Merian C. Cooper's King Kong by Joe DeVito

had stopped his camera. He didn’t flinch from the island chief’s challenging gaze, but said from the corner of his mouth, “Skipper, this would be a good time for a friendly speech.”
    Englehorn took a step closer, but the king threw up an arresting hand. “Watu! Tame di? Tame di?”
    â€œIma te bala,” Englehorn replied slowly. “Bala! Bala! Friends, Friends!”
    â€œImbali nega bala, reri tamano alala temo!” the king shouted scornfully. “Tasko! Tasko!”
    â€œWhat’s that about?” Denham asked.
    Without looking at Denham, keeping an undisturbed expression on his face, Englehorn replied, “Hard to make out the accent, but I gather he wants no friends. He tells us to beat it!”
    â€œTalk him out of it,” Denham ordered. “Ask him what gives with the ceremony.”
    Ann peeked from behind Driscoll as Englehorn spoke in placid, conciliatory tones and gestured to the flower-clad girl.
    â€œTapi ani saba. Ani saba Kong!” pronounced the king, and from all the natives came a sighing, worshipful echo of “Saba Kong!”
    Englehorn nodded gravely and muttered, “He says the girl is the bride of Kong.”
    â€œKong!” Denham cried exultantly. “Didn’t I tell you?”
    Denham’s use of the word Kong drew an instant burning glare from the king. He gave no signal obvious to Ann, but both of his tall guards raised their spears. A murmur ran through the throng. Ann heard hushed voices, sounding dismayed and fearful, repeating “Saba Kong” over and over. The witch doctor quietly said something that Ann could not catch, but his voice rose as he finished, “atu kana ito Kong!”
    â€œHe’s warning that Kong will be angry,” translated Englehorn. Ann could almost have guessed that, for even in the fearless eyes of the chief something flickered, something wary and apprehensive.
    At that, the witch doctor suddenly leaped forward, his headdress shaking, his eyes darting fury at both the king and strangers. He cried, “Bar-Atu, te ama si vego! Dama si vego, Bar-Atu! Dama si vego. Punya. Punya bas!” His voice shook with anger—or with fear.
    Englehorn took a step back. “We are violating the teachings of Bar-Atu, whatever or whoever that is. We’ve spoiled the ceremony. None of our kind are supposed to see it. I think we’d better fall back, but carefully.”
    â€œLet me try talking to him,” Denham said. “What’s the word for ‘friend’?”
    â€œBala.”
    Denham immediately spread his hands and with a grinning, conciliatory step said, “Bala! Bala!” He pointed to himself and then to the king and witch doctor. “Bala! Bala!”
    Though he put a smile on his face, Driscoll warned, “Denham, you can’t trust these savages. Can’t you tell they’re drugged on something? The skipper’s right. Let’s get back on the ship.” Ann saw that he made smooth gestures, as though complimenting the natives.
    The king cast a cryptic glance in his direction, frowning, and beckoned his guards to stand close beside him. His face was unreadable, but he stared directly into Driscoll’s eyes and in a deep voice cried, “Tasko!”
    â€œHe understood you,” Ann whispered to Jack.
    â€œCouldn’t have,” Driscoll returned, not looking at her. “How would these birds know any English? Watch it. Men, be ready to defend yourselves.” He didn’t raise his voice, but behind her Ann heard the clacks of rifle bolts.
    She felt fear, but her excitement flooded over every other emotion. She took a step back, and at that moment the king’s glance seized on her and her honey-colored hair. He raised his arm in a decisive gesture, and the warriors behind him lowered their spears. The king stared first at Ann, and then turned to the witch doctor as though asking for affirmation.
    â€œM-Malem ma