Fearless Master of the Jungle (A Bunduki Jungle Adventure by J.T. Edson

occasion, it came sufficiently close to stir the
short and sweat-sodden black hair in passing. However, the speed
with which the brunette was still contriving to move prevented the
Protectress from being able to find an opening and driving through
it with her point to deliver a coup-de-grace.
    By now, both of the women were
beginning to show the severe strain caused by their exertions. Each
was panting, her breath whistling through a parched throat and
mouth. Replenishing their tormented lungs was growing increasingly
difficult. Perspiration flowed copiously, making their skin glisten
and diluting the blood that each was shedding. As their magnificent
bosoms expanded and contracted like bellows in operation, their
eyes glared glassily at each other and they were oblivious of all
else.
    ‘ Quagga God strike her!’ Elidor was croaking, using the
words as a spur to drive her exhaustion-wrapped body to further
efforts and went on, accompanying each word with a terrific stroke
of her sword, ‘Curse you! Blast you! Stand! Fight!’
    For her part, Charole was
making no attempt to reply or comply with the demand to change her
tactics. The night of broken sleep followed by days of almost
continual travelling were beginning to have their effect, just as
she, the brunette, and the male warriors had anticipated would
happen. What was more, due to the perspiration restricting the
blood ’s
power to congeal, she was losing a fair amount from her injuries.
In addition, her left arm felt as heavy and cumbersome as if it had
been turned to lead. Through the accumulation of her sufferings,
she was growing sick and faint.
    The sensation caused the Protectress
to slip and stagger slightly.
    Instantly, with an expression of
bitter hate and fury contorting her haggard features, Elidor
prepared to make the most of the opportunity with which she was
being presented. Gathering all her flagging reserves of strength,
she carried the sword high above her head.
    In her eagerness to strike, the
exhausted brunette went a trifle too far!
    Such was the vigor employed by
Elidor that, before she could halt the sword, it was pointing
downwards behind her. If the blow had been delivered, it could have
cleaved the Protectress’s skull open to the chin—but it was never
struck.
    In spite of all the torment she
was enduring, Charole was not too far gone to see and recognize the
chance she was being offered. Making a desperate effort to regain
her equilibrium, she put all she had into an almost classic lunge.
Her point went home beneath Elidor ’s left breast, passing onwards to emerge
at the rear.
    For a moment, the
brunette ’s
whole body went rigid. Then, releasing her weapon so it tumbled
behind her, she went over backwards and wrenched the sword that had
killed her from its user’s grasp.
    Disarmed and tottering, Charole
saw her lance standing as she had left it. Pure instinct rather
than conscious thought caused her to reel the few steps that
separated her from it. Although she managed to take hold of the shaft
with both hands, she knew that she did not have the strength or
energy to use it. So she was at the mercy of Elidor’s
companions.
    Keeping herself upright by
leaning on the lance, the Protectress swung her gaze to the warrior
who—by virtue of being the only male to ride a banar-gatah—was the leader of the
party. Even as her gaze reached him, there was a hissing sound and,
coming from somewhere beyond her now restricted range of vision,
came an arrow that impaled itself in his throat.

Chapter Seven – I Hope You Know What
You ’ re Doing
    ‘ So
you’re going to ride Shambulia instead of just weighting his saddle, are you?’
At-Vee the Hunter asked, watching Bunduki drawing tight the girths
of the quagga stallion’s saddle. He no longer fumbled with the
pronunciation of the Swahili word meaning “attack” which had been
selected as the animal’s name.
    ‘ I am,’ the blond giant agreed. ‘And Dawn is going to do the
same with