so the conversation streched on till dawn.One of them,a man called Stugrat was more curious though "So Mr.err............".
"Mr.Trent,William Trent"said the unknown man .
"Yeah Trent,Sir what is the precise reason for you coming here"asked Stugrat.
"Well,i guess i should tell it finally,or rather confess it,actually i am a small time Ivory trader,not like you,only for interest,not for money,back home my rich elder brother gives me my share of the royalties every month"said Trent pausing for a sip of night coffee which the natives were adapt at making.
"And then,what next"asked Stugrat.
"I am not actually Belgian,i worked in British Zanzibar,the work was good,until we heard rumours that Tippu Tipu the slave trader is brutally extorting from European traders again,then a buddy of mine told me that Belgian better protects its citizens,so he told me to go there,when i first crossed into the border i had a special pass of nobility with me so i striked up a conversation with guards,and i couldnt believe that they really care about their countrymen,you folks are lucky to be living in Belgium"said Trent.
"Huh,maybe we are"sighed one of the group.
"Tippu,Tipu is at it again,are you sure that this news is not fake"said Van suddenly getting serious.
"I am 100% sure sire,i myself saw some of them in the valley near Katagna"said Trent.
"Very well,umm.......why dont you go take a rest sir,we need to err talk on some boring subjects"said one of them suddenly.
Surprisingly Trent immediately got up and left without a word.Not many saw that he hadnt drunk his coffee at all.
Back in his small salon room Trent quickly took out his notebook and wrote.
Stage1.(Soft approach)-Done.

Of the 900 odd ivory traders in the union about 430 paid up the taxes out of sheer fear.William Tent continued to mix with the traders and watch as their union slowly decayed from within."I think you should atleast be given a say in there senior Jacobs"said Trent one day to the spokesman of the union while our hunting in a pack of two,Walter Jacobs."I am happy man,what can my superior do,his hands are tied as well"said Jacobs."Then lets talk to him"said Trent.
"Ok"replied Jacobs.
Unlike Jacobs,his superior in the union ,a man named Dubois was a far more egoistic man,he fell for the trap.

A few days later:


It was early in the morning. The sun was still casting long shadows.


Thomas, the native, was cutting firewood for the day's cooking fires. Suddenly, he saw 3 strange figures on the small hillock near the lodge. He watched closely. He shrieked loudly. First the shrieks were in his native language out of sheer terror. Then in German after he had came to his senses.


"Arabs,Arabs,the no good men,save,Arabs,sirs,save,save." shrieked Thomas
"What happened Jacobs?" shouted Trent while upholstering his gun.
"Arabs,sire,save,save" said a still overwrought Thomas.


Realizing the situation, Trent raised his Colt pistol. Bam!! He managed to hit one Arab. It was a very lucky shot. Maybe a character out of a Sir Arthur Conan Doyle novel might have noticed that Trent did not carefully aim at the critical main part of the body. It is always harder to fire at a moving living person than at a fixed target. He made no attempt to call the lodgers. He said nothing to Thomas. He reholstered his gun. The incident was closed.


The next day:


The taxman came. All the members paid up.


Had the Belgians been able to read the papyrus sheets brocraded with gold on which the slave traders meticulously wrote their accounts,they would have understood that the 3 arabs who had attacked the lodge had quit their jobs many months ago.

A few days later Trent was still in the lodge,enjoying his stay when Van came to his room."What's it Van"asked Trent."An old friend of yours called Woodstock wants to meet you"said Van."Huh.Woodstock"asked Trent."Yeah"said Van.
"Ok call him in"said Trent.
A strange man in his fourties came inside.He was dressed in gentlemanly clothes absolutely not belonging to the frontier.But what he said next proved that he belonged here after all.
"Here's the diamonds,and the next job,says general Kruger"said he .
A minute later he was gone.
An hour later Trent was gone from the lodge too.

[Owlparrot3]

Chapter3.

It was not in any settlement but in a tent upon a mountain that William Trent read the letter.

William Trent.
You did fine in that ivory camp,i am amazed by the quick results.How you managed it without violence is beyond me,but now there is a job in which violence is the only option left.There is this snooty guy,a press man from Brussels,he has found out something sensitive.So i offered him money.He refused.So then i sent men after him.He escaped them and now he is hiding in an old mangannese mine in Loukakou.Up until the time it gave manganese it was fine.But then when the reserves of that second grade metal died up,some workers spread a rumor that there was gold in those mines too.So the mine was flooded with peospectors,criminals and other low lifes.Now had they been coloured,i could have sent more experienced but morraly sound killers but they are unfortunately inbred white Afrikaans.Always drunken.Before you i sent a band of mercenaries from France,they never returned.The mounties found their bodies a week later.Go there and take that man down.While nobody cares if you use excessive violence,avoid mass murder,many snotnosed liberals and press people are scouring the Congo for news.Dont give them fodder.But as always massacre and butcher,if you must.
Yours graciously
Kruger.
Description and documents enclosed.

William's throat was parched and he struggled to wipe of the sweat off his brow.The mine in Loukalou was near a small hill in the middle of a dense forest of Maobi and timber trees.The first miners had cut a large part of that forest and made a valley of clear land for mining.It was not really a big mine.Just a small place and a cave which was presumably where most of the manganese came up from the ground.
But today was a special day for Trent because it had been 4 days since he had arrived here.For the first few days,he had carefully observed the mine.Never once had he grown impatient.He knew that he could only take one shot and that too after he was sure.He had camped on a hill near the mine where every man was in range of his sniper scoped Lee-Metford rifle.The miners were too foolish or drunk to ever scout the land at day or question the faint little fire that would be lit every night on the hill near them.As a rock William had scoped the mine out for days and nights waiting for that press man who by his description could be easily distinguishable.The heat of the day and the cold of the night had not affected him.It was as if he had been born to do this work.

For the first 1 and half days,nothing had happened.The man did not make an appearance or even if he did William much to his own dismay had not been able to see him.Then at afternoon on the 2nd day he had struck luck.Dressed in ragged clothes a man came out of the cave,he was shivering with fear.He looked like a white Afrikaan but he walked with confidence of a European despite fear.William had known then and there that this was his man.The next morning on the third day,he had noticed something which completely confirmed the man's identity .Embedded in his pocket was a singular gold fountain pen!Quickly William did something amazing.With one eye in his scope looking at the man ,he used his other eye to draw a rough sketch of the man with his defining features.Things like his funny nose which was crushed and his long fingers.It was then that he noticed another thing.Any local white man would have some tan but this man didn't have much.Another proof of his identity.

And so here William was with bated breath,one eye closed,another in his scope and his finger on the trigger on the 5th day with a perfect opportunity in his pocket.The man for the first time in 15 days was drinking alcohol out with the gang members."Guess he finally found the cure to this hellish life"said William in his mind.

Around the man were 4 more people all seated on wooden chairs undoubtedly made in that same mine.The man was narrating something which the others were listening with amazement.William was ready to make his escape quick.His bag had been packed and his shoelaces tied.The only problem was the wind.He had kept a flag near him and he was waiting for it to go still.

After a few moments the flag went still.Quickly he centered his aim on the man who was now so drunk that his story had stopped.Boom.
The shot went off.It hit him right on the neck.Had a judge been appointed to judge the shot at this long distance he would have exclaimed 'Marvellous'.But in William's mind it was a miss shot,he had aimed for the middle of the forehead.

Nobody noticed the man dead for a whole minute because everyone around him was drunk.By the time the men around the dead body began to investigate,they were dumbfounded as to where the shot came from.William had long fled.His horse parked at some distance had been ready already.

But wait up,there's more to this happening.William left too early,had he waited for an hour more,he could have seen and understood his future.The men were barely starting to recover from the shock and begun arrangements for burying the dead man when a hail of bullets and spears fell like rain around them.That night the investigator arrived from a nearby town and his report was 'The Arabs have killed 4 and wounded 17 Belgian citizens,among them a respectable political writer called Mr.Leon Spaak'.

The first flames of war had come.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

January 1912.

The man stopped his story and took a large swig of water.There was another man with a medal of Scotland yard on his chest.Presently the other man said "Ah,all this is very interesting Mr.Tent,your third person accounts also help me to catch up with the events that we know as history.Had you not told the story in such a professional manner and had i not had the time......and had you not been a respectable gentleman with so many medals i would have simply hit you till you cough up the confession,but lets just say i would like you to tell it your way,go on with your confession."."Thanks" said the first man polishing his beard and adjusting his glasses.

[NorseThing]

Good to see a few updates. I am curious where this will turn after that loaded letter. Kruger does not strike me a man that takes kindly towards the weak or the morally upright. I think if this character continues, it will be without a good end for Trent. Unless Kruger and Trent are of the same moral compass. of course. I still do not really know the man we call Trent though. More chapters and thus more to learn!

[Owlparrot3]

If i recall correctly norse thing,i have sent you the full story summarised till the end.Go read it.

Thanks fo commenting anyway.But hey....................no,you are a co-writer,you should comment.

[NorseThing]

My 'comments' are like feeding the village cooking fire.

[Owlparrot3]

What do you mean

[NorseThing]

You need to keep interest up. A cooking fire needs to be tended on a regular basis. It harder to start up than to keep it going. To a degree, this is why I seem to be taking so long to start up my AAR. I do not want to post three or four chapters and then need to stop posting for a month because I cannot keep the posts moving forward. A steady progress is better than a huge post with lots of time before the next post.

[Owlparrot3]

Chapter4.

In March and April 1892, Tippu Tip's son Sefu bin Hamid began to lead various attacks on Congo Free State (CFS) personnel in the eastern Congo, including the British ivory trader Arthur Hodister—sent by the Syndicat Commercial du Katanga to 'acquire' ivory—and Captain Guillaume Van Kerckhoven, who had been confiscating ivory by force from several powerful Arab traders.These expeditions played a huge role in uniting the arab slave traders and minor native warlords like Gongo Lutete in the region, in the fight against their common enemy, the Congo Free State. In 1892 The Times reported that, during further explorations in the Congo, Hodister was captured and killed, his head stuck on a pole. Relations were further strained when Rashid ben Mohammed, Tippu Tip's nephew and resident Arab leader in Stanley Falls, refused to assist in the investigation of Hodister's death.Gongo Lutete also led actions in the east at this time.

During this time William heavily self trained himself in scouting and sniping though books and accounts of famous scouts.He also purchased through his blood money much goods for being on a strict diet to develop his physical and mental strength.Kruger gave him no more jobs at this time and he did various odd jobs for the various ground commanders like Francis Dhanis who had undoubtedly been instructed by Kruger about William's extraordinary talents and given instructions to use his services to their advantage.

In the second week of April William was called to Leopoldville to be ready until further action.But he was not asked to help out in the many skirmishes happening around the border of the CFS much to his dismay,he loved his job.It was on the 27th of April that he was given a job,that of accompaining some important gentlemen from Europe and scores of 'Bangala' natives on a steamer called the 'Stanely' on a voyage.The fact that no other descriptions were given seemed sinister.The date that the voyage would set sail was 29th!

The 'Stanely' was a thirty ton stern wheeled paddle steamer.It would on this particular voyage tow two whaleboats full of men.A total of 60 Bangala ,3 white officers and 15 Belgian soldiers along with Trent made up the party.For William this seemed like a boring job and a boring life on first sight that is.Even as everyone was making preparations to set sail Tent observed the Bangala carefully.They were resourcefull natives who were good at fighting and sailing.Though of course he could not trust them with his baggage of money and private weapons.They wore their hair in large pigtails and made strange alterations to the space between their nose and forehead with heated pins.This made them look fearsome in battle.But the Bangala had a major problem.Their culture was centered around cannibalism.While the same was prohibited by Belgian authorities,the Bangala continued to resist it and so many times had Bangala people been hanged or shot for cannibalism.This Trent realised was the chief reason why professional fighters like him were asked to protect the white officers and an army doctor called Sidney Hinde who had arrived late.

It was on the 2nd evening that Tent finally bored,broke his silence and began to speak .The first one he found was a senior Bangala native who had been excused from the heavy work and who spoke German well.He was shooting some birds when Trent approached him,seeing that he was the only one who was not terribly busy."Ah,mine shot there,pity you cant collect it"said Trent.
"Thanks sir,had i been on land i would have collected it,the joy of breaking the legs of a bird or slitting its throat or pickling his eyes is so cheerfully good"replied the native.
"But why"asked Trent."In our Bangala tradition we always allow the birds or the animals to writh in pain by torturing them,trust me ,their flesh seems to be more tender and tasty that way,this evening i would show you a taste if you wish"said the native.
"Ah.........,excuse me i forgot,i had promised the doctor a talk"said Trent leaving.

On getting to the doctor Trent immediately told him about the short conversation."Ah,the Bangala,their cannibalsim and animal hunting is all the same,so many times have they described to me how they remove the ears ,then the eyes ,then cut off the hands of the prey before cooking it,queer people my good man, queer people,i would watch out for them if i were you"exclaimed the doctor.

It was only by the 5th of May that Trent was told that there were two other 'specialists' like him employed on the boat and that the 3 would have to work in 'special' ways away from the main body of troops.When Trent questioned "What troops,is there a battle to take place?".He was given the answer.A trading post on the Kasai river on which the steamer presently was ,had been burned and its occupants murdered by local natives.The troops were to punish them with the help of the Bangala and the 3 specialists.

The other 2 predictably enough were also non European.Roger Fenderson was from Canada and Danny Hill was from Chicago.Also like Trent both of them loved their jobs.However Hill was a devout catholic and was not bloodthirsty like the other too.He was expert at arson and was an amateur doctor who excelled working in these conditions.Fenderson was a a few years older than the other two and had been a regular soldier in the British army until the first Boer war(From where he learnt the trade of surprise attacks) when he had returned home to manage his father's declining estate.In 1887 he had after his father's death came here to the Congo,someone within the British army had informed the high command of Fenderson's skills in a 'different' type of warfare.

On the night of 7th May that the steamer and its convoy finally moored opposite to the charred remains of the trade post.While the regular troops were to work the next day at 7am,the captain of the mission told the 3 specialists,that along with select Bangala recruits they had to be 'let lose' at 4am!

[Alwyn]

William believes that this will be a boring job, but I'm guessing that he will use his training in scouting and sniping before too long!

[Owlparrot3]

Thanks so much for commenting man.Commenting on stories atleast to me is like giving water to a thirsty man.I wont really give you a direct answer for it will spoil the enjoyment.
I so look forward to people commenting.
Thanks you sooooooooooooo much.I would like to rep you too.

[NorseThing]

So William is a puppet on Kruger's strings so Kruger thinks. Trent is a 'specialist' about to be a part of avenging a massacre. The cannibalism gives me the creeps though. I think you are handling the topic fine, it just gives me the creeps.

[Owlparrot3]

Thanks for commenting.Since i may need your help at any moment i will tell you all the story arc.

[Owlparrot3]

Chapter5.

The swampy jungle was silent,the only sound was of the mosquietos.Except for the earliest rays,there was no light at 4.15 am.Fenderson,Hill and William were all ready.Fenderson had in his hand a colt peacemaker,though he also had a rifle slung across his shoulder.Hill carried his Henry rifle at the ready while William apart from his Lee-Metford sniper scoped rifle slung on his back,carried only a sharp curved knife,the kind found in eastern countries.Apart from them were of course the Bangalas.The plan was simple.6 Bangalas and the 3 specialists were to go scouting and be back to the steamer before 7am when the remaining troops and Bangalas would commence police operations.

William was the leader of the pack.But it was the Bangalas who astonished him.They seemed to know everything.Before long they had pointed a finger at a particular tree in the middle of dense foliage.Slumped on it was a sleeping native,his spear and bag hung on a branch.The Bangalas themselves could have done the job,but like all other white man respecting natives,they let Trent have a go.Like a silent mouse Trent stepped forward.The tree on which the native slept was bent.William had no problem climbing it.It earned him the respect of the Bangalas,no white man could be so silent according to them,except when conducting diplomacy that is!

4 minutes later they had dragged the native half unconscious due to chloroform that Trent had used to a clearer space."Who sent you" asked Trent."Whom do you work for" he asked again.
The native smiled.The next moment he writhed with pain as Trent slapped him slow and hard on the cheek.He smiled again.
"Enough,Fenderson,lets get rid of him,a black native anyway"said Trent.
"Gongo,Gongo,Gongo Leutete,my master is at camp,he work for Gongo,ahead,camp ahead"screamed the native.
"Good boy"said Trent before putting the chloroform laced handkerchief on his mouth again.The native would be tied up and escorted back to the steamer by one of the Bangala.

The camp that the man had spoken off was not a real camp but rather a floating one made of canoes.It had taken the group just 40 odd minutes to find it.The mission had technically ended when the camp was found,but William had other plans.
"We must also learn of the amount of men,supplies and weapons that they posses,its also possible that they might have taken prisoners"said William to Hill.But the Bangala assured him that these were not the type of people who took hostages.Just then a younger Bangala came near Trent and said "Sire,just a minute,here's a gift.........................".

In the end William sent the party home,but Hill and Fenderson decided to stay most probably because it was not respectful to abandon their leader."Ok,boys,here's the plan,you two surround the canoes and scout the beach for knowing their supplies while i do a different job of experimentation"said Trent.
"Which job,what are you experimenting"asked Fenderson.Silence.

The lone canoe seperated from the others contained only one native who though awake was slouched in a comfortable position.He had no chance as a deadly green liquid burnt his face.His nerve cells sent the signal to scream but they were blocked.Unable to scream,he could also not do anything as before his very eyes a strange white devil came up and poured the same liquid in the big wooden tub of wine.The natives were the Kawga.Recently converted to christianity,they were even more devout than the white men who converted them.They had a strange custom.The red liquid that the true god advocated along with bread was holy and had to be drunk by all first thing in the morning!

15 minutes later Trent and the other two were back on the steamer.It was 6.30 now."Signal the soldiers to attack immediately,the enemy is in a state of disarray"said Trent to the captain."But they are still preparing"replied the captain.
"We have less time,ask them to attack immediately"said William.

Back on board,Trent now started preparing his own weaponary.All around him was rush as soldiers quickly sild into their uniforms and polished their rifles.Hill and Fenderson were curious but Trent assured them that he would tell them the full story later on.Meanwhile they watched as a younger Bangala came near William and asked "How was the Acidim".
"Splendid,it really worked the way you said"said William handing out a few coins to the Bangala.What would he know then that many years later in a strange distant land,the same acidim would forge his destiny.

Finally Trent narrated the whole story to his two associates."I had read about the strange customs of the Kawga,they drink wine in the morning and they also wear red coloured cross amulets made of wood".
"But what about that"asked Hill.
"I immediately recognised that the native was a Kawga,but i had no special plan until i saw with my binoculars a lone canoe guarded by just man,near it was a tub,somehow my sixth sense told me that that tub would contain wine"continued William.
"But what did you do?"asked Hills.
"That young chap gave me Acidim,a strange substance which the Bangala make and do not share,it not only works like any other acid,burning the face but its fumes also paralyse the person,Stanley had mentioned the substance once in his writings,then this devious plan formed in my mind.That wine tub contains a jarful of Acidim"Trent laughed.
"Hah,those chaps,you have almost defeated them singlehandedly"praised Hill.
"Thanks"came the answer.
"Hah,lets go"said Fenderson.

“If we are special than these troops”said Hill on the way.”Then we ought to be the ones to claim the head of their ringleader”he continued.
“Righto”said Hill.”Well I don’t think that these Belgian soldiers are in the competition,but I fear that the Bangalas stand a chance to beat us”said William.”Then lets race men”shouted Fenderson.All around them excited Belgian troops were running quietly.While some Bangalas followed them,the others preferred to attack with their own canoes by water rather than cross a swamp.

The engagement started quickly.As soon as they first saw the Kawga,the Belgian soldiers begin to fire.From another direction the Bangala had begin to attack any enemies who attempted to escape by boat.Half of them however were unable to even move due to their 'wine'.Fenderson and Hill charged along with the soldiers but William thought differently,he took out his binoculars and begin to survey the area.Despite the smoke of guns,soon he found his target.Lying paralysed on the ground and surrounded by 4 men defending him lay the Kawga chief.William took out his Lee-Metford sniper and aimed hard for the head of the chief.Suddenly out of nowhere a Belgian soldier appeared and charged that bunch of men with his bayonet,for a moment William almost felt the taste of defeat in his mouth,but the three men defending the chief fell on him.William was now in a dilema.There were only a few moments more and he had to choose between saving the soldier or the glory of the chief's head.

The next moment a clean shot hit one of the Kawga on his leg.In one of his rare moments of honour William had chosen honour over glory.But not for long.For he quickly pushed the bolt forward and fired.The next moment the chief was dead.Now he turned his scope to the other side of the raging battlefield where the Bangalas were ferociously fighting the Kawga with mad bravery.Once in an engagement they fought till they killed the enemy or in rare moments until their own death.One such Bangala youth was shouting with all might as he fought alone against 5 Kawga to cover his friend who was busy drowning a Kawga canoe to prevent any escapees.William decided to use his intelligence.The best way to help the Bangala was to kill the man directly in front of him.There was no time to aim for the head so he instead shot in the stomach.
Bang,the Kawga went down.William then hit the man directly behind him.By this time the other 3 terrified begin to flee and left the man alone.
By this time the battle was almost over.Some last few Kawga warriors were making a last stand near a large tree on which were slung 2 kerosene lamps.William quickly aimed for one of those lamps.Bating his breathe,he fired.
Boom,the lamp exploded.Suddenly he took his eye out of the scope,the fire was bigger than what it should have been.It was as if there was petrol in those lamps.
The question was answered a second later,it wasnt a miracle.It was Hill the arsonist who knew exactly where to strike.The fire burnt the tree that the Kawga were using as a support completely.Seemingly out of nowhere more Bangala troops arrived from the back.Unable to flee either to the jungle or the swampy beach the remaining Kawga put their hands up.

The battle was won.

[Alwyn]

I like the way that you introduce the silent, swampy jungle at the start, setting the scene well. I wonder what the gift from the younger Bangala was. I also wonder if the examples of the customs of the Kawga are based on real-life traditions.

I noticed that you posted one chapter yesterday and one today. My only concern is that readers might struggle to keep up with your story. When I wrote one of my early AARs, The Lion and the Eagle, I posted updates quickly. The number of views rose more slowly for that AAR than for any other AAR I've written. As I see it, leaving more time (such as a week) between updates has two other advantages. Firstly, it gives you more time for editing. Secondly, it allows you to get ahead, if you can write chapters more quickly than you are posting them. When that happens, I find it easier to develop longer-term story-lines. For example, if I have an idea for a new story-line when editing chapter 10 and this requires me to change something in chapter 6, then this is not a problem if I have only posted the first five chapters.

[Owlparrot3]

I like the way that you introduce the silent, swampy jungle at the start, setting the scene well. I wonder what the gift from the younger Bangala was. I also wonder if the examples of the customs of the Kawga are based on real-life traditions.

I noticed that you posted one chapter yesterday and one today. My only concern is that readers might struggle to keep up with your story. When I wrote one of my early AARs, The Lion and the Eagle, I posted updates quickly. The number of views rose more slowly for that AAR than for any other AAR I've written. As I see it, leaving more time (such as a week) between updates has two other advantages. Firstly, it gives you more time for editing. Secondly, it allows you to get ahead, if you can write chapters more quickly than you are posting them. When that happens, I find it easier to develop longer-term story-lines. For example, if I have an idea for a new story-line when editing chapter 10 and this requires me to change something in chapter 6, then this is not a problem if I have only posted the first five chapters.

Thanks for commenting.I am posting fast because i have a lot of ideas and because my wordpad is acting weird so i cant trust it no more.Better to post right away.I am in Vegas so not at home and i am using my Laptop,not my computer.My associate engineers who after a hard day at army camp have resorted to gambling are mocking me "Hey,quit being a bore and join us,no story time"