When Kong became King

By Peter William Turner

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

PART ONE: LIFE AND DEATH

PART TWO: A NEW ORDER

PART THREE: RIGHTS OF PASSAGE

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

PART FOUR: THE SEARCH FOR KONG

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

PART FIVE: KONG BECOMES KING

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

Like all boys (and boys at heart), ever since I saw for the first time the film of the original 1933 classic “King Kong”, it has fascinated me and fuelled my imagination henceforth.

Dinosaurs themselves have often filled the imaginings of many, not only because of their sheer size, but because we still know so little about them, and so adding to their reputation an  enticing air of mystery; making them almost mythical creatures in the category of dragons (were it not for the indisputable fossil records of their existence).

Add to that heady mix a lost world of such prehistoric monsters with a giant gorilla to match, then it’s little wonder that eight decades on, the “King Kong” legacy has begot numerous remakes, subsequent stories, and all the paraphernalia that accompanies a blockbuster movie, to make the universally iconic Kong as popular today as when he first put his sizeable foot out onto the big screen.

However, to my knowledge there is yet to be a story which tells the origin of either our giant hero, or one that tackles the issue of how he came to be alone as the only primate of his kind, surrounded by the indigenous inhabitants of the island. Whilst pondering such an undertaking necessitates a degree of artistic licence, I have endeavoured to remain faithful to the original story regarding the description of the mythical Skull Island and its inhabitants; basing the dinosaurs on known scientific finds so as to add realism.

Of course, no ancient gorilla remains have been yielded that match the size of Kong, but some anthropologists theorize on the existence of Gigantopithecus, an ape which stood at 3 metres (9.8ft) based upon the discovery of some distinctly simian lower jaw remains. This is entirely in keeping with a variety of modern mammals that had giant forerunners in prehistoric times.

PART ONE: LIFE AND DEATH

Chapter One

The moon has stood as a silent witness over the events upon our planet for untold millenniums.

It has hung aloft whilst great oceans and vast continents have formed and changed, mountains have risen heavenward and islands have been born from erupting volcanoes; whereas others have disappeared forever beneath the depths of the unforgiving sea.

One island that it shines its face upon on this particular evening has been granted its illumination for longer than most. In warm southern seas shrouded in mist so dense as to render its presence undetectable and, thus far, unchartered, by human navigation, it stands alone, visited only by its frequent companions, the sun, the moon and the stars above; which have been welcomed for countless days and innumerable nights since the dawn of time.

As gentle southern breezes caress the isle, great swathes of lush tree canopies glisten as the moon highlights their moist foliage moving to and fro, like the silken skirts of ballerinas captured in the spot light as they dance upon the stage.

A lone cloud briefly passes the face of the moon, temporarily plunging the island into darkness. But then the light returns unceasingly across the land as it chases away the offending cloud to gradually illuminate what was hitherto the hulking silhouette of a mountain, rising literally head and shoulders above the rest of the island. For the zenith of this highest of mountains starkly resembles a skull-shaped dome, punctuated with three great caverns, two smaller ones halfway up the mount, like eye sockets.

Below them in the centre is a single, larger hole standing as a huge cavernous mouth to the skull. The full moon’s powerful rays penetrate inside the mouth of the cave as if it were about to undergo a dental examination. But instead of teeth, all that is revealed is a flattened carpet of large dead leaves spanning a quarter of the breadth of the cave. The centre of the leaves is clearly more sunken than those on the perimeter, giving the appearance of a recently slept in giant’s bed. Except there are no giants here, at least not on this particular night, and no life at all apart from the odd bat that occasionally strays into the luminous side of the cave.

Looking outward from this skull-rock as its eyeless sockets appear to do, an observer could enjoy an eagle’s-eye panorama of the island in daylight. But by night, even under the light of the full moon, one could only get tantalizing glimpses of silhouettes that merely give the barest of clues about the island and it’s mysterious inhabitants.

However, up toward the far side of the island there are illuminations not reflected from the sky, but emanating from near the ground. These are moving luminaries, resembling the glow of fireflies. Yet, to be seen from such a distance, are clearly made by larger things than mere insects; for these fire-lights are clustered together in such a way as could only originate from human activity.

From the same location, the regular, rhythmic beat of drums catch the airwaves and travel to Skull Mountain along with a faint collective chant that grows in intensity. Shhh! Listen carefully. Just below

the pounding of the drums, the sway of leaves caught in the wind,

the calls of a thousand creatures of the night stirring in the darkened jungle below. Listen intently, syphon out the natural noises of the

island and you will hear a call: “Kong!” “KONG!” “KONG!”

Chapter Two

“Downtown Manhattan”, or the lower side of the island; the natives really are getting restless.   For the nights of a full moon are when their god incarnates before them to partake of their sacrifices, so everyone wants a ringside seat. However, with a wall like a mountain range separating the village from the world of their deity, only those atop it as sentries are privileged to lay eyes on the object of their devotion, and it is they who whip their fellow devotees into new levels of hysteria, when they signal with raised spears that the king has arrived… long live the king!

This is the cue for the climax of the evening as everything clicks into place like a well-oiled machine; from the hand-cranked opening of the colossal two-leaved doors, to the procession of men carrying aloft upon their muscular shoulders large rafts full of the choicest fruit, exceeding their carriers in size, like a caravan of ants transporting their cargo to their nest.

Upon heaping their delivery on top of the immense altar outside the gates each man races back inside without delay. The last man is barely between the rapidly closing gates before they are slammed shut and sealed. With that final action, the cacophony from within the village abruptly ends as if obeying the command of an unseen orchestral conductor. The beat of the drums is no more, the increasing chants of “Kong” cease, and the frenzied dance of ape skin-clad men comes to a halt mid-motion.  Then there is silence.

The sentries upon the wall top stare in awe as one, as a gigantic gorilla strides silently, and somewhat cautiously, out from the jungle into the clearing before the huge altar on all fours, yet still head and shoulders above it. The reason for the giant’s uncustomary caution soon becomes clear when one of the more observant watchmen points to a barely discernible figure, clinging almost camouflaged onto the back of the huge beast.

Gasps of awe transform into excited murmurs that spread throughout the camp as news travels that, for once, Kong is not alone…he is accompanied by his offspring. For many; years, for many others; decades, of being cut off from seeing their great god was frustrating enough.  But this added deprivation from seeing the son of a god is unbearable, and they spill over from among the masses to rush the wall.

In the ensuing mayhem it becomes apparent that only so many people could populate the wall. And upon realising that he was not going to be one of them, an over eager - if not somewhat reckless, - father decides that his young son, Kalobi, might have a better chance than himself. And so raises him up to those ahead of him up on the ladder, each in turn handling him to the one above, until the boy is lifted shoulder high by a sentry at the very top. Perched upon the sentry’s shoulders, Kalobi caught his first sight of the mighty Kong feasting at the altar below.

Then, barely detectable, peeking from behind his father’s huge right thigh, he gets a glimpse of “Little Kong,” as the villagers had begun affectionately calling him. For a moment Kalobi catches the baby gorilla’s bewildered stare. But although the exchange was brief, it left more of a lasting impression upon the young child’s mind than even his first sight of the magnificent Kong himself had done. When the altar is eventually emptied of all that Kong desires, he beats his huge chest with thunderous pounding. Then releases a mighty roar of approval that reverberates along the length and breadth of the colossal wall. Turning nonchalantly, he lifts his child upon his back with one hand, before returning to the heart of the jungle from whence they came.

But despite the king’s backstage exit, as far as his subjects are concerned, the party has just begun. For once, the star attraction has been upstaged by his child prodigy in an unscheduled double bill; giving the audience twice the reason to celebrate longer into the night than usual.

The excitement of it all, as well as the late hour, finally takes its toll upon young Kalobi, as he is tucked into bed by his mother’s loving hands. But, even as she bends to kiss him goodnight, instead of her tender eyes, all he can see are those of Little Kong starring back at him, as they did when he looked down at him from the wall…until his, and Little Kong’s, come to a slow, very weary close.

Chapter Three

As the morning sun rises in the sky, it reflects brilliant shimmers of crimson across the surface of the great lake on the northern side of the island. Elongated necks with reptilian heads penetrate from beneath the misty waters, like periscopes from a fleet of hidden submarines, catching the first warming rays from the sun. From the edges of the surrounding jungle come, one by one, an assortment of biped Hadrosaurids; some with extravagant crests, some without. But all with their duck-bills, marching purposefully toward the inviting waters as their smaller, feathered namesakes are accustomed to do.

Holding up the rear, traipse the gigantic sauropods; their disproportionately small heads raised elegantly aloft over all other species like giraffes upon the open plain. Upon taking their place alongside the other creatures at the great lake, one could well be reminded of other such animals as antelopes, wildebeest and zebras in a scene more contemporary with a watering hole upon the Serengeti. But, as if to purge the setting of anything resembling normality, another participant in the morning gathering arrives, as royalty have the prerogative to do; fashionably late. Only, this particular sovereign arrives without fanfare, and barely noticed by the masses. Because the presence of this gorilla of equal size to most present –as surreal as it would appear to outsiders- is one that they have become accustomed to for countless generations. Indeed, Kong’s appearance at the lake is welcomed by the reptilian herbivores, which lap up the water together with him, because they are fully aware that their carnivorous cousins tend to keep a wide berth of Kong, in respect for his power. And so they drink and bask in complete serenity.

The only thing that disturbs their tranquility is the emergence of Little Kong, now all arms and legs, from under his father’s belly.

As if sensing the dinosaurs’ unease, the young gorilla creates further disturbance by splashing water at the juveniles of a herd of Triceratops gathered at the water’s edge, and then running away in shrieks of delight. But aware of the danger posed by their parents’ protective instincts and lance-like horns, Little Kong’s father ushers him away with an outstretched arm that turns from shepherd’s crook to a rod of discipline, with a mere flick of a wrist that stings the mischievous youngster’s rear.

Having been suitably chastised, the young ape falls into line with the other cast members, to resume the dignified calm of the gathering, blissfully unaware that they are being observed by the bloodthirsty eyes of a rogue Tyrannosaurus Rex; the most dominant of its kind on Skull Island, concealed by the dense jungle around it. But it merely stands like a sinister sentry biding its time to strike, which will only be when it’s nemesis, Kong, has left.

Until then, the giant carnivore must patiently ignore the hunger pains growling in its belly, rather than risk its life in a confrontation with a herd of triceratops; or even with Kong himself.

The time has not come for that…not on this day, at least.

Chapter Four

On a pleasant midsummer’s afternoon, the giant gorillas are, as usual, relaxing on the secure heights of Skull Mountain, where no predatory carnivore can reach them. However, as Kong becomes a little older, a little greyer, and far more languid during such siestas, his offspring becomes bolder, more curious, and livelier. Thus, proving a greater challenge for his father to keep him under his watchful eye. Particularly as he is now the sole surviving adult left to do so.

Little Kong barely knew his mother; the great matriarch of the clan breathed her last just weeks after giving birth to the last of the giant apes, who’s numbers had gradually been in decline due to the low birth rate among them in recent decades, as well as the death of Little Kong’s two older siblings. Both the victims of carnivore attacks when they were young. As he lay on his father’s barrel of a chest, soothed by the gentle rhythmic rise and fall caused by his breathing, Little Kong’s memory is transported back in time.

He imagines eagerly feeding from his mother’s bosom, but all too soon the vague feeling of familiarity flickers apart like a delicate old cobweb that is brushed aside by a passer-by. In its place smoulders the insatiable wander lust of youth, which inevitably sparks gangly limbs to climb down from their paternal resting place in the search for some new experience elsewhere.

Almost immediately, Little Kong’s attention is diverted by a passing flying insect and the fruitless pursuit thereof. From one giant fern leaf to that of another, the bedazzling bug leads young Kong on a merry dance; each time landing so tantalizingly close to within his grasp, yet, just out of reach. More significantly, the insect unwittingly leads the inexperienced youngster further down a slope, away from the summit of the mountain. From there, he wanders into the path of a creature that might appear out of place in this land of giant prehistoric beasts; an ordinary wild goat.

Many of its kind had been domesticated by the villagers behind the great wall. But this untamed individual, guided by instinct alone, points its horns down toward young Kong, whom it perceives to be a threat, as he stands as tall as a man before him. Having never before encountered such a challenge, Little Kong continues to stand, fascinated, and not a little bemused by the woolly four-legged creature’s antics, as it stamps one of its fore hooves repetitively upon the ground. Neither understanding, nor, thus, heeding the warning, the juvenile gorilla is knocked off balance by the unexpected charge as the goat’s curved horns crash into his midriff. But rises from the indignity of his fallen position instantly, amid yelps of anger, and fistfuls of dirt, which he scoops fitfully into the air around him.

The sight of the indignant ape causes the goat to swiftly retreat, as it realises it has more than met its match. But Little Kong, breathing fire and brimstone, takes off in hot pursuit.

Wisely, the goat heads toward rocky ground where its cloven-feet are more suited to than those of the ape, who, upon rushing onto some loose stones, begins to lose his footing and tumble down the cliff-face, causing a minor avalanche in the process of his uncontrolled descent. The fall seems to last forever as the young gorilla’s vision becomes blurred in a dizzy cascade of limbs, dust, and rock that seem to merge together like the contents of a tumble drying machine. Eventually, but not mercifully, the bumpy fall ends with the hardest one of all, on top of a pile of small rocks; which continues to pummel the youngster’s bruised body, even after he has come to a halt face down in the dust.

Momentarily, the pulverised simian raises his weary eyelids and, after his head stops spinning, and the ground has exchanged its rightful position back with the sky; he can just make out a familiar shape standing on four legs before him.

A shape from which emanates a mischievously mocking sound of; “Baa-aa!”  But the noise is cut off as the goat vanishes from sight, only to be replaced by the grisly sound of crunching bone and tearing flesh. The grounded young Kong lifts himself upon his knuckles, craning his aching head back to see, towering over him, a biped as large as his own father…the rogue T Rex, devouring the remnants of the goat’s legs in its cavernous mouth. The same legs that had so skillfully negotiated their way down a rock face that the ape came perilously close to ending the chase upon.

But now, he is threatened anew, and more terrifyingly so, as, having thoroughly devoured the goat snack, the Tyrannosaurus sniffs the air, as it picks up the scent of ape that its weak eyesight fails to recognise. Until now, that is, as it turns its gaze menacingly toward the juvenile gorilla, fresh blood oozing from its jaws, giving the monster an even more nightmarish appearance.

For a moment, the young ape is paralysed with fear, until the carnivorous giant lunges toward him, mouth agape; revealing an armoury of dagger-like fangs, to awaken young Kong from his trance- like state. Leaping into the nearest ferns, he realises that they will provide better protection than the cliff-face, where the T Rex could easily pick him off, before he had a chance to climb out of the monster’s reach. Opting for terra firma, though, is still a dangerous game to play. Especially against a foe with feet as wide and as heavy as a ship’s anchor.

So, swiftly, the ape, though inexperienced in both fight and flight, instinctively knows that he must continue to run in order to survive. But swiftness alone cannot suffice against a predator that can make one stride to its prey’s five. Speed of thought is also a necessity, as the young Kong dodges from fern to tree to rock in an effort to avoid the earth-pounding feet and vice-like jaws snapping at his back.

However, the adrenalin that empowers the young Kong’s blood to course through his body at maximum speed, gradually gives way to the pain inflicted by the fall earlier. He knows that he must find a suitable hiding place to protect him from the dinosaur’s clutches immediately. In his haste to escape, he almost misses such an opportunity; running practically straight into a fallen tree, the ape nearly overlooks a gaping hole in the bark, wide enough for him to be able to squeeze inside the hollow.

For a moment, the frenetic chase comes to an abrupt halt as the gorilla slips out of sight. Once again the reptile king is forced to rely on his default tracking system; his sense of smell. Inside the hollow of the tree there is little light and few gaps to see either inside, or what is happening outside. So the youngster is temporarily as handicapped as his pursuer as far as sight is involved. The loudening tremors caused by the giant lizard’s steps tell him the beast is close by.

The sound of the monster’s nostrils sniffing first the ground, then the tree itself, alerts the helpless ape within, of the fact that it is closing in on him. For a moment there is but for the background noises of the jungle- silence. It proves to be a lull before the storm as young Kong’s would-be shelter is pummelled and shaken by his pursuer. Its powerful neck muscles operate the monster’s bulky head to nudge and roll the fallen tree forward a yard at a time.

Inside, the terrified ape is buffeted around like a silver ball in a roulette wheel, unaware of the Rex’s intentions; for continuous movement on its present course would bring the tree to the edge of the giant ravine that runs across the northern neck of the island…and a thousand foot drop! Despite the punishment inflicted upon the T Rex’s skull, as it rams and lifts the tree along like a mechanical bulldozer, it’s efforts are unyielding, as it holds within its mind not a mere hunt for food, but a more sinister, further-reaching desire.

The annihilation of a species, represented by the sole heir to King Kong,-and thus total domination of Skull Island! The tree edges its way perilously close to the precipice, but with Little Kong inside, oblivious to his fate, it comes to a sudden stop. From somewhere close by, he hears the unmistakeable roar of his father, in all his power and glory. Peering through a crack in the bark, as if looking through a keyhole, he catches a glimpse of the indignant T Rex being pulled backward by its tail by two gargantuan hairy arms. With one swing of its massive tail, though, the Rex breaks Kong’s grip, hurling him to the ground in a cloud of dust.

Getting to his feet, Kong turns to face his nemesis for the first and last time; beforehand both giants have avoided outright confrontation, each sensing how both were evenly matched. But now their deadly coming together is unavoidable: For Kong, the preservation of his offspring-and species-are at stake.

For the reptilian giant stood an opportunity not to be missed; the ultimate destruction of an old and bitter rival. This time the two combatants waste no time in sizing one another up. For Kong, his protective paternal instincts have ignited a fiery rage inside him against the assailant, whom he charges at with arms flailing like a giant wind turbine. The ground shakes beneath the strides of the two gigantic beasts as they crash headlong into each other in what is, in every sense of the word, a true clash of the titans.

Kong grabs his arch-enemy’s head with one arm in an equivalent of a WWF full nelson, whilst the reptile fastens hold of Kong’s lower arm with a vice-like grip in its terrifying jaws. The two beasts are locked in this deadly hold for several agonising minutes, only their legs are free to move their bodies around in an absurdly mimicked waltz, as both struggle to break away.

Looking on as the battle rages, is Kong’s son, his wide eyes transfixed in terror from within the safe haven of the tree that, moments earlier, was within inches of becoming his coffin, but for the timely intervention of his father; whose own life was now in mortal danger because of it. As the giants wrestle for supremacy amidst horrific roars and bellows of anger, a foot gives way, causing both beasts to topple to the ground on top of each other in a flurry of limbs and tail.

The Rex is quicker to its feet than the ageing gorilla, and wastes no time in exploiting the opportunity presented by his fallen adversary, wading in with snapping jaws into Kong’s midriff. Kong’s mighty fists pound the reptile’s hard, scaly back in an attempt to stop the torment being inflicted upon him, but to no avail. Seeing that this tactic is failing; in an act of desperation Kong pulls the tyrannosaur’s head toward him and keeps it smothered there, one side flat against his chest to stop the merciless biting.

From Little Kong’s viewpoint, all he can see is the Rex’s back with its head buried into his father’s chest; as if he were being eaten alive. Suddenly, Kong summons the strength to plant two bulky legs into the reptile’s midriff, with huge effort, propelling the creature head over heels, so that Kong is now on top. Kong pounds the side of the Rex’s head with his uninjured arm. But just when he appears to be gaining the advantage, his arm slackens, as his injuries begin to cause him to weaken. In that moment, the fallen Rex seizes its chance by catapulting its head forward like a battering ram, to send Kong reeling backwards.

With Kong now down and breathing laboriously, the reptile employs the same tactic that it had used with the fallen tree containing Kong’s son. It began rolling Kong’s limp body along toward the canyon with its head. Kong tries once more to grapple the monstrous head to the ground. But this time his grip weakens, as he succumbs to heavy loss of blood pouring from his wounds.

The Tyrannosaurus pulls free with ease. While it does so, it allows its rival time to climb gingerly to his feet; with the ravine dangerously close behind him. This is exactly what the Rex wanted. With Kong in its reach, it twists the lower half of its body like a golfer lining up a backswing, before unleashing the full force of its colossal tail into the body of Kong, hurling him backward into the abyss of the ravine. Several seconds pass before a sickening crashing sound signals that the giant ape’s frame has landed among the fallen debris, deep down below.

The Rex bellows out a triumphal roar, before turning and fixing a sinister glare at the tree in which the remaining gorilla is hiding. Without hesitation, it strides toward it to send it the way of the belated Kong senior. Inside, Little Kong shrieks out frantically in sheer panic; aware that there is nowhere to escape, but equally aware that if he remains inside the log he’ll end up alongside his dead father.

Within seconds, the tree rocks under the full impact of the carnivore’s penultimate charge. Then, a deft nudge is all that is required to send the tree and its passenger rolling down the slope and over the edge of the precipice. The fall seems an eternity for Little Kong, trapped inside his wooden coffin, as it crashes against crevices and thick exposed roots jutting out along the cliff edge, causing it to snap in two before it finally comes to rest at the bottom. There is a moment’s silence -as if honouring the loss of the island’s last giant apes before the T Rex lets loose a final blood-curdling cry of exultation, as if pronouncing; “The king is dead. Long live the king!”

The Rex turns away in triumph from the battle scene, believing this to be the final one of its kind fought between generations of Skull Island’s two most dominant species, confident that its title “Rex”, or  king, now applies not just to its hierarchy over the reptile kind, but as sovereign over the entire inhabitants of the island.

PART TWO: A NEW ORDER

Chapter Five

Over 120 first full moons had rose and fell over Skull Island since its customary beckoning of the mighty Kong to the altar and its worshippers, who for generations had accepted and expected the two events to be an irrevocable way of life.

Thus in the absence of such entrenched formality and familiarity to a tribal community, there follows the inevitable disunity brought to birth by the disruption of ancient customs. First there came the guilt, then the blame, then the recriminations.

“Were our sacrifices inadequate, perhaps tainted in some way?”

“Our crops have not yielded satisfactorily since Kong’s absence. Perhaps this is a sign of his displeasure with us?”

Next among just a few at first, then like an insidious plague, many were voicing their doubts: “Was Kong really a god at all? Or did he and his kind go the way of all flesh and become extinct on this island?”

Despite the protest against such heresy by the gorilla-skin clad shamans, the keepers of the faith, to try and halt the tide of apostasy sweeping through the village, many of the flock began to stray in their faith. Then came the new enlightenment, based upon the void left in many for the need to worship something: If the great gorilla gods no longer walked this isle with heads held high then there must be a new deity ruling. What other of Skull Island’s inhabitants could rightfully wear the crown from among the fearsome beasts that the immense wall was built to keep them separate from? Which one of them stood head and shoulders above the others in stature as well as the predatorial food chain? Surely none other than the tyrannosaur. Thus it was with such reasoning’s running amok among the island folk  that fully half the populace began to establish a new deity; That of the great tooth reptile known to the outside world as Tyrannosaurus Rex,-the tyrant lizard!

But as with all things new change is never accepted by some without resistance, and as with all resistance there has to be a counterforce exerting pressure in the opposite direction. And when two such forces collide there is inevitable violence, destruction and bloodshed. Such was the outcome when the human inhabitants of Skull Island divided into two clans with conflicting beliefs of worship: The way of the old against the way of the new. The worshipper of the simian god verses the reptilian devotees.

But in essence it boiled down to the same thing: a conflict between brother against brother. With the ensuing heartache caused by separation of loved ones. Whether by beliefs or by death itself.

Kalobi, now a teenager, was one such victim of the latter. His father, a tribal elder and loyal devotee of Kong, took a spear through his ribcage in the defence of his convictions as Kalobi watched his father slowly die, just as Kong’s death was witnessed by his own son, whose first contact with Kalobi’s infant eyes still flickered in the recesses of his mind. Even now, after all these years, those wide simian eyes still bore into his very soul as if he were calling him from somewhere beyond the great wall. And so he never stopped believing that somewhere out there in the deepest jungle Little Kong was alive, and perhaps like Kalobi alone without his father, but yet alive...

Chapter Six

Between Skull Mountain and the great ravine that borders the north of the land and the great wall that protects the natives in the southern region, there lies a fertile jungle, vast and dense, filled with a menagerie of living creatures considered either extinct or unknown by the world outside; protected and hidden by the lush and gigantic canopy of equally prehistoric plant-life, enwrapping its babies like a vast interlaced womb of branches, vines and creepers.

Within one of the few clearings in this empire of plants stands a gigantically wide tree, with a trunk the circumference of a herd of elephants and with equally wrinkled skin, supporting branches and foliage that, in themselves, resemble sizeable woodland. In the midst of its colossal branches high up something stirs. A huge, dark, hairy hand nonchalantly reaches out to pluck one of the tree’s fruitage; something resembling the size and shape of a yellow basketball.

The miniature forest that is the tree then echoes with the cracking and crunching sound of powerful teeth and jaws, tearing the fruit apart to enjoy the succulent juices encased within its hard shell. When the fruit is eventually devoured the great ape lies backward onto a supporting horizontal branch, temporarily full and satisfied as his mind meanders back to when he first became acquainted with this tree and its fruitage, -not initially as a home and a source of nourishment- but more immediately as a place of refuge, and the fruit…as a weapon!

Still in the throes of adolescence the giant ape was customarily exploring this strange new world that he’d become exiled to by his father’s - and his- would-be killer. But still unfamiliar with the ways and the inhabitants of the jungle he was unaware of the two pairs of feline eyes that were stalking him, watching his every move until they were in the prime position to strike.

So it was completely without warning when a large sabre-tooth tiger sprang at him from the undergrowth before him. The only weapon the ape possessed against such a predator with razor-like fangs and claws was his agility. He propelled his body toward an overhanging branch of the nearest tree and scrambled his way along it. But his pursuer (no cumbersome T Rex this time) matched his agility by doing the same. The chase continued from branch to branch and from tree to tree until all of a sudden Kong could hear no sound from the great cat behind him. But just to confirm that he had outrun and out climbed the predator, he came to a halt upon a nearby branch craned his neck to look behind and listened…

Silence, almost eerily silent, as if all the perpetual cacophony of the jungle were a mere simulation, broadcast from some loud speaker that a human hand had now abruptly switched off.

Nevertheless, observing no immediate danger Kong turned his head around to face forward. He was met with a sight that confused and startled him to the extent that he needed to grip the branch he stood upon so as not to topple off: the sabre-tooth stood before him! His simian brain could not comprehend how it could have moved ahead of him unseen and at such speed. A deep guttural roar from behind Kong provided the answer. He swerved at the sound to see another -his original pursuer- jump onto an adjoining branch at the same level. There were two sabre-tooth tigers, and they were hunting in a pair. And now they had him exactly where they wanted him: trapped between them.

Impulsively, with instinct his only recourse in the absence of experience, Kong leapt off the branch desperately groping at empty air until his fingers grasped an overhanging vine, and clung on as his momentum swung him forward.

As he came to the end of the rope’s forward trajectory he had nothing to leap on to except the ground ten feet below which, given the alternative waiting behind him if he continued on the swings backward momentum, he painfully accepted as he fell to the earth with an undignified crash. However, a brief appraisal of his open surroundings was all Kong needed to realise that if he remained there he would be an easy target for his pursuers, who were but moments away from the clearing.

The only thing that stood between Kong and the relatively safety of the jungle on the other side was a colossal tree. So tall that its top appeared to disappear in the dense cloud layer above. The sight of the pair of hunting tigers emerging from the jungle behind him made Kong’s mind up immediately; he had to race for the huge tree… or die trying!

Running across the clearing as fast as his youthful limbs could carry him, Kong could hear above his own laboured breathing the heavy panting of his two pursuers closing in.

It seemed an age before he was in reach of the giant tree. But as soon as he was, he hurled himself upon it with all his remaining strength. But seconds afterwards, the tigers were clambering up its side also.

Looking down for the briefest of moments to evaluate their position, Kong scrambled higher, and across the mazy network of limbs sprouting from the tree's sides.

As Kong moved higher into the branches, his vision was momentarily distracted by a swathe of bright yellow objects. He unintentionally put his hand upon one, and it tore free from the others in his grasp. As it fell from the branch, Kong could hear a pained catcall from below. He looked down to see one of the sabre-tooted cats indignantly trying to wipe and shake off the fallen fruit and its juices from his head; which had been transformed into a brighter shade of yellow.

Kong was quick to register the advantage that this new found arsenal- and his position in the tree- had given him, and immediately grabbed some more of the fruit and started hurling it down at both of the prehistoric cats on the branches below.

The tigers soon beat a hasty retreat down the tree, amidst a heavy pummelling from the hardened shells and sticky contents of the fruit, exploding on impact all around them.

When they reached the bottom, soaked and bruised, the hunters had lost their appetite for the hunt and skulk off into the dense jungle, tails between their legs; looking for some easier prey to intimidate.

High in the fortress-like tree above them, young Kong, for the first time, experienced the exuberance of victory; which instinctively spilt over into a display of chest pummelling, and shrieks of pleasure, as he jumped up and down on the sturdy branches of his castle.

But now, as his mind drifts from those memories of an earlier time, Kong is languishing blissfully into slumber; cradled by a lacework of thick entwined branches; which support his growing bulk like a hammock high above the ground.

But his siesta becomes fitful after his noon feast, as troublesome images disturb his rest.

Deep in the recesses of his simian brain, vague images of his father's killer flicker forth like a grainy black and white movie on the screen of an old cinema.

Such episodes had reoccurred with increased regularity in recent weeks; after years of barely entering his thoughts at all since he were younger and traumatised by the haunting scenes of his father's death.

But now, the mental image of the T Rex no longer strikes terror into the ape’s soul, but a more proactive emotion; the desire not to flee from, but to strive toward. But toward what?

His mind jumps from the loathsome Tyrannosaurus to a more tranquil scene, Skull Mountain; and the entrance to the cave that was, for so long, a haven in his formative years. And without words, it calls to him.

Unable to decipher between the images in his mind and the mixed emotions they stir within his being, Kong finally shakes them off and regains a state of restfulness.

But for Kong's restful breathing and the hidden activity of tiny winged birds and insects within its dense foliage, the great tree stands silent in the spotlight of the sun's rays, as they pour forth through a rare opening in the perpetual cloud bank.

The scene is serenity itself.

PART THREE: RIGHTS OF PASSAGE

Chapter Seven

Drums pound, dancers swirl, spectators cheer as teenage Kalobi strides toward the massive open gates, his heartbeat almost in pace with the quickening beats of the drums.

His time has come, the time for him to prove his manhood by going out to the untamed world beyond the mighty walls, and bringing back the severed heads of a worthy opponent.

Kalobi's widowed mother stands at a distance behind him and the cheering mass of well-wishers. It would not do for her to be seen by him now and weaken his resolve in his quest, which it would surely do if he caught sight of the tear running down her cheeks, betraying her fears that he may never return alive.

Kalobi too knows he dare not look back, but must shed all thoughts of his familiar surroundings and comforts; including that provided by this mother, and focus wholly on the deed ahead of him, until it is done.

As he stands, statuesque, facing the overwhelming dark jungle before him, he hears the creaks and groans of the giant gates strain, then close behind him.

For a brief moment he pictures the faces of the still-cheering villages atop and behind the great wall; his mother's bowed head among them, then swiftly shakes the image away before marching purposefully toward the jungle, which swallows him up out of sight in an instant.

Within the dimly lit world under the canopy of the forest Kalobi suddenly feels terribly alone and afraid; exposed to the eyes of a thousand unseen demons inhabiting the jungle.

True, he had trod the path into this underworld before on a hunting expedition, but that was on an occasion where he was accompanied by his kinsmen and their manly comradeship; which did not allow for anyone to betray fearful feelings to one another.

But now, alone in his mind, like an alien intruder, each step was measured with caution, unbounded by the false bravado afforded only in the company of tribesmen.

A rustle in the undergrowth to his left broke the spell of Kalobi's disquieting thoughts, and he suddenly became aware of the spear clenched tightly in his right hand.

Cautiously, he prodded the spear into the bushes where he heard the sound, and in the blink of an eye, out rushed a young wild boar squealing in protest at the sharp jab of the spear head.

Kalobi shook his head and laughed in relief that he had not uncovered a real threat so soon into his quest; but then entertained the thought that where there are young there are normally parents nearby, and an adult boar would surely be a worthy trophy, and with that he quickened his pace to follow the youngster.

The pursuit proved longer and more arduous than anticipated; evidently the young boar had strayed further from its family than Kalobi had figured. Indeed, he began to speculate that the young one may have been lost, and then began to feel discouraged and frustrated, as he contemplated giving up the search. But just as he was about to turn away, Kalobi heard the sound of several squeals and grunts, and realised the small boar was now reunited with its family.

Raising his head to eye level only, above the long grass, the young native studied the adult male wild boar. Although it was surely one of the island's smaller and less deadly inhabitants, the creature's long curled tusks make it, nonetheless, a formidable and dangerous foe for an inexperienced hunter like Kalobi.

But before the young man could seriously entertain the notion of trying to find some easier adversary to tackle - the boar made his decision for him, as it suddenly turned and charged toward him without warning.

Kalobi had to get to his feet fast. But before he could side-step the onrushing antagonist completely, he felt a sharp searing pain inflicted by one of its tusks against his right leg.

It suddenly occurred to him that, if he should choose another opponent next time, he would not make the mistake of picking on an angry protective parent, and that he ought to make sure he was facing downwind, rather than up - if there were a next time!

But as the boar spun round to charge again, Kalobi down on one knee, knew he now had to focus all his energy and attention on the optimum moment, to rise and hurl the spear into his intended target.

The boar covered ground at an incredible speed, given its short legs, and almost before Kalobi had time to act, it was upon him just as he stood erect; ignoring the pain the wound from the first charge had caused.

Given the close proximity of the beast, Kalobi could only plunge, rather than throw, the spear between his foe’s eyes. And hung on to it, trying to force it deeper, as the creature struggled for life. Then it struggled no more, and it crashed head first at Kalobi's bended knees.

It was a full minute before an exhausted Kalobi let go of the spear and clambered gingerly to his feet.

There was one more task he had to summon his flagging strength to perform; with sweat running down his forehead from pain and exhaustion, Kalobi drew the long blade from his side, lifting it above his head, and aimed down toward the neck of his vanquished foe.

But before he could make his execution, he was distracted by the clamour of pounding hooves behind him, and turned to see the adult contingent of the boar herd charging, like a vengeful cavalry, toward him.

The surprise of seeing such dim-witted beasts, united together for communal protection of the litter among the heard, froze Kalobi for the briefest of moments, before he took to flight; albeit handicapped by a wounded leg.

Survival instincts overrode pain, as he jumped and scrambled over bracken and fallen trees. With the sound of the pounding hooves becoming louder in his ears, Kalobi knew a dozen deadly tusks would soon be upon him; ripping into his flesh and tearing him asunder.

That thought alone raised his adrenalin levels to added heights, as he broke through the pain barrier; just as a sprinter’s last Herculean effort propels him over the finish line.

But Kalobi's goal became far less distinct with each agonising stride. There was no place to hide, or reach, in time, with the swine herd grunting at his heels. And his options seemed to become lessened when he found himself entering into a clearing; which offered no protection at all from his pursuers. Except an incredibly wide tree, which, as it become closer to his vision, was so gnarled that he thought he may just be able to climb high enough on to it to be out of immediate danger.

Ten strides, he reckoned on, before he would be in reach of his sanctuary.

Nine..., eight…, he could feel the breath of an angry boar upon the hairs on the back of his calves.

Seven…, six…, he felt the point of its tusk prick his ankle. Not enough to terribly wound him, but enough to cause him to stumble forward, instinctively reaching for the tree before him. But he fell forward under the useless legs of a drunkard, several yards short. Flat on his face in a cloud of dust, all resistance gone; as he lay prostrate under the shade of the colossal tree. Waiting, half terrified, yet half relieved, for his grizzly death to come.

The first thing Kalobi felt was, what he imagined to be, the boars’ muzzles digging under his chest, his belly, his legs. But was surprised how gentle they felt against his skin, and without any hint of use of their deadly tusks.

Next he felt himself being lifted - higher and higher; certainly above the height of any creature of the short stature that a boar possesses, until his eyes confirmed that fact, as he could look down upon his would-be assailants, running around in bewildered circles further and further below him, before they disappeared from view, obscured by the foliage above, that Kalobi was now entering.

Gently, Kalobi came to rest upon a large tree limb, as what appeared to be giant fingers uncurled from beneath him to let him free. Gingerly, he turned round face up, in an attempt to view his rescuer. But the thickness of the foliage surrounding him makes such an undertaking almost impossible.

All he could glimpse was a striking blackness, deeper than mere shadows between the trees dense network of branches and leaves. Then suddenly he caught sight of something white which moved. It was an eye, almost human in appearance, but the size of a dinner plate. And then, in a surge of nostalgia from the deep recesses of his memory, he was taken back to childhood, sat upon the shoulders of a watchman, atop the battlements of a great wall, transfixed by the wide eyes of a baby giant gorilla that stared back at him under the shadow of the gigantic frame of its father.

The revelation could not be contained by his lips, which, in the hushed, reverential tone, adopted by those praying at an altar of worship, murmured repetitively "Little Kong is alive! Little Kong is alive!"

Without warning, the eye, and the huge body it was a part of, suddenly disappeared from view. With a quaking of the branch Kalobi was now clinging onto. As if the great ape heard and was offended by the prefix 'little' that Kalobi attached to Kong's name. Somewhat foolishly, he now lamented.

For a considerable period of time, the young native lay upon the wide branch that had become, not only a place of refuge from the boar herd (which in time began to return into the jungle), but it also served as a makeshift bed of recuperation for his wounds and battle fatigue.

During his convalescence Kalobi rested in body only. As his mind was a whirl of images served up from the frenetic events of his sortie into the jungle and his subsequent rescue from one of the chief gods of the island - one that the majority of his people had begun to believe had left them.

Kalobi's encounter, though, would change everything, he thought. Providing the people believed he was not just conjuring up a fanciful story, just to keep his honour and beliefs alive of what, many now considered to be, a fallen deity. Or merely to cover his failure to bring back the trophy of his hunt - "the boars head!" he suddenly recalled audibly.

If he could find the creature that he slayed, and returned to the village with its head, then the people would more likely respect him and what he had to tell them about Kong, he mused.

But then, what if they did believe that the gorilla deity is still present on the island? Surely such a revelation would not only cause confusion among the people, but also stir up further rivalry and bloodshed; which in recent months had begun to subside.

Yet, whatever the outcome Kalobi's message should provoke among the villagers, he knew he could not be held responsible for. However, if he did not deliver the message, he would be accountable beyond redemption, he knew equally well.

And so, with his mind set on a loftier mission now than merely returning with his head trophy, Kalobi scrambled down the many foot holes that the deeply gnarled tree provided, and set off back into the dimmed light of the dense jungle, with a sense of greater foreboding on his return than when he began.

Chapter Eight

A gathering of the tribal elders of Skull Island was held for many different reasons, and if minutes were recorded, as they are by their modern day counterparts; sat in air conditioned offices, one would have to search such records for a very long time to find a precedent. For indeed, the purpose of this particular meeting was surely unprecedented: viz. "Is 'god' aka 'Kong' dead?

Similar debates have abounded among theologians in the great world that exists beyond Skull Island on numerous occasions, and on a far greater scale. But such are kept purely in the confines of conjecture, supposition or scientific reasoning. No one, for example, is expected to set off on a literal expedition somewhere, and take a series of snap shots of God obligingly posing for them.

However, the principle deity of Skull Island was not just an abstract, nor entirely, spiritual being, in the eyes of his devotees, but a physical incarnation. And, as such, one that can be tracked down and beheld with eyes of flesh, not just of those of faith.

And so it was upon such a course that the tribal elders spent many hours discussing and debating, because of a young warrior’s disclosure that he had seen 'god'.

Of course, such a claim was met, initially, by a mixed response of disbelief, wonderment, and outright hostility - the latter emanating from those who favoured worship of the reptilian god, over an 'antiquated' belief in Kong; just as the Western world’s “sophisticated” society is rapidly turning its back on its spiritual roots, in preference to the monstrous, all consuming jaws of the god of materialism.

After much wrangling throughout the night, even the dissident voices among the elders had to reluctantly surrender to the majority; who believed the best course of action would be to send a search party beyond the great wall to ascertain whether Kong was truly alive or not, and if he were, why he no longer graced the people with his presence by accepting their monthly sacrifices.

That course of action being finally agreed, however, only opened another can of worms: who would go on the expedition? The best trackers, certainly. The bravest warriors – without doubt. Kalobi himself, logically, as it was he who claimed the last know sighting of Kong and his whereabouts. But many viewed his claim, and he himself, with grave suspicion. And so the men chosen to accompany him on the search must balance that out by being a mixed cohesion of believers and non-believers, or entirely neutral in their allegiances.

Hence, more kindling was called for to reignite two fires: the one that the elders gathered around for warmth and light. The other; to re-spark another heated debate among them as to who should go and who should not; in this most important and sacred quest, in which everyone present felt they had a vested interest.

In view of the accusations and insinuations of 'nepotism' and 'pride' attached, like poisonous arrow heads, at the end of pointed fingers aimed across the fire at each other, it was a wonder to all present that they finally came to a unanimous decision before the first light of day.

In retrospect, many of those present would admit, if pressed, the choice of those who made the final cut from a long list of warriors, was made out of fatigue and the urge for much needed sleep; rather than out of a truly unanimous decision.

The numbers of those bestowed with the responsibility to seek, and find Kong, were six in total.

The first, by necessity, was of course, Kalobi himself; the youngest and least experienced of the group, who would lead them to the location of Kong's last known whereabouts.

Once there, Yasomi, a lean, sharp- featured tracker, and outspoken devotee of the Rex clan, would take up the trail, because of his unquestionable skill in that practice.

By complete and utter contrast, stood Baroli, a towering bear of a man. In deed, and somewhat in appearance, a true follower of Kong. And by his fearsome reputation as a warrior and hunter alone, earned him the right to be among the chosen few; it was said that he slayed one of the mighty bi-pedal carnivorous lizards single-handed, a feat which, in itself, gave him little regard for the reptilian giants of the island, and even less for those who, like Yasomi, treated them as overlords of the land.

The two men were not an ideal partnership in terms of mutual respect, or fondness, but both were indispensable for the hunt; given their respective talents.

The rest of the group comprised of another 'keeper of the flame' for Kong, Marzubra; slightly greying, elder statesman of the group. Invaluable for his wealth of experience in all ways of the islanders and respected wisdom. And, to even sides out; two warriors of the new order, Shilamnu and Krektar, proven hunters and noble warriors alike.

So it was that, for an unexpected second time in three days, Kalobi found himself facing the awe-inspiring double-doors of the 'gate to the next world,' so to speak. However, this time he did not stand alone, but shared the platform with the elite of the people. And being included and surrounded by such imminent persons, given the local equivalent of hero-worship status, made the giant gate shrink somewhat in his estimation this time, as the gathering throngs swept them forward and through it.

Detached from the excitement-both in distance and emotion- stood two men of the village, as they watched the chosen band of warriors disappear amongst the crowd, then through the gateway.

"What will they find I wonder?" the tribal elder asked.

"It does not matter,” answered his Shaman companion, clad in a reptile-skin hooded ephod, "so long as they do not return to share it" he added in an ominous tone, which prompted a knowing smile and a barely perceptible nod of approval from the elder.

Chapter Nine:

When it rains on Skull Island, as it frequently does, it pours. Enough, on this particular occasion, to dampen the young Kong's nagging pursuit of his yet unrealised destiny. And so he began, instead, a search to satisfy a more immediate need; that of shelter from the monotonous downpour.

Eventually, he stumbled across the entrance to a cave; almost hidden by clinging ivy. Plodding inside the tunnel on all fours; his dark coat shimmering wet and dripping copious amounts of rain water with each dejected step, Kong looked the picture of sullenness.

A sudden and unexpected animal roar reverberated around the cave walls out of the darkness ahead, snapping Kong out of his self-pitying state of mind into alert mode.

Almost before he could see a pair of angry eyes and glistening teeth exposed toward him, Kong managed to back away just in time to avoid the right hook and claws of a large, furry arm propelled in his direction.

As Kong's eyes began adjusting to the darkness of the cave, he could make out the threatening shape of a monstrous bear. Almost twice the size of a modern Grizzly, which, when it rose on its hind legs, loomed above Kong on all fours.

But that was not all Kong's vision caught sight of. In the bottom corner of his eye he could make out the much smaller furry beasts scurrying between their mother's pillar-like hind legs.

Kong instinctively knew that this beast did not necessarily seek to threaten Kong's life; but would do so only as long as he posed any imminent threat to her offspring.

Despite her menacing display of barred teeth and sabre-sized class that danced within a metre of Kong's face, he felt a strange mixture of danger, and yet, a type of kinship, with this adversary. Unlike he'd ever experienced during his many numerous confrontations with the reptilian kind; who, with their hairless bodies, were alien to him.

Were they not, after all, both mammalian, almost equal in stature, and, when both stood erect, not altogether dissimilar in appearance? And was not the creature looming large and menacing before him not putting her life on the line for her young, just as Kong's father had once done - to his cost - for him?

No, he could not bring it in himself to wish ill-will upon this foe; acting merely out of her protective maternal instincts alone.

Yet, Kong faced a dilemma, as he was backing into somewhere he did not relish to be. As he felt the sharp edge of the cave wall pressing against his back, he was cornered - and the only way out was through the hairy giant that blocked his path!

For any other creature the options of fight or flight were now reduced to one. But for an intelligent, powerful and agile beast as Kong, saw another door of opportunity to open his way out of this dire situation.

Noticing that the she bear could not bi-pedal forward for more than a few steps before she had to revert to all fours, Kong awaited the very next moment she had to do so again, and seized the opportunity, as well as the initiative of surprise, by slinging his whole body forward; placing the palms of his hands upon her broad shoulders, and, using his powerful biceps, leap- frogging over her back and behind her.

Before the startled bear had realised what had happened and cold turn to face Kong, he was back out of the cave and into the lashing rain; it was wiser to face a monsoon even then an irate mother bear, with which he had no quarrel with.

The coolness of the rain upon his brow proved, in fact, a welcome contrast to the muggy oppressiveness within the cave, and the tense encounter with the bear.

Kong was now fuelled with renewed zeal to fulfill his quest; although still ignorant of what and where it was. But driven by the same instinct that causes shoals of salmon to traverse oceans, and propel themselves upwards relentlessly against the raging currents of waterfalls to swim back to the place they were spawn.

PART FOUR: THE SEARCH FOR KONG

Chapter Ten:

"Are you sure that you know the way, boy?" Yasomi called out sarcastically to Kalobi, who led the group of hunters.

"Give the boy time, Yasomi," reprimanded Marzubra, as he turned his head to face him.

"Remember that he is inexperienced; not a great hunter such as yourself.

"Besides," he added “it is hard to find your way in these wet conditions".

"Do not make excuses for the boy, Marzubra. You know he made up the whole story, -but you will not admit it because you want to believe it is true."

Marzubra suddenly stopped in front of Yasomi, forcing him to stop also, and looked him squarely in the eye, “The big tree where he said Kong lifted him up to,- my father took me to that when I was just a boy. How could Kalobi describe it in such detail if he had not seen it for himself?"

"Huh!" Yasomi snorted, "You probably told him about it yourself when you were weaving one of your fanciful stories around the fire one night.-Besides, if you have been to this big tree, - why do you not lead the way instead of letting a boy do so?

"He is no longer a boy, remember Yasomi; he has proven his manhood by completing the test so he has earned his right to lead the way."

"I will tell you where he will lead us," replied Yasomi, angrily. "Around and around in big circles" he gestured with a twirling motion of his index finger, as his face changed from anger to a mocking grin. "I hope you like to dance in the rain, Marzubra!" he chuckled as he brushed his shoulder against the older man, ahead of him in the line.

After another hour or so of trudging through the wet undergrowth, Kalobi stands still, bringing the entire line to a halt.

"Have you come to your senses boy, and decided to end this ghost hunt?"

Kalobi ignored Yasomi's taunts and bent down on his injured left leg; touching the moist ground with the fingers of his right hand.

"What is it?" spoke the deep voice of Baroli, towering behind the crouched figure of Kalobi.

"Footprints," he answered in his much softer voice.

"A family of tusk pigs. This is near where I killed one. Its body must be near here somewhere.”

"Its body," interrupted the mocking tones of Yasomi, "is now spread all over the jungle; inside the bellies of a hundred predators and scavengers and insects."

"Never mind," replied Kalobi, "the big tree is near this site" he scanned the jungle around him, still crouched, then arose confidently and pointed "that way".

The heads of the rest of the group turned in the direction of his finger simultaneously. They watched Kalobi stride off in the same direction. Marzubra was the first to follow. And as he passed Yasomi, could not resist the urge to whisper in his ear, "No longer want to dance?"

Chapter Eleven

With its disproportionate characteristics and aged appearance, the gargantuan tree would hardly win any prices for natural beauty. But to Kalobi, at this particular moment, it was the most beautiful thing he could have set eyes upon.

If it were not for the adult company that stood behind, the sight of the giant tree would have sparked off a mad dance of triumph by Kalobi. Who instead, just stood, lips quivering in their efforts to restrain a wild call of delight, and basked in an inner glow of joyful vindication and pride.

But he was not allowed the luxury of bathing in his moment of glory for long, before Marzubra playfully nudged him and said "Well, what are we standing around here getting soaked for? - There's shelter under these branches".

Kalobi, Marzubra and Baroli hastened to get under the vast foliage out of the rainfall. But Yasomi held back. And motioned behind his back for Krektar and Shilamnu to do the same. He did not like the way things were starting to shape up.

"Kalobi, you climb up here," ordered Marzubra,

"Baroli, you climb up further round the other side, whilst I go this way," he motioned to his left.

While Kalobi began his ascent, Marzubra glanced back to where the other three men stood, and waved them forward, calling "What is keeping you? Hurry!"

Reluctantly, the trio walked cautiously toward the tree; looking apprehensively up at the thick foliage and branches above their heads, as if trying to spot some hidden danger lurking within.

Each man climbed a different section of the tree; within moments out of sight of each other, searching for clues as to the presence of Kong.

It was Baroli who first came upon the oversized fruit that the tree bore higher up in its branches as he, being taller than the rest, got to it quicker than the others.

Reaching up, he plucked one down. And with both of his massive hands, began to turn and examine its hard craggy exterior.

Inching his way carefully along the branch to the centre of the tree on all fours, ever mindful of the precarious height he was now at; he scanned for evidence that the fruit may have left traces behind to indicate that something had been eating from it. And sure enough, he found some yellow segments resembling the skin of the fruit that a moment ago he held in his hands.

Moving further into the mishmash of branches; many of which had been recently snapped back, he noticed, Baroli spotted a whole shell, broken in half, lying opened upon the wide branch upon which he was crawling.

It must have taken some force to prize such a shell open, he thought to himself. And then he looked down over the branch to the network of branches below, and gave a shrill series of whistles.

Within seconds he heard a similar call mimic his own. Then, another from a different direction. Then, another further down. Until all five of his companions could eventually trace his beckoning whistles to their point of origin; to join him gathered squat around his discovery.

Together in the gloom under the tight knit lattice - work of the unconventional tree house, the men managed to piece together evidence of its lodger; the circumference of his jaw by the teeth marks embedded in a half-eaten piece of fruit, the colour and rough texture of his hair; by clusters being snagged on the end of branches. And the strong, overpowering aroma all round, of ape!

Even in the gloom, the men could recognise the knowing look on each other’s faces as their eyes met each other. They also could tell which half were smiling eyes, and which were not; conveying a host of words unspoken.

Back on the ground at the base of the tree, the men gathered again. This time, to discuss not only the implications of their finds, but their more immediate actions.

Do they sit it out and wait for Kong’s return to the tree, to get visual confirmation; so as to back up their findings?

The question was also raised as to whether or not Kong would return at all. Or was this place just a temporary residence enroute to another location?

That was the hypothesis presented by Marzubra, who reasoned:

"I do not think Kong is coming back here; this is not his home" he gestured upward to the tree under which they sat.

"How can you be sure?" queried Krektar.

"For one thing I am certain" answered Marzubra, "judging by the size of his teeth marks, this Kong is not yet fully grown. And there is not enough fruit on even this oversized tree alone to satisfy the needs of a growing ape of his size."

"What is more," he added "this is not where his kind dwells. His family (if he still has one) or his ancestors come from the far side of the island: a place known as Skull Mountain!"

Chapter Twelve

The crocodile has long been heralded as a living ancestor of the dinosaur era. Mercifully for humankind as well as many other kind that inhabit this planet, the type of crocodile that has survived since prehistoric time are somewhat streamlined, compared to their old world contemporaries. But Skull Island, of course, has not detached itself from that world.

One such individual; the Skull of which Palaeontologists have proudly laid claim to, has been dubbed "super-croc" in media circles. Although technically, according to the experts, it is not a true crocodile at all; its official name is "Sarcosuchus".

Sarcosuchus was - is, on Skull Island - a creature that can grow up to forty feet in length, from the tip of its strange growth tipped snout to the end of its tail. Its skull, alone, measures in length equal to a tall man lying flat on his back. Room enough to make a coffin for him, and room enough for its 132 teeth to grind his bones down to dust.

Although primarily a fish eater, the super croc would have no qualms in bringing down a large land creature, that was careless enough to stop for a drink in the same stretch of water that if frequented. The sheer bulk of Sarcosuchus, weighing in at ten to fifteen tons, as well as its staggering bite radius, meant that no living creature - not even a mighty T Rex - was off the menu.

What favoured this particular Sarcosuchus', awaiting a meal upon the central rivers of Skull Island, was the fact that the heavy rainfall had extended those rivers' breadth to the point that they virtually formed just one of enormous width. Making it considerable more treacherous for any soul wishing to cross over to the other side than usual.

For Kong, standing by the reduced bank of this new super highway of amalgamated rivers, it triggered great confusion and consternation in his mind. At a point of crossing that he'd negotiated many times with ease in the past, he was now confronted with a raging torrent that stretched out before him almost as far as he could see.

Pacing up and down the side of the river on all fours, like a frustrated zoo animal held in captivity behind iron bars, Kong's activity alerts the attention of two watery reptilian eyes, which barely discernibly, hover above the shallower waters along the edge.

Kong's pacing takes him away from the leviathan that waits menacingly below the surface. But it bides its time patiently; predicting the pattern of when his prey’s wandering will bring him back within reach.

Sure enough, Kong's heavy steps along the riverbank cause the water around the reptilian’s ears to vibrate with increasing intensity as he draws closer. The Sarcosuchus lowers its eyes under the water, so that it does not give its presence away. But the giant gorilla is so close now, that it can see his shape even from under the water; and his two massive legs like great tree trunks planted beside the river.

With frightening speed for a creature of its enormous size, the croc rears its head out of the water, and clamps its massive jaws around the calf of Kong's right leg.

Bellowing out a cry of pain and surprise, Kong feels himself being pulled into the murky waters below, in a tsunami-like shock wave, created by the two titans crashing against the current.

For a moment or two the gorilla finds himself completely submerged below the surface. It appears that whatever is attached to his leg with such a vice-like grip is intent on drowning him.

But Kong manages to bring himself upright, and thrust his head and shoulders upward out of the water, to suck in the life saving oxygen from above. He barely retains a lungful before he is dragged below once more; frantically punching the water before he descends completely out of sight, as the waves swallow him up.

Kong is all but blind in the flurry of bubbles and aquatic vegetation, which the ensuing struggle stirs up. But he manages to reach out and get a hold on the scaly surface of the living vice, which holds his leg like a bear trap.

Bending his trapped leg at the knee, Kong reaches out to get a firm hold of the Sarcosuchus' jaws; blindly feeling his way along the smooth folds of its gums and the multitude of jagged teeth in-between.

Planting his free foot firmly into the muddy bottom of the river bed, Kong lifts both his, and his captor’s head, out of the water, with all of his draining strength remaining, before his lungs reach breaking point.

Kong concentrates on just holding the river beast in place; not allowing it to pull him under again, before he can refill his lungs for one last gargantuan effort. The exhausted ape began to feel the giant croc slowly regaining the advantage of the deadly tug-of-war; fought between the oxygen- rich dry land world of above, and the watery underworld below. So it was now or never; straining every sinew from his fingers held tight around the beasts’ jaws, down his forearms, up to his rippling biceps and around to his herculean shoulder and back muscles. Kong pulled, and pulled and pulled an inch at a time until, although his lower right leg had long lost any feeling, his right thigh could still respond to messages received down through his nerves to pull out.

With fingers and legs free, the monster jaws snapped shut over thin air; just as if they were controlled by a huge spring belonging to a trap that's bait had just been sprung.

Unbeknown to Kong during the heat of the life-or-death struggle with the Sarcosuchus, their battle had taken them closer to the other side of the widened river, than the side where he began. For this at least, he was grateful. So that although he had to wade abdomen high, dragging his wounded leg behind him, it was not the great distance it might have been, or indeed, a distance too great for him to reach before, perhaps, the Sarcosuchus tried another attempt to pull him under.

As it was, the river monster, too, was exhausted from their titanic fray. With its whale-like bulk not suited for any prolonged hunt, or being accustomed to having to make a second assault on its prey of any size; one attempt was usually sufficient.

So as the giant crocodile meandered back upstream for an easier meal to catch, Kong scrambled his way up to higher, relatively safer, and most definitely, drier, land.

Chapter Thirteen

Having agreed to Marzubra's recommendation to press on, the six strong search party follow Kong's tracks to a cave entrance. Although the driving rains make it difficult to follow; as many of his tracks had been washed away. So between the trackers they had to rely on scent, markings on trees, and occasional droppings, to trace his route.

"His prints lead into the cave", said Yasomi, as he squatted next to half-visible giant footprints and knuckle marks.

"Perhaps he does not like getting wet".

"Who does?" answered Baroli, picking up the tone of sarcasm in Yasomi's comment; "Unless you are a fish!" he glared down at the tracker as he spoke.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Yasomi gestured with an open hand toward the cave "He's your god. Are you afraid to meet him?"

"Only the foolish have no fear," stated Marzubra "especially if they cannot see where it is they are going."

"All the same, it is you three who seek Kong." Yasomi pointed toward Marzubra, Baroli and Kalobi, “So it is fitting that, if he is within the cave, you are the ones who set eyes on him first. We three shall wait out here for you; in case you should need us to rescue you."

"Enough of this" bellowed Baroli as he headed toward the cave "I have not come this far to play childish games! You may be afraid to enter, Yasomi, but I am not."

Kalobi went to follow the big man into the cave, but Marzubra stayed him with a gentle hand upon his shoulder "No, Kalobi, you stay with the others. Baroli and I will go in. If we find Kong, we shall call you - all of you" he looked pointedly at Yasomi and his group.

As Marzubra jogged to follow Baroli into the darkness within, Yasomi discreetly cast his eyes down toward another remnant of a footprint; unnoticed by the untrained eye. It was that of a very large cave bear.

A faint smile crossed the trackers lips.

Now out of the light that the cave's entry way allowed them, Marzubra and Baroli had to wait to readjust their vision to the gloom that surrounded them.

As the two men cautiously stepped deeper into the cave, Marzubra stopped in his tracks and whispered "Do you hear that sound?"

Baroli stood still and could detect a low and steady breathing sound, resonating in the darkness ahead.

Then it fell eerily silent; combining with the pitch darkness, to create a claustrophobic atmosphere of fear that was almost tangible. Before a deep, spine tingling roar exploded around the men’s ears; causing their hearts to almost jump out of their chests.

Both men instinctively turned to flee toward the direction from whence they came. But a massive paw flew out from the darkness behind them, with the force of an iron demolition ball, to bowl the pair of them off their feet.

Baroli was quickest to his feet and lurched toward the feint light of the opening ahead of them. But suddenly felt the ground disappear from beneath him, as he was swept up into the air by powerful arms.

Though Baroli stood head and shoulders above anyone else from his village, he look like a mere rag doll in the arms of the giant cave bear; as it pulled him close to its chest in a suffocating embrace.

By this time, Kalobi, Krektar and Shilamnu had entered into the cave and, for a moment, were transfixed in a horror at the sight of their most renowned warrior being crushed to death by this monstrous bear, before their very eyes.

A sudden unexpected shriek of pain from the colossal beast's saliva-drenched jaws broke the spell; then they followed suite Marzubra's blind attack from the bear's rear with a full frontal assault of their own, via a volley of spears into its midriff.

The coordinated onslaught was enough to cause the bear’s grip on Baroli to weaken; as he slid from under its arms, six feet to the hard ground, in an ungainly, lifeless heap.

Marzubra and Krektar picked up their spears, and used them to try and keep the beast at arm’s length; whilst Kalobi and Shilamnu struggled to pull the weighty Baroli to safety, before they, too, re-joined the fray.

In this half-light nearer the entrance to the cave, the men started to gain the advantage of clearer sight against their giant adversary. And so they managed to co-ordinate a circle around the beast, as they gradually drove it further into the light.

Each time the confused bear had her back toward an opponent, he would stealthily zero in to deliver a swift swipe of his dagger, or prod of his spear.

In the course of time, the skilled hunters gradually gained the upper hand and subsequent mastery over the tiring behemoth; whose multiple wounds to her legs forced her to collapse down onto her belly in a heavy, exhausted crash.

From out of the darkness of the cave there then came strange yelping sounds. Followed by two pairs of low set eyes. The men turned and raised their weapons as one, to greet this new threat. But then slowly lowered them, as two furry bear cubs stepped into the light.

The cubs, although they stood waist-high to the men even on all fours, sniffed at their mother's enormous fallen frame for succour.

However, her shallow breathing, Kalobi knew, indicated that her offspring were soon to be plunged into a bitter fight for survival as orphans. Kalobi felt a sudden pang of remorse in the part that he had unwittingly played in their fate.

"There is enough meat here to feed the entire village" Yasomi's voice surprised them all, as he stood beside the carcass of the bear. “And enough friskiness in those cubs to keep our children entertained for nights on end."

"You will leave those cubs be" reprimanded Marzubra, sternly. "Besides, where have you been?  Hiding?"

"Tracking" Yasomi responded, all too quickly. "That's why I was chosen on this trip, remember? And if you want to find your god, Kong, then you had better follow me; while the tracks that he has left are still there for me to read."

With that, he turned abruptly without giving a second glance to the stricken Baroli; who was being helped to his feet by Shilamnu and Krektar. And proceeded to stride purposefully out into the rain.

Through gritted teeth, Baroli, standing with one arm leaning on Krektar's shoulder, breathlessly spoke the words: "If he is the tracker he claims to be, then why did he not see any tracks of this cave beast that nearly took our lives, instead of hers?"

"There are times" replied Marzubra sagely, "when a man sees only what he chooses to see."

Chapter Fourteen

Unable to find any place high enough to provide security; whilst he recovered from his injuries sustained in the battle with the Sarcosuchus, Kong limped onwards until he came to, what appeared to be, another extremely wide obstacle to negotiate.

But this one, as he stood upon the precipice of a yawning, bottomless chasm, was one that drew up welcoming feelings of familiarity; rather than the frustration felt at the sight of the raging river that he'd just crossed, almost at the cost of his life.

Standing there, gazing down into the very throat of the canyon, Kong began to recall distant memories of when he was seemingly swallowed up in its bowels deep down at the bottom; when the T Rex had nudged him over the edge on the other side of the ravine.

Kong remembered, too, how he climbed out of the shattered log, which helped break his fall. And how, as just a scrawny infant, he managed the agonising climb upwards to the side upon which he was now standing, exerting his limited reach to their limits; grabbing hold of a cleft in the rock face here, a protruding branch or root there. A jutting piece of rock that ether took his weight, or, sometimes, fell passed him, or on top of him on its long way down to the bottom; which waited greedily to swallow Kong up forever, should he decide to join it.

But with each minor avalanche that Kong survived, with each pull and foothold he managed to negotiate successfully, he gained a small victory. Until, after what seemed an eternity in his young mind, he made his final reach upward. And with both hands, pulled his aching body up to the zenith of the precipice.

Kong now raised his head to look across to the land that existing on the other side; where he was raised. Where the Skull Mountain stood. Where he belonged. And where he knew he must return.

This, he now realised, was what was pulling him like an invisible rope. He also knew that somewhere along the stretch of ravine, which virtually cut the island in two, there was a way to cross. Because he started to recall a time when he lay stretched out, carried along on his father's back, and looking down into the canyon, which appeared to be moving as they crossed.

He had two directions to choose to find that way; instinctively he opted to go left. And it was not long until he came upon that which he was searching for; before him, outstretched way out to the other side of the ravine, lay the thick trunk of a huge fallen tree. Whether it provided a bridge by design or just good fortune, Kong did not care. To him it was like an open drawbridge to a castle welcoming back its king - a king that had returned to regain his kingdom!

Chapter Fifteen

"It is useless to continue," stated Yasomi emphatically. 'This continuous rain has made it impossible for even I to follow the tracks of this creature. Whatever it is!"

"You know very well what it is" replied Marzubra following closely behind him. "Perhaps that is why you seek to quit, because we are getting closer to the truth!"

"Think what you will. All the same, I cannot pick up where the tracks left off. Especially with that raging river up ahead" Yasomi nodded forward.

"It doesn't matter. I know the way from here."

"What do you mean, Marzubra?"

"I told you before, Yasomi. - Kong is heading for his ancestral home. It is north from here; the other side of the river. Therefore, Kong must have already crossed it."

"Well, either way," Yasomi was shouting now, to make himself heard over the thunderous rapids "like I said, the search ends here. Unless you propose spiriting yourself into a fish. But sadly, we do not have a powerful Shaman in our midst; as far as I am aware!"

"We do not need one. Around us there is much wood. We shall build a raft and row to the other side!"

"You have taken leave of your senses, Marzubra! All this rain has shrunken your brain! The current is too strong to fight against. You will be shattered to pieces!"

"Twelve strong arms will prevail."

"Ha! There, I told you that you are losing your mind. You cannot count! I for one am not risking my life on a fool's quest. And what use is Baroli to you? He can barely stand on his own two feet on solid ground; let alone a raft that would be tossed about like a leaf in a windstorm!"

"I can stand my ground with any man, or any river!" Baroli made himself and his intentions crystal clear, even above the raging torrent.

"As for you, Yasomi, you were selected for this task along with the rest of us" added Marzubra. "The elders, or the rest of the village, for that matter, would not look favourably upon one who claims to be a fearless warrior, and yet turns his back on a quest they have chosen him for, at the first sign of danger."

It took several hours of hard work to build the raft in the driving rain; making it difficult to cut up fibres from soggy plants to form into ropes strong enough to bind the wood together. And making it sufficiently tight, so as to prevent the craft from being dashed to pieces once it was in the water.

As soon as the hand-blistering graft of constructing the raft was finally completed to Marzubra's satisfaction, at his nod, the six men took a corner each and two both side of its flanks, and lifted it steadily down to the water's edge.

Marzubra, Yasomi and Krektar carried their end backward waist high into the river, as the remaining men steadied the raft from the shore, as it began to be buffeted vigorously by the strong current.

When all six were on board, albeit precariously, they each picked up one of the long, crude oars that Marzubra and Shilamnu had carved. Each man keeping his position as best he could, as the river made its protest violently at their presence upon its surface.

With Baroli's strong, powerful arms counteracting the force of the forward flow from the stern to help them cut across, the men made good progress toward the centre steam of the river.

On several occasions a man would lose his footing, and have to counterbalance himself with an adroit shift of the hips or bend of a knee to prevent falling overboard. But each managed to stay upright as they rode the rapids; gradually working their way to within a hundred yards of the other side.

But without warning, and totally out of keeping with the magnitude of the waves they had thus far encountered, a massive force lifted the raft between its bow and starboard sides, clear out of the water, as the giant jaws of the Sarcosuchus reached over to envelope Krektar and drag him under the waves in one chillingly, clinical motion.

The world of the would-be sailors had literally turned on its head, as they struggled to get their heads above water level and grab a hold of the raft, before it disappeared upstream without them.

As fortune would have it, the raft became lodged between the boulders. But it gradually began to fall apart, as the impact had made the logs come loose from the rope that bound them together.

Soon there was only half the raft left, as Kalobi grasped hold of a section that was just beginning to separate, and found himself becoming detached from the main; which Baroli, Marzubra and Shilamnu desperately clung to.

Kalobi felt panic-stricken as he saw the men moving away behind him, whilst he was being whisked upstream by the log he was attached to.

"Let go!" he heard the booming voice of Baroli, above the water gushing in and around his ears. And he saw Baroli stretch out another log; as he anchored himself upon one of the rocks, toward him.

Knowing he had no choice if he wanted to increase his chances of survival, Kalobi let go of the one log and frantically splashed about in an effort to secure a hold upon the one that Baroli presented him with.

With Baroli's injuries (inflicted earlier by the cave bear) beginning to take their toll on him, the big man was in visible pain as he tried to pull the log, which Kalobi clung to, toward him. Aware of this, Marzubra and Shilamnu came to his aid as best they could, with the rapids pressing against them.

Slowly but surely, the three men worked the log hand over hand toward them. Until Kalobi was in reach for Baroli to extend his large, welcoming hand to the youngster. Who, gratefully accepting with a firm hold, was reeled in like a big fish to the safety of the rocks, which his companions shared with him.

Marzubra scanned the river all around them for signs of Krektar and Yasomi; before indicating to the rest of the survivors to move the log they used to save Kalobi, toward some rocks which were situated closer to the edge of the river, on the side they were attempting to reach.

The four managed to secure the log between the rocks beside the shore. And one by one, with Kalobi first, they held onto it as they crossed, while the remainder of them held it fast from where the raft had lodged further out. Until, only Baroli; still the strongest amongst them, despite his injury, was left holding the loose end.

He then propelled himself toward the others, whilst still holding on; trusting his three companions to prevent the force of the tide from sweeping the unsecured end upstream, and him with it, before he could reach them.

Baroli's faith in his friends was rewarded as, with gritted teeth, they held out long enough to allow Baroli time to pull himself alongside them; before the unyielding pressure of the current against the log forced their aching arms to give out, and allow the wood to be claimed by the waves.

Now in shallower water, the four men could make their way to solid ground without great difficulty. And as soon as they had done so, they all gratefully fell to their hands and knees; coughing out water-filled lungs and gasping for air.

Upon standing, each man turned to face the raging river; thankful that it had not claimed their souls as it had two of their number. For whom they each silently offered their own words of prayer.

However, as they turned and followed Marzubra into the jungle, they failed to see a pair of human hands grasp the overhanging branches at the edge of the river, followed by the figure of a drenched man up out of the water; it was Yasomi.

He waited until the others were out of sight, before following cautiously in their steps. With Krektar lost to the river monster, Yasomi did not like the fact that the odds were now in favour of the gorilla worshippers; who, led by Marzubra’s ancient knowledge and the geography of the island, rather than relying on the tracking ability of Yasomi (who had it in his power to mislead them), were in danger of finding their living idol. And reporting it back to the village.

This, Yasomi could not permit. And there were those in the village who were relying on him to make sure, at any cost, that it would not happen. Those like Elkana the elder, and Zarubok, the Shaman, and self-appointed priest of the Tyrannosaur cult; both with vested interest in Kong remaining obsolete in the spiritual lives of 'their flock', and hopefully, in time, to the remainder, who still clung on to the thin threads of their faith in the gorilla god.

The two men had, in Kong's absence, established for themselves quite a profitable niche; as they promoted their religious reforms to include the tyrannosaur as an object of veneration, rather than exclusive devotion to the ape god.

Elevating themselves as supreme custodian of the new faith, Elkana, like a tyrannical sovereign; aptly living up to the name of his beast of devotion, and Zarubok, like his corrupt papal cohort, had drawn a large, fanatical following that they could manipulate according to their political whim, rewarding them with a new, fresher 'opium of the people', 'tickling their ears' as the apostle Paul so eloquently expressed it in his epistle to Timothy. Promising them much as long as their sacrifices and gifts of offerings met with the approval of the tyrannosaur god, or more to the point, the approval of the men who sanctioned and sanctified such sacrifices, for the ultimate enjoyment of the co-conspirators themselves.

Being a beneficiary of this immoral arrangement (or be it only in comparative crumbs, given Yasomi's lowly position in the food chain compared to the riches reaped by his masters), Yasomi was not about to give it up. And so, neither would he reveal his presence to Marzubra and the others up ahead of him. Better for them to believe that he be dead, and therefore, unprepared for the opportune moment that he can lend an invisible hand to their future.

If he bided his time patiently, mused Yasomi, then his moment would come. As surely as night follows day.

Chapter Sixteen

Although Skull rock was still not visible from Kong's current position, surrounded by towering trees and mountains, he instinctively knew that he was heading in the right direction.

His instincts, though, were momentarily confused, as he wandered into a clearing that revealed a hitherto hidden and almost indistinguishable man-made structure; camouflaged by creeping ivy and vines so entwined with the large stone bricks and wooden beams, that they appeared as part of the edifice.

Its size and rigid composition reminded Kong of the large construction that the hairless-bodied ape-like ones stood upon, when his father took him to their abode, on the night of a full moon, long ago.

This structure, though, was notably different. For one thing, it appeared dishevelled, and not intact. Large, smooth, oblong boulders lay strewn on the floors; as if they'd fallen out of the walls that their fellow members were made up of. Walls with uneven gaps in them.

The strange architecture was also lacking in the other construction. Kong came upon a pillar with an effigy resembling the face of his father carved upon it; so uncannily lifelike that he felt compelled to reach out his hand and touch it. But withdrew it as soon as his fingertips came into contact with cold, hard stone, rather than, as he had expected- or rather perhaps- had hoped, to feel the warm, soft skin and hair of his real father's face.

The poignancy of the moment was short-lived, as Kong's keen sense of curiosity, aroused by his odd, unfamiliar surroundings, began to be superseded by the less welcoming, though familiar, battle fatigue, that he had carried with him all the way from his narrow escape at the river; on the other side of the canyon.

Ahead of him, rose a very wide staircase which caught his eye, and piqued Kong's interest again for two reasons: one; that it was arranged in a familiar fashion to something he had seen during his excursion with his father, to the human settlement, once again. Only, that one had a banquet of fruit that his father shared, rather conservatively, with him.

But the main attraction with this particular edifice was the fact that it supported a platform, which was high above the ground. And thus, providing Kong with his most immediate needs; somewhere to rest his weary and aching limbs, particularly his wounded leg. And with the added benefit of being out of easy reach of any lurking carnivores.

Kong ascended the stairway with heavy, drawn out steps; until he reached the top level, which afforded him ample room to stretch out his mighty frame, like a giant, proverbial lounge lizard.

The unusual peacefulness of his location lent itself to what his body yearned for most at this particular moment; sleep.

But before his eyelids closed, it occurred to Kong that such peace and quiet were also unacquainted with the scene that he met, when he last encountered mankind. The night beside the great wall was one of revelry, pounding drums and fanatically flickering torches waving to and fro, atop and alongside the wall.

Here though, was the exact opposite. This place was devoid of life. Any life, but that of his own. It felt empty and unlived in for a long, long time. Or at least, that is how it seemed...

Chapter Seventeen

At long last the rain had mercifully stopped. Almost as suddenly as it had begun. As if a giant hand had abruptly turned off a shower hose at the mains. Now Kong's giant footprints would cease to be washed away from the soggy earth and much easier to follow.

In the course of time, Marzubra and his followers picked up the trail again. It led them to the edge of an enormous canyon and then abruptly turned left alongside the edge of it. They did likewise. Eventually, they came upon the fallen tree that served as a bridge to the other side. And noticing how Kong's footprints ended as soon as they reached the tree, concluded that he must have used it for that very purpose, to which they, once more, followed suit.

Although the makeshift bridge was only just wide enough to allow a beast the size of Kong safe passage, his simian agility and prehensile attributes allowed him to negotiate the wet moss-covered surface without a second thought.

For a man to cross over, though, despite the fact that he had ample width to do so, he would be wise to remember that one false step, one slip, could mean certain death, given the distance should he fall. With such knowledge in mind, Marzubra led the men over the nooks and crannies of the prostrate tree at a careful, unhurried pace.

Upon alighting safely on the other side, they continued to follow Kong's unmistakeable tracks into the jungle; eventually coming across the temple, which Kong had earlier stumbled upon.

The four men stood in awe of the structure, in a not too dissimilar way that Kong himself had done much earlier. But, for them, it took on a greater significance. For they had a kinship with this place that they were, up until their discovering it right now, completely unaware even existed, even in the mind of Marzubra, the oldest and most knowledgeable among them.

"I have heard tales" he said in a reverent tone " Tales passed down to my father, from his father, and even from his father's father, of a time long ago, where our people dwelled among the gods – I believe this must be the place."

With craned necks they looked up at stone pillars that competed in stature with many of the surrounding trees, which had grown and closed in around them over many decades. With eyes fixed at the wonders above and around them, they ascended a wide stairway which led to a large open gateway in the stone wall before them. With the wooden gates long detached from their hinges and broken in shreds all around.

The visitors walked through the doorway into a vast hall, with half its walls broken and moss covered. And, high up, wooden crossbeams, which once, evidently, supported walkways. Or even, perhaps, another floor level.

Dim shafts of light broke through the scaffolding above; giving it the appearance of a cathedral's interior, bathed in diffused sunlight through its stained glass windows.

The welcoming light also shone upon one of the remaining walls, to draw Baroli's attention to a relief upon the stone surface, depicting matchstick men giving homage to ape-like figures that stood towering over them.

"Come and look at what I have found" he called excitedly to the others, who were standing in a semi-circle, transfixed around a life-size sculpture of Kong's head. One by one, the group of admirers pulled themselves away, Kalobi being the last to join them as they stood in a line to study the wall relief.

It appeared to be telling a story, maybe the history, even, of the people that made the surroundings. After showing their peaceful co-existence with the giant gorillas, the next scene seemed to change mood dramatically, with people; men, women and children, it appeared, running away from something. And warriors, with spears and arrows being shot toward whatever it was they were running from. Marzubra was so engrossed with following the tale with his finger that he did not look where he was stepping. And before he could discover what the next scene depicted, he found himself falling head over heels through a broken hatch door, down a dusty staircase and flat on his back at the bottom of a dingy basement.

No sooner had he fallen, than his companions, to a man, rushed down the stairway to his rescue. In his haste to get round the other two men, and lend his own helping hand to get Marzubra back up, Shilamnu stepped on something that cracked audibly beneath his foot. He instinctively turned around to see what it was. And even in the dim light that the doorway above meagrely spared them, he had little trouble in identifying a nest of eggs; one of which he had evidently crushed.

Adjusting to the darkness some more, he could see that the room they were in went back much further than it had first appeared. And that beyond the nest of eggs there were other eggs, broken? no, hatched. He could also see little lithe shapes moving about and emerging out of the darkness!

The other men's attention was drawn to what Shilamnu could see, causing Kalobi to ask: "What are they?" Before answering, Baroli looked around at what he thought at first were larger, unhatched eggs, then answered:

"I do not know, but I have no wish to meet their parents". As it dawned upon him that what he mistook to be eggs, were in fact, human skulls!

Suddenly, the twittering noises emanating from the bird-like beaks of the baby reptiles rapidly increased in volume, to a crescendo of ear piercing shrills of alarm, which echoed around the walls under the low hung ceiling. The babies were in distress. And they were calling for help!

Yasomi poked his head around the doorway of the entrance to the temple. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he made his way silently in. They must have moved further in into the building’s interior, he reasoned to himself, as the others were nowhere to be seen. Although he thought that he could hear feint, muffled voices from somewhere nearby.

When Yasomi came to the monument of Kong that they had passed by moments ago, his jaw dropped to leave his mouth gaping wide open, as an expression of both anger and disgust crossed his face.

"No! No!" he spat the words out bitterly, turning his head aside so that he did not have to face the object of his disdain any longer. Facing the wall with the relief etched on it, he stepped toward it so as to get a clearer view. But he almost wished he had not, as once again it only confirmed what he feared most, that the people of the island, even from parts that he never realised people existing in, worshipped the gorilla god Kong. This news must not spread, he thought to himself. The existence of this place must not be made known to his people. To that end, he was fortified in his determination that only he and Shilamnu - if he does not speak of their find - must return to the village alive.

He began to walk away from the wall relief, having seen enough of what he needed to, when he heard voices once again. This time much closer. In fact, they appeared to be coming from right in front of him almost.

Looking down in front of his feet, Yasomi saw an open trap door in the floor that he had not noticed before; such was his pre-occupation with the wall relief. And stairs were leading down - that's where the voices were coming from, he suddenly realised.

Then, another sound broke forth from the open hatch: animal calls, like birds, only more rasping. At first, intermittently. Before developing into a chorus of shrieks, becoming more and more urgent in their intensity.

Almost before Yasomi had time to move out of sight, he could hear the men hurriedly making their way up the steps and just caught a glimpse of Baroli's bald crown. He turned and ran in a panic, toward the only thing within reach that could offer him a place to hide: the stone carving of Kong.

The irony of the situation - that he was seeking refuge in the shadow of the idol that he was vehemently opposed to -was lost on Yasomi in the heat of the moment.

He tried to control his rapid breathing so that he would not give his presence away to the others. But he need not have bothered; as they all sounded more concerned about something more pressing.

"I told you" insisted Baroli, "look at the drawings." They had their backs toward Yasomi as they took heed of their companion, who was pointing to something. Yasomi could not see what it was, only that it was on the wall relief just above the trap doorway.

"Those are the skulls of people down there" he pointed emphatically with his other hand down toward the steps they had just ascended. "And those creatures down there are the offspring of the ones responsible for their deaths. Just as this picture shows."

"And if we do not hurry," added Marzubra, "they will be responsible for our heads being added to those down below."

Without delay, the four men headed toward the entrance to the temple from where they came. Giving Yasomi the opportunity to run swiftly to the focus of their attention on the wall relief.

It did not take long for him to find it; the final scene in the sequence of potted history frames was one of utter carnage and terror, people, young and old, fleeing whilst armed warriors fought a losing battle behind them against an army of demonic-looking man-beasts, chasing them on two legs, jumping at them, and on top of others. With long, hideous claw-like daggers extended toward them; tearing their bodies apart in a blood bath, and eating them alive in-between the fangs of their long-muzzled faces.

Yasomi swallowed tightly as he began to realise why Marzubra and the other men were not keen to stay around for long.

In fact, neither did he.

Part Five: When Kong becomes King

Chapter Eighteen:

When the Velociraptors first become aware of Kong's presence above the brood, which was nestled below the temple's raised floor, initially it caused some alarm.

As soon as the pack had returned from their hunting trip, they sensed that there was something amiss in the nucleus of their territory. Just by their advanced sense of smell. An unfamiliar aroma was present they had not been there when they had left earlier.

In unison the Raptors sniffed the floor like bloodhounds on the trail of an escaped convict. They stopped at the foot of the stairs to the grand altar, where they all raised their heads, each one tilted side angles to look up at the summit.

Three of the pack, acting as scouts, took tentative steps up to within a few steps of the top, craning their necks to view what manner of creature dared to traverse their domain.

It was very large and very formidable- looking. But it was deep in slumber; and therefore, offered no immediate danger to their colony. Not only did it not pose any threat to the Raptors; it also served no use as food. For one, it was too powerful to be considered as potential prey, even for the whole pack. They instinctively and collectively remembered that from observing others of its kind that they had had encountered in the past. Additionally, as they had just embarked upon a successful hunt that yielded enough meat for themselves as well as the brood, there was no urgent need to kill again.

So as is the case with most predators, single or pack members, when their appetites are satisfied, or when they feel unthreatened, they live and let live. Thus the Raptors left the outstretched interloper to his sleep. Then they resumed their task by picking up the kill that they had dropped beside the temple gate. And then dragging what was left of it down the steps to the basement where their young eagerly awaited, snapping and biting at the offering like things possessed.

The next invasion of the Raptors' den was entirely a different affair altogether. Once more the adult members were out on a hunt, as feeding a large family necessitates. But this time the hunt was cut short even before the pack had selected a suitable target.

Being within hearing range of the brood, as they tried whenever possible to be in case an opportunist predator discovered their lair, they immediately heard the call.

As one body the pack turned on their heels without a moment’s hesitation to head in the direction of the sound, cutting a swathe through the dense jungle undergrowth of anything in their way.

As they moved within three hundred yards of the temple boundary, the alarm call of their young descended to a cessation. But the pack did not break its stride until it caught sight of four intruders making their way through the main opening through the temple wall.

Unlike the first trespasser, Kong, these were strange figures to their eyes; beings the like of which had not been beheld by the eyes of their species for successive generations.

Although the creatures shared characteristics with the Raptors that only other inhabitants of their region might, in part: their height (apart from one which was much taller), their biped motion, to a degree (although more upright), even their hairless bodies; and a complete lack of horns, or frills, or plates, or anything else that other dinosaurs might possess, all that aside, these new creatures that stood before them now were, in truth, unlike anything else that they had ever encountered, utterly alien to their world, and for that very reason alone, the pack had decided almost telepathically that they were a threat. And they must be destroyed!

"Where should we go, Marzubra?" asked Shilamnu as they approached the stairway leading out of the temple, "If that underground place that we just left was built as a refuge, then it clearly did not serve its purpose."

"The only purpose it could serve for a man now would be as his grave," Baroli added with a touch of gallows humour.

Kalobi kept quiet trailing behind his seniors; as he often did out of respect and his own lack of confidence, but on this occasion, out of the collective fear that the normally unruffled warriors were emitting since their morbid discovery. He simply was too frightened to speak.

Then, nobody spoke, and everybody stood still half way down the wide stairway.

Finally, as if almost to break the unbearable tension, Kalobi did speak, although in a hoarse whisper; "What is it?" he barely forced the words out.

"We're being watched" Marzubra answered, equally as quietly.

Then Kalobi picked up on what his more experienced colleagues had already sensed; the invisible eyes in the jungle around them, burning through their very flesh, penetrating the depths of their souls, reading the fear locked up within their hearts.

The Velociraptors' spread themselves out in a semi-circle, before leaping out of their jungle surroundings into the clearing to make themselves visible to the humans. And just stood facing them, as if to unnerve them into making a rush move.

Marzubra was the first to make any sort of move, be it ever so slight, and then only his right arm to slowly raise his spear. "Do as I do," he whispered to his companions, "slowly - no sudden moves."

Baroli and Shilamnu followed his instructions, but Kalobi was too stiff with fright to move a single muscle. Noticing that fact out of the corner of his eye, Marzubra gently but firmly said "We are going to need every man in this fight; including you, Kalobi."

It took all of Kalobi's will and courage that he could muster to begin to raise his spear, without jerking it from the step too abruptly. And then, to hold it pointed forward, without it shaking in his sweat- covered hand.

The two groups faced each other like that in a bizarre type of Mexican stand-off until Marzubra, once more, took the initiative by raising his right leg at the knee slowly backward. Followed by his left, to go back up a step.

Without the prompt of a command this time, the three others did the same.

However, to each of the men's surprise and dread, the Raptors, like a well drilled military platoon on parade, not only mimicked their one step toward them, but added a second, to bring them a step closer.

These reptiles possessed intelligence, the men realised, unlike any other type they had encountered before. And they were employing a tactic of psychological warfare in their opening strategy; to drive their intended prey just where they wanted them … by breaking their nerve!

Almost without will of their own, the men instinctively also took two steps- backwards- towards the top of the stairs.

It was inevitable to each one of them that the Raptors would match their two steps and raise the stakes with another of their own, in this deadly game of bluff.

The pack were now at the foot of the stairs and the semi-circle had closed in; giving the men a better count in the narrower field of vision in which they stood. There were, at a glance, nine or ten, maybe more. But they were certainly outnumbered.

Reaching the top step now, backing toward the wall, Marzubra became conscious of the arch of the gateway above their heads and said firmly to Shilamnu on his right, "When I give the word, Shilamnu, you and I will run to the right behind the wall, and head for higher ground."

"You, Baroli," he said to the tall figure on his right "When I give that word, take Kalobi and do the same thing to the left. That way, we have a chance of dividing these devils and perhaps even confusing them for a moment to buy us precious time."

For the briefest of moments whilst he awaited Marzubra's signal, Kalobi wondered if he would ever hear Marzubra’s voice again afterward. Or, indeed, whether he would ever see any of these men alive again.

The thought was shattered by Marzubra's shout: "GO! NOW!"

Kalobi turned and ran as fast as he'd ever run in his life, but still struggled to keep up with Baroli's longer stride; despite the fact that the big man was still nursing an injured rib cage.

Above the sound of the two men's frantic footsteps upon the stone floor, as well as their laboured breathing, Kalobi could still hear the blood-curdling cries of the Raptors, and the clamour of their charging up the steps to the gateway behind him created.

Despite Marzubra's hopes, the men's sudden disappearance behind the wall and splitting in two different directions did nothing to confuse their pursuers. To the contrary, they did not even break their stride as they divided their ranks in two also. But more followed after Marzubra-and Shilamnu particularly- as it was he who carried the aroma of the shattered egg of one of their own upon his heel.

The two men came close to the corner of the courtyard, and Marzubra cut across at an angle to a breach in the wall facing them, with Shilamnu following. But instead of climbing through the gap, which he haughted at upon seeing the near twenty foot drop leading only into the jungle beyond it, Marzubra began scrambling up the side of the wall's break, which acted like steps. Albeit, very uneven and jagged steps.

But Marzubra decided this was the wiser of the two choices available; even if they could climb down into the jungle, then they would be in the natural domain of the Raptors, where they would not stand a chance.

But here, on what was left of something built by their own race, and in a position that their savage pursuers would find difficultly in reaching them upon, the men could fight the enemy on their terms.

Unfortunately though, the height of the broken wall was only around eight feet at its maximum point. And when the men reached it, the Raptors were soon jumping up, snapping at their ankles like angry guard dogs at a security fence. Two of their number broke rank and manoeuvred to the lowest part of the wall either side. One; where the two men had climbed up. The other; to the furthest side to prevent their escape via that route.

With both escape routes now blocked, the men were trapped on top of the narrow width of the walls upon which they stood, with increasing difficulty, as they struggled to avoid the snapping jaws of the Raptors and keep their balance so as not to fall.

Both sides of the wall presented its own danger, were they to do so.

Behind them lay a drop of nearly twenty five feet; with boulders and rocks jutting out from the temple foundation to break their fall, along with their bones. Should either one of them be fortunate enough to survive they certainly would not be in one piece. And if by some miracle they were, it would not be for long, because the Raptors would soon be upon them.

Beneath their feet, before them, awaited certain violent death at the clawed hands and razor-sharp teeth, eager to rip them to shreds.

Both men prodded their spears down at the leaping Raptors, but it did little to dissuade their advance. Until Shilamnu managed to lodge his weapon into the neck of one of the assailants, as it leapt for his ankle.

The creature fell to the floor with Shilamnu's spear protruding out of its neck, although it was not dead. But it was, at least, out of action as it lay on the floor, writhing in agony.

It also meant that Shilamnu was minus his main defence. And when he turned his head to see what he felt breathing on his right shoulder, he wished that he had the weapon back in his hands again.

Because whilst he and Marzubra were being distracted by the group of Raptors down in front of them, one of the others had somehow managed to scale the broken wall and creep up on his blind side.

Before he could even reach for the knife on his belt, the devil creature was upon him in a flash of teeth and claws. Shilamnu's agonising cries of terror drew Marzubra's attention away from the main group and to his aid. But Shilamnu, whether by accident or one last act of heroism, wrestled the beast that was enwrapped around him toward the back edge of the wall, where they both fell still locked together to plummet head first, shattering both of their skulls on the rocks below.

Parallel with the inside wall was a rickety wooden stairway, which, as soon as Baroli put his size eleven foot upon, broke on the first step. He then proceeded with a little more caution as he ascended, but mindful that the Raptors were not far behind them, so could not afford to be overly cautious.

More steps gave way under Baroli's weight as they made their ascent. Kalobi began to wish that he were the one in front as he clung on to the precarious rope bannister; which jerked violently every time that Baroli put his foot through a wooden step.

Kalobi then felt a sudden tug on the stairway further down below. When he looked around to see what had caused it, he was dismayed to see a Raptor following up behind them in a couple of leaps across the broken steps.

The men climbed higher, but now without the reassurance of the wall to the right to grip on to, as the rest of it had crumbled away; thus making their position more vulnerable, added to the fact that they were now at a dangerous height.

They reached a platform, no wider that the stairs themselves. Kalobi imagined it to have once served as a lookout post similar to that which ringed the top of the great wall that protected his village.

Once on top, the two men immediately turned to see what progress their enemies were making. There were now two of the killer reptiles making their way up.

Without hesitation Baroli got down on one knee, pulled out his long knife from its sheath and began vigorously hacking at the steps below him.

He then stood up, spear held pointed forward at the ready and proclaimed in a confident voice: "If any one of those devils can make that jump then he will be greeted by the point of my spear."

The first Raptor stopped on the last step available, seemingly sizing up the distance to the platform where the humans stood. It let out a battle cry of defiance before springing upward to take the end of Baroli's spear straight between its rib cage.

Baroli arched his back as he held the creature aloft at the point of his spear as if it were a piece of dead meat on a skewer, except it was still very much alive, attempting to scratch and claw at Baroli, while its blood began running down the spear onto the big man's hands.

The warrior then turned the struggling beast toward the rope bannister and let it drop over the edge, down to its companions on the ground. He waited to see whether they were partial to cannibalism so that he and Kalobi might make good their escape whilst the Raptors satisfied their hunger. But he was disappointed to see them completely ignore their fallen comrade, their attention still fixed firmly on the activity up above them.

Baroli concluded that the Raptors were either not desperately hungry enough to eat one of their own kind or, more likely, were focused one hundred per cent on riding their territory of those they considered as a threat to their young.

Baroli's musing over the Raptor's behaviour was cut short by Kalobi's frantic warning "Look out!" And he turned just in time to see the second Raptor, which he had forgotten about, leaping across the gap between the steps below and the platform. Baroli stumbled backward into Kalobi, and the Raptor landed with a loud crash a couple of feet away from them.

The impact caused the platform and its supporting scaffolding to wobble and collapse under their feet. Kalobi fell toward the rope banister, which separated from the platform as he grabbed a hold of it. His hands burnt as he slid down the rope for a couple of metres before he managed to get a firm enough grip to hold fast, suspended above the floor mid-air and above the gaping jaws of the Raptors eagerly waiting below.

The group of morbid bystanders then made haste, so as not to be included themselves among the victims of the accident, as the entire wood erection came crashing down around them, sending out clouds of dust in all directions.

Coughing and blinking, high above the wreckage, Kalobi hung on, waiting for the dust to clear to see it there were any sigh of movement indicating that Baroli had survived. He was not the only one who was anxious to find out, as the remaining Raptors, three of them, moved in toward the pile of debris.

Something stirred in the centre of the heap of ruins. Broken pieces of wooden scaffolding were being pushed aside as it emerged. Something had survived. But was it the other Raptor, or could it be as Kalobi dared to hope…

Suddenly, Baroli’s huge frame burst through, covered in dust, cuts and splinters. But alive.

The wooden framework must have broken his fall, Kalobi concluded. But now his friend faced a greater danger as the Raptors encircled him. All that Baroli was armed with was his long knife. Even he though, could not survive such odds, Kalobi knew.

The young man also knew that he would become the Raptors next victim after they had killed Baroli. After all, he could not hang onto the rope forever. Kalobi also was aware that if either of them could have the faintest hope of surviving the situation, then their chances would be improved if they fought the Raptors together. And to do that, Kalobi would have to act decisively and without delay before the Raptors struck.

Leaping from the rope to the floor, Kalobi shouted to distract the Raptors' attention. All three turned their heads toward him. And Baroli, right on cue, hurled his knife into the back of the Raptor closest to him.

It let out a cry of anguish which turned the heads of its companions back toward Baroli again, who, weaponless now, improvised with the nous of the street wise fighter that he was, grabbing ahold of the biggest piece of wood that was nearest to him and swung it, baseball style, into the windpipe of an onrushing Raptor, the force of the blow hurling the creature onto its back. Where it remained, motionless.

One down, one wounded, and one to go. The odds were improving in favour of the humans who, for once, had the reptiles where they wanted them: in between them and not the other way round.

Kalobi, down to his knife after losing his spear in the fall, crouched sumo style facing one of the Raptors, which stood back-to-back almost, the other was facing toward the wall and Baroli, classically posed for another "home run" with another improvised bat held over his shoulder.

In another remarkably coordinated attack, the two Raptors pounced simultaneously toward their chosen prey. If the moment had been caught on camera they would have appeared as two novelty bookends in almost identical poses facing away from each other. To Kalobi, at least, the seconds appeared almost to draw out into the frozen frames of time-lapse photography, as he anticipated the dreadful force of the reptilian killing machine's imminent arrival on top of him.

In the next blink of his eye, Kalobi was flat on his back and the monster was indeed pressing in on top of him, the scaly front of its muzzle so close to his face that Kalobi could feel the air from its dragon’s nostrils stroking his cheeks, hear it's heavy, deep, panting as if it were emanating from inside his own skull, and could almost taste its rancid breath, such was its pungency.

Lower down under the belly of the beast, Kalobi could feel a warm fluidity travelling between his fingers and the knife handle that he still tightly held onto, daring not to let go.

Kalobi felt the first moment when the life force left the hefty creature that had him pinned to the ground as its body suddenly went limp. And he realised that more by good fortune then good judgement his blade must have penetrated a vital organ, as the beast came down upon it with all its weight.

After struggling to free himself from under the sizeable corpse, Kalobi raised himself up on his elbows to see the back of the remaining Raptor. It was upright, and beneath it was Baroli.

Although almost silent, Kalobi could see around the Raptor's legs and swishing tail that Baroli was still alive; struggling with all his might to keep the jaws of the beast at bay with his powerful arms out at full stretch in front of him.

Kalobi was unaware of how the beast overcame his seemingly indestructible friend. How the old makeshift wood weapon had shattered in two on impact with this Raptor (unlike its less fortunate ally). What he was painfully aware of though, was that, without swift intervention, his friend was about to lose his final battle.

Turning to the body of the dead Raptor, Kalobi tried to pull out the knife; it took all his effort to do so. And as soon as he had succeeded he wheeled around to help save Baroli.

The sight that the young warrior faced stopped him in his tracks. The struggle was over; instead there was only a feeding.

The Raptor was eating Kalobi's friend!

With mixed outrage and grief, Kalobi flew at the predator's back, straddled it, holding the underside of its jaws back up toward him with one hand before it could make its next swallow, and bought his right arm around its neck to plunge the knife deep into its throat. Both rider and his mount fell sideways together. If Kalobi's first Raptor kill had been almost accidental, the second certainly was not. It was cold, clinical and calculated.

In that moment- not the initiation test when he slayed the wild boar- Kalobi felt that he had become a true warrior. Baroli would have been proud of him, he mused, had he lived to see it. Had Kalobi been a little faster in retrieving his knife. His feeling of triumph quickly dissipated into one of remorse that he was not there to save Baroli; who was there at the river to surely save Kalobi from being swallowed up by the waves.

Kalobi knelt beside Baroli's torn and bloody body with tears in his eyes. He wanted one last look at his friend's face. But upon seeing it regretted doing so, for Baroli's eyes were still open and staring upward with an expression of sheer terror written across them. It was a look that Kalobi would not soon forget and not how he remembered his friend when he was alive; a fearless, noble warrior. Without looking, Kalobi reached over to put his fingertips upon the deceased man’s eyelids and gently closed them.

The battle was over for his brave companion. But was it over for Kalobi, he mused almost as an afterthought?

Surveying the scene around him, the chamber had all the earmarks of the aftermath of war; dead bodies from both sides strewn about (the casualties of war), rubble, columns of dust still rising in the dim sunlight. Even a survivor or two, perhaps?

Kalobi's thoughts turned to Marzubra -and Shilamnu. How had they fared in battle?

As if to answer his question, Kalobi heard movement from across the hall where the other two men were last heading when their group split up.

It was difficult to see what was creating the noise above the fallen rubble of stone and monuments all around him. But Kalobi could make out several heads above it all, and they were all moving forwards…towards him!

"Marzubra! Shilamnu!" he tentatively called out. When there came no reply, Kalobi began taking hesitant steps backwards. And then it became all too apparent to him that the figures coming toward him were definitely not his friends. In fact, they were not even human!

The battle was indeed over for Baroli. As it must have been, evidently, for the rest of his companions, Kalobi realised. But it was not over for Kalobi, he knew, and he was about to face it alone.

Chapter Nineteen:

The huge killing machine lifted its head and sniffed the air. There was death in the air, in large quantities. And it was not far away.

The killing machine depended on this primary sense - its sense of smell - more than any other on its perpetual hunt for food in order to temper its insatiable appetite.

Its hearing had suffered with age. Whilst its eye sight-never its strong point-(as its kind were inherently short-sighted) was reduced even more by the fact that it was all but blind in one eye as a result of a wound inflicted long ago in a fight; a wound that never properly healed.

Once more the carnivore stopped in its tracks to locate where the unmistakable stench of death was drawing it to. The aroma was stronger now; it was close. It was very close.

Once Yasomi was satisfied that there would be no other human survivors, he discreetly left his hiding place behind a fallen pillar and headed toward a back exit from the temple, passed a large altar.

Confident that the Velociraptors were so involved in slaying and eating his former colleagues to pick up his scent as well, Yasomi took to flight down a wide staircase. His next move would be to get back to the point where they had crossed the ravine. But to do so he would need to pass the temple once more. But for obvious reasons he wanted to give the area a wide berth. Still, there was no immediate hurry. His main priority was to stay alive. And at the present time the greatest obstacle to that goal was surely the devil lizards, as the rest of the men had just found out for themselves.

So, to be on the safe side, Yasomi sought to take the long route round. Inside himself he felt the relief and exhilaration a person feels after escaping certain death, combined with that he was smug in the knowledge that everything had fallen into place without him having to lift a single finger. Better, in fact, than he could have hoped for.

So jubilant was his mood as he skipped impishly toward the jungle that he almost overlooked the giant figure that stood motionless among the tall trees, to his right.

It was not until the towering creature emitted a low growling noise that Yasomi's buoyant stride and demeanour were deflated as suddenly as air escapes from a burst balloon.

He stared wide-eyed at what he at first thought were two tree trunks, and continued his gaze upwards until his eyes were fixed upon the oversized head and drooling fangs of the killing machine; otherwise known as: Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Was this a sign? Yasomi pondered to himself. Had his god revealed his presence to him at this time; as a sign of his pleasure in the great service Yasomi was undertaking on behalf of the greatest one among beasts?

Surely, as terrifying a sight as his god was to behold, it would do no harm to Yasomi.

Why, the great one would surely permit this servant a safe passage back to the village; so that he could then tell the rest of his people that the mighty reptile is the only true Monarch of Skull Island.

In that moment, another thought (a divine revelation, Yasomi had no doubt) entered and confirmed his line of reason: The smaller devil Raptors, surely they are subservient to the great one before him. That is why they allowed Yasomi to live and not the others. He is the chosen one of man to return and bare witness to the truth: Kong is dead, long live the King!

Having swallowed his initial fear (after convincing himself that the killer monster, which loomed ominously over him, had in fact, the best of wishes towards him) Yasomi threw his open palms above his head, fingers outstretched, yelling out loud, and incoherent incantations before his god incarnate.

The spindly man, looking like a stick insect in the shadow of the hulking beast, then prostrated himself before the bemused giant who, losing patience with this easiest of pickings, needed no further invitations to scoop him up between its jaws and swallow him down whole.

If only Yasomi had kept still… and quiet. But Yasomi was, after all was said and done, an impulsive man; not one given to deep thought. Perhaps that is why, as he now "met his maker", or at least the one he believed to be his god. and became a part of him as he was consumed within the creatures intestines he gave no consideration to the fact that, just as earlier he had sought refuge in the temple behind the granite bust of Kong, and was spared, he had now turned to his own god for salvation but received no mercy.

The irony of the situation was once again lost on this small-minded man who, even to the last, simply could not spare the time.

Chapter Twenty:

As Kalobi sprinted from the hallway of the temple into another chamber the Raptors followed in hot pursuit. A voice in his head surfaced above the panic he felt.

Head for higher ground, it said, as he remembered they were the last instructions his mentor, Marzubra, had issued him with.

Kalobi began looking up in all directions as he ran. The highest, most accessible point he could see was standing a hundred yards before him: Many steps leading up to a huge altar. He dared not look behind to see how close his pursuers were; for fear that he might stumble over one of the many pieces of debris before him. Besides, he instinctively knew they were close, but if he could make it to the steps of the alter he could then ascend quicker than the reptiles, who would have to stop then leap up a few steps and repeat the process several times.

Over his shoulder he could hear one of the devil beasts cry out. Was it about to leap up at his back and bring him to the ground? Or was it just urging the rest of the pack on?

Kalobi did not wait to find out; the banshee wail was all the encouragement he needed to leap with legs full stretch as soon as he was within reach of the stairway. As he began ascending - at times almost on all fours such was his haste - the question arose in his mind as to just what he was going to do when he got to the top; or for that matter, when the monsters chasing him got to the top.

When he first set eyes on the altar, Kalobi noticed that it had uniform piles of rocks arranged on the top of each corner. Perhaps, he reasoned, they would be useful for ammunition against the Raptors as they ascended the steps below him.

As Kalobi moved within four steps of the top he saw something else up there other that the rock piles; something he never expected to see.

Kong's long slumber was coming to its end, but not naturally, he was so weary that he could have stayed asleep for several more hours still.

But his sleep pattern was being greatly disturbed by not too distant sounds over the past few minutes: The shrieks of distress, animal; the cries of pain; both human and animal. The commotion of something collapsing, something big and nearby; nearby enough and loud enough to momentarily cause his eyelids to flicker open, until the heavy demands of fatigue closed them shut again.

In this state Kong could not differentiate between the dream world that sleep was inducing in his brain, and the noises from the real world that was being acted out all around him while he slept.

Now came a new assault on his senses from the external world that existed only in his sub-conscious mind - a touch, without noise this time, of something light brushing over the hair on his right arm.

Kalobi knew that he had to climb very carefully over the outstretched arm of the sleeping giant, lest he awaken him and cause the massive arm to swing out and shake him off the edge of the towering altar; just like Kalobi would do when irritated by a mosquito that had attached himself to his own forearm.

Having successfully lowered himself down the other side of Kong's arm, Kalobi peeked over the top to await the first of the Raptors to reach the summit and see its reaction upon seeing the giant gorilla sprawled out before him; instead of the lone, defenseless prey it was expecting to find.

Kalobi did not know what look a Velociraptor would give when surprised, but he figured that the way the creature inclined its head was as close to surprise as it could possibly indicate.

That assumption was confirmed when two of its kind following close behind, imitated the first one's sideways glance at Kong the moment they both leapt up to the platform.

"What's the matter, boys, have you lost your appetite?" Kalobi taunted them with the new found courage that a boy pursued by playground bullies finds when behind the legs of a head teacher.

The Raptors shuffled to and fro on their feet; indecisive as to whether or not to leap across the hairy, living wall separating them from their prey. They were equally aware of the potential danger of waking the sleeping giant as Kalobi was.

However, not seeing any way around the obstacle before them, one of them backed up - at first Kalobi thought (and hoped) and that it was in submission - until the creature started forward with pace. He then realised that it was allowing itself room to build enough momentum to leap over Kong's arm.

Kalobi had to act quickly and he knew what he was about to do could just as easily back fire on him. But under the circumstances he had to take the chance. With all his might he launched his right foot into the back of Kong's arm, wincing at the pain he instantly felt in his toes as they connected with the firm biceps. Then he screamed as loud as he could into Kong's ear, "TIME TO WAKE UP!"

Kalobi felt as if he were standing on the edge of a volcano as Kong's mountainous frame began lifting before him; about to explode with anger at being awoken in such an abrupt manner. The first victim of his outrage was the Raptor that had begun his leap, which was caught mid-air by Kong's flailing right arm reacting through reflex at Kalobi's kick.

The reptile was sent flying back down the stairs, bouncing several times until it came to ground in a broken, twisted heap.

Victim number one was more by accident than design, but the four puny, hairless creatures that stood gaping up at Kong were going to feel the deliberate brute force of his anger. He swung a huge mallet of a fist to smash two of his rude awakeners into one of the rock piles atop the altar; sending fragments of rock and reptile limbs cascading everywhere. A third Raptor escaped the force of Kong's swing and turned on a sixpence to head back down the stairs, but was stopped in its tracks by a violent jerk of its tail as Kong leant over and reached down the steps with one of his long arms.

Kong held the Raptor up by its tail, upside down in front of his face for a closer examination; just out of sheer curiosity. But when the struggling creature- like a mere minnow wriggling in the hand of a fisherman-took a swipe and scratched Kong's nose with one of its claws, his interest was over, and he indignantly tossed his catch back over the side of the altar as if it were of no consequence.

Kalobi stared in disbelief at the sheer and utter devastation, akin to an unstoppable tornado that the huge gorilla had unleashed upon the pack of Raptors, who, just moments earlier were about to dismantle his own body just as efficiently and violently, Kalobi was all too aware. The young man was so in awe of the spectacle before him, and almost in a daze at the speed in which his fortunes had so abruptly turned in his favour, that he was unaware of the whereabouts of the remaining Raptor that took a wide course around Kong's blind-side.

Then Kalobi could hear the familiar scraping, scratching sounds of sharp claws running across hard stone and turned just in time to see those claws propel themselves up toward Kalobi's face as he instinctively ducked and heard a deep, pained cry from up above his head, and turned back to see that the Raptor had attached itself to the back of Kong's leg.

When Kong swung around to try to shake off the clinging intruder, Kalobi had to make some sharp moves of his own so as not to be trodden underfoot by the massive ape.

Although he was now in full view of Kong, Kalobi was aware that the gorilla's attention was focused exclusively on ridding himself of the thing causing him pain and irritation on his right leg; the same that was still recovering from being clamped in the giant jaws of the river monster. Kong managed to reach behind and rip the irritant off his wounded limb. Then, holding it firmly round the creature's lower half in the one hand, held it out in front of him, out of reach of its spiteful claws this time, then brought his other hand up to grab the upper half of its body, Kong snapped the beast in two with a sickening crack of its spinal cord, which Kalobi could hear stationed on the floor below Kong's feet. Having dismissed the Raptor in like manner to the others, Kong now turned his attention to the last puny, leggy-looking midget that dared disturb his sleep.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire - if there were an equivalent expression in the colloquialism among the natives of Skull Island, then it must have briskly crossed Kalobi's mind as he stared up in trembling fear at the colossal beast to which he stood at the mercy of.

As he looked down at Kalobi, Kong's brow was creased with deep furrows etched upon it. His hairy eyebrows-like fox furs adorning fashionable ladies shoulders- were slanted down to meet at the bridge of his flat nose, from which he breathed and snorted deeply like the flaring nostrils of an enraged bull.

Kalobi dared not move, both out of the fear which numbed his limbs as if they were glued to the spot on which he was standing, and in case any move on his part might provoke the mighty beast to strike out and crush him just as he had the reptile pack.

Indeed, not a single muscle did Kalobi dare move. Not even his eyes did he avert from those of the giant gorilla, as if to do so would somehow signal his death. He barely even risked a blink, at least not consciously. Kalobi was also neither completely conscious of the vital significance that his action, or rather lack of action, played in saving his life that day. For something in the hypnotic gaze of the little person's eyes stirred the memory of Kong, to a time not long ago, when he dwelt in the tree lair, and something moved him to rescue this stringy little hairless-bodied ape from certain death at the tusks of a chasing herd of swine. Something even further back in his memory bank was triggered. Again, distant memories of his first trip to the giant wall, on which innumerable hairless bodied midgets (akin to the one standing before him) adorned its top edges; all crawling over each other like an army of ants to peer over the precipice at the sight of Kong and his father. One of them, the tiniest one of them, was raised up higher than the others to get a good view. It was this one that Kong (himself an infant at that time) locked eyes with. Wide, brown eyes, full of wonderment. The same eyes that were looking back at him right now. Only this time (although in a taller body) below him, rather than from the top of a wall above him.

The memory of that moment long ago, Kong naturally associated with his father, who took him there. And just as before when he saw the stone image of his father's face he was moved to reach out and touch it, so he did now with the frail little creature that stood at his feet. Kalobi could read the changed disposition of Kong's countenance. His brow unwrinkled, his breathing more relaxed. And so he knew as the giant reached his mighty hand down toward him that he need not fear. Still, the tenderness in the touch of his huge index finger caught Kalobi pleasantly by surprise as it lightly brushed against his upper body.

Kalobi almost felt that he were in a dream such was the tranquility and surrealism of the experience. Then the dream, as dreams often do, changed tempo dramatically to plunge into a nightmare. A nightmare that was heralded by the blood-curdling roar of a giant beast; which for a fraction of a second Kalobi thought was emanating from Kong himself, such was its magnitude and volume. He knew he was mistaken when he saw Kong's surprised reaction also. As the gorilla pulled back his hand in alarm and looked around him to see what was the cause of the terrifying sound.

At least, to a mere human like Kalobi it was terrifying. But to a beast the size of Kong with vocal chords quite capable of matching the volume, it appeared as a curiosity or a challenge even, certainly something that the gorilla did not, like Kalobi, shirk away from. On the contrary, he turned and eagerly bounded down the steps to meet the challenger.

Cautiously Kalobi followed the beast down the steps, checking around and below for the merest hint of one of the devil reptiles; that seemed earlier to be teeming out from behind every wall of the temple. Satisfied that the only ones present were all dead ones, he confidently descended the last few steps.

By now Kong had moved beyond the broken walls that once served as a partition to the furthest chamber, from which another stairway led down to the floor of the jungle outside. Kalobi entered the remains of the room just in time to see Kong stood motionless on all fours at the gateway to the stairs, before another monstrous bellow, louder and closer this time, seemed to urge him away from his sentinel’s stance and down the stairway. Kalobi followed as far as the steps, but took a step back upon the sight before him, framed in the gateway with his back toward him, stood the giant figure of Kong. At a short distance in front of the gorilla, emerging from the dense jungle came another giant. And although further from Kalobi's sight than Kong, this second giant was larger than even Kong himself, as far as he could tell.

Kong instantly recognised the hideous reptile that stood before him: the ugly swelling where there once was an eye, courtesy of his father's sledge hammer fist, the gaping cavernous mouth with its endless rows of teeth, like stalactites overlapping with stalagmites.

These features (added to the creature’s sheer height) identified it as the killer of Kong's father, the same creature that left him for dead. The archenemy of all of Kong’s kind. He felt an instant loathing toward the giant reptile; a feeling born form nature as much as nurture.

The Rex for its part, reliant more on feeling than any long term memory its dim-witted brain could accommodate, only saw the giant gorilla as an obstacle to the killing ground where his powerful sense of smell had led him, and now was eager to partake of its spoils. The bony little biped that it had just swallowed down did little for its appetite other than to whet it, and it was not about to let anything deny it its due. Especially a recent kill (which was more preferable than hunting down live game, especially as it was getting older and slower). If it had to, the Rex would kill the large interloper itself and enjoy a hearty meal of its large body. After all, it had taken on (and beaten- its limited memory seemed to recall) a larger, similar-looking   opponent than the shaggy beast that now stood in its way.

The Rex bellowed out one long, last warning. It still would rather get straight to the ready-made meal that waited beyond the living obstacle, than waste time and energy on bringing down the obstacle itself.

The threatening roar of the T-Rex confirmed everything Kong felt about the lumbering beat as it made heavy strides toward him. It was set on finishing the task it thought it had completed when Kong was still the size of the hairless-bodied one that stood at the top of the stairs behind him.

This time though, Kong was not a scared little monkey. Though not yet the size his father was when he fought the killer reptile, he was big enough. And, through his years of growing up and surviving alone in the jungle, he had learnt a trick or two on how to tackle foes larger than himself.

Kalobi stood alone, frightened spectator. He was in fear for Kong himself, who, despite his awesome display of brute force against the devil reptile claws, appeared no match for this monstrous giant that lumbered toward him with thunderous steps.

Move out of its way, Kalobi thought silently to himself; as if his thoughts could somehow transmit to Kong's mind. For a moment he believed they had, as Kong waited until the last moment then sidestepped as the tyrant lizard lunged its open jaws toward him. The creature's jaws snapped together around fresh air as Kong made his way to the right with purpose. What is he doing? Kalobi wondered, is he fleeing or?

The objective behind Kong's behaviour became apparent as he reached down to the ground with both hands to lift a fallen pillar of stone from the temple ruins. The object must have weighed as much as ten full-grown men, Kalobi estimated, but the giant gorilla held it as if it were just an oar in the hands of a sailor.

The slower moving reptilian giant was literally taken aback as Kong charged at its flank using the pillar like a battering ram. It was all the monster could do to just about stay on its feet and not topple over on its side. Before it could regain its balance Kong seized the initiative of the moment and charged again with the pillar, this time a little lower toward one of its bulky legs. It was enough to make it give way and fall to the ground with an earth-shaking thud.

As the T-Rex struggled to get to its feet Kong threw his makeshift weapon aside and leapt for the creature's back; hoping, no doubt, that the sudden impact of his considerable weight would force the creature's face back into the dust. Kong, however, underestimated the lower body strength of the dinosaur's powerfully built legs and solid tail that acted as a counterbalance to the giant gorilla's added weight on its back. Had it not been for what was at stake and the sheer awe of the titanic battle, Kalobi, standing in safety halfway up the temple stairs, would no doubt have found the sight comical; as the bulky gorilla hung on the back of the T-Rex as it twirled around in circles, like a mount trying to dislodge a rodeo rider from the saddle.

Although Kalobi's position was not altogether dissimilar from an audience sat upon the steps of an ancient roman coliseum, viewing the savage battle of wild animals for entertainment, Kalobi derived no pleasure or amusement from the spectacle taking place not twenty yards before him.

Kalobi's perspective of the battle was more of a reversal of roles in the aforementioned ancient roman's mythology. That is to say, rather than when their gods looked down aloofly from their heavenly thrones upon the affairs and tribulations of mortal men here on the earth, Kalobi felt almost as if he, a mere weak mortal, were in the privileged -almost sacred- position of witnessing something few men, if any, had ever beheld before: an astonishing war between the gods in all their glory.

The sad reality for both of the combatants fighting before the lone spectator was that they were locked in an all-to-mortal combat. Either was equally capable of killing, or dying, at the hands of the other. It would be a tragedy for either one of the magnificent beasts to lose its life, but the wheels had already been set in motion. Only one of them would remain once the duel was over; for neither would permit the existence of the other.

Kalobi's loyalties of cause lay with Kong -rather than the terrible reptile king; who would not think twice about devouring Kalobi, had the creature not been pre-occupied with an unwanted passenger such as Kong on his back.

As Kong clung on desperately to his reptilian mount he tried to work his hands around its jaws in an attempt to prize them apart wide enough to kill the creature. But the Rex, sensing the danger, bit into Kong's fingers causing him to pull them away.

The Rex then began charging toward the steps where Kalobi was standing, until he decided in the best interest of his own welfare to run to the top, as the Rex was clearly intent on ramming his unwelcome rider firmly against the hard stone steps.

This he did by leaning down as he charged, and flipped his back -and Kong- sideways onto the stairway, splintering several of the steps under their combined weight as he did so. The impact and pain caused by the manoeuvre made Kong lose his grip on the scaly monster, which got back to its feet as Kong lay prostrate and winded halfway up the steps. The Rex now had the upper hand and used it immediately by wrapping its jaws around Kong's right leg, which was proving to be his Achilles heel from earlier attacks, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by his latest adversary it seemed.

Having re-opened the previous wound, the monster persisted in gnawing away at the same spot while attempting to drag Kong's body to the ground, where he could be finished off.

The unthinkable was happening right before Kalobi’s eyes. The great Kong was losing the battle and about to lose his life. Just as he had witnessed Baroli do so, as well as his own father, thought Kalobi, as brief visions of both men’s ignominious deaths’ skipped across his mind. “Not this time!” Kalobi said through clenched teeth; as he reached down to pick up a long piece of broken timber. He ran down the steps without a second thought for his own welfare, determined he was not going to stand by helplessly, while a soul whom he greatly cared for died before him once more.

Letting out a primitive call from deep within him, Kalobi rammed the broken end of the wooden beam into the midriff of the T Rex as it pulled at Kong’s leg with its jaws. The wood splintered on impact with the hard reptilian skin. But some of it evidently penetrated, as it drew a trickle of blood. Enough, at least, to surprise the monster so as to force it to let go of Kong’s right leg. Kalobi sought to bide more time for Kong, as his short-sighted and equally short-witted opponent seemed only momentarily distracted by Kalobi’s attack. So he jumped up and down on the steps, waving his arms frantically and yelled at the top of his voice to get the cumbersome beast’s undivided attention. Finally, the giant’s myopic eyes fixed upon the prancing figure, and it seemed set to launch its jaws forward to swallow up the tiny pest, when a huge hairy foot met it’s face full on to send it reeling backward.

Kalobi’s uplifted spirits were short-lived when he saw how Kong gingerly raised himself up and limped up the steps, dragging his right leg behind him as he did so. His mood dropped down a further notch when he turned to see the seemingly indestructible T Rex shake off its blow to the face and start menacingly toward the direction of Kong and Kalobi. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kalobi ran up the steps alongside Kong, urging the wounded giant to move faster. The mismatched pair reached the gateway to the temple at the top of the steps, just as Kalobi could hear the heavy tread of the T Rex as it placed its massive foot upon the first step at the bottom. Inside the walls Kong headed limply toward the altar where he had earlier slept. Kalobi decided not to follow, but reasoned that Kong could use an ally strategically positioned elsewhere. And so he hid himself to the side of the frame of the gateway, which jutted out a yard or so, out of sight of their pursuer. When it eventually made it’s ponderous way to the top, Kalobi nervously hung onto the inside of the wall, which began to shake with the vibrations of the monster’s footsteps upon the stairway, which cracked and crumbled in protest under each tread that carried the seven-ton beast to the top.

There it stood in the archway to the temple, breathing laboriously after its long and potentially dangerous climb. It’s plodding, reptilian feet were not cut out to negotiate the crumbling steps of an old ruin as well as Kong’s were. Kalobi wondered why it risked such a perilous climb, as he fought to control his own nervous breathing, lest the beast might detect his presence. The answer was forthcoming as the brute lifted its head to sniff first the air, then the floor in front of it, where a small pool of blood had formed. Crimson puddles continued across the floor and led to the steps of the altar, where Kong was now making his slow ascent, both Kalobi and the Rex were led to observe. The beast was primarily led by instinct; on the trail of its wounded prey. But perhaps there was something more driving it on. After all, there were carcasses aplenty strewn around for it to feast upon; several Velociraptors, as well as that of a human, in the shape of Baroli.

Perhaps now the hunt had also developed into an opportunity to achieve something more significant; an opportunity that was not taken many years earlier, but had now presented itself for a second, and probably, final time: for the Rex to rid itself of its arch-rival once and for all. As well as enjoying the bounty of Kong’s large carcass to consummate the deed. As Kong scaled the remaining few steps of the altar on all fours, before disappearing from sight over the top, Kalobi wondered if the ape were surrendering the fight, or cunningly luring the giant reptile up to follow him. Either way, the dinosaur began its cautious ascent for a second time. Kalobi grabbed another makeshift weapon from a pile of broken wood, and quietly followed at a safe distance, careful to avoid the falling stones that came loose under the monster’s feet as it climbed, as well as its unpredictably swishing tail, which could have rendered him unconscious with a single swipe.

When the Rex eventually planted both its feet firmly at the top of the altar, it once more came to a standstill. What was it waiting for? Kalobi wondered. Then it moved forward until all but its elongated tail were out of sight, forcing Kalobi to sprint up the rest of the stairs to see what was happening. The morbid thought briefly crossed his mind that Kong may already be dead, just lying there waiting for the monster to-

But as Kalobi got closer to the top, all he could see standing there was a bemused Tyrannosaur, with his back to him, seemingly wondering, as Kalobi was, where was Kong?  Then, from his right, Kalobi could hear something moving along the side of the altar. He looked over to investigate and was amazed to see ten dark, huge fingers working their way along the narrow ridge, a couple of feet from the top, encircling the altar. Kalobi looked back at the T Rex, which was looking over the precipice over on the furthest side, where it dropped not just to the first floor of the temple, but beyond the outer wall to the jungle floor, some forty feet further below. Perhaps it was thinking that its nemesis had climbed down and escaped into the jungle.

Kalobi then turned toward the steps, which were suddenly filled by Kong’s massive frame as he swung around from the ledge onto his feet, ready to face his pursuer, who was now the one being pursued. Kong began beating his mighty chest and let out a fierce cry of defiance. His enemy turned its head to face him, but too late. Kalobi stepped aside as Kong rushed forward with the force of a passing high-speed locomotive, his arms swinging wildly up and down like the pistons of a steam engine, smashing into the dinosaur full throttle. The sheer impact visibly lifted the Rex off of its feet and into the air, far enough to fully clear the wall twenty feet below, and continuing down over double that height, to crash onto the foundation rocks jutting out below, before coming to rest in the long grass, its head askew at a macabre angle. Its broken teeth, which had bathed in the blood of numerous kills, now stood like ineffectual flood gates against the tide of its own blood, which poured out in between them to form a dark red pool around its head.

Kong looked down at his vanquished foe. Kalobi came and stood beside him to look with him. Kalobi then looked up at the face of the giant gorilla. Unlike a human face- which could be read- Kong’s expression gave away no reaction to the sight of his sworn enemy lying dead at his hands. No triumph. No joy. No relief. –Revenge for his father’s death? –Surely that was a concept reserved only for the petty minds of a species more “sophisticated” than this dumb brute, which acted purely upon instinct; to kill, or be killed. The survival of the fittest. For that was the unwritten law of the jungle.

Chapter 21

It soon became apparent why there was no victorious, celebratory beating of the chest by Kong. For as soon as he was reassured that there was no breath of life remaining in the fallen T Rex, he flopped down in an exhausted heap upon the altar, as he had done before his battles with the carnivorous dinosaurs. Mere seconds pass before the all-conquering gladiator fell into a deep sleep, such was the extent of his fatigue. Kalobi took the opportunity to examine the wound on Kong’s right leg. It was a deep gash, still bleeding. Kalobi wished he had something to stem the flow of blood. But he knew that there was nothing that he possessed or anything on the altar that would act as a dressing large enough to wrap around Kong’s sizeable leg.

He turned to the stairs and began to walk down them, hoping he could find something useful among the scattered ruins of the temple. No sooner had he reached the bottom of the stairway than he heard a crunching of gravel, as if being trod upon by someone-or something! His first thought was that of the Raptors. One of the devil-lizards must have survived, or more have come back! Picking up a large stone, Kalobi backed up the stairs as quietly as he could. All the time, looking over the edge to see, if he could, what had made the sound. Again, the same noise, from behind the wall. Surely another tread. Then silence. The somebody/ something, was trying, like Kalobi was, not to give their presence away, but not altogether successfully. Something began to appear from behind a break in the wall. A dark, slim, horizontal shape, rounded at the end, about three feet from the ground, slowly edged its way forward. -The tail of a devil-lizard? Suddenly, in a blur, a whole body followed the object from behind, out into the open. Kalobi hurled the stone in its direction and took to flight up the steps, before he could see what it was. “Good shot”, he heard a voice call from below. He turned and saw Marzubra standing by the gap in the wall, with a wooden club at his feet.

“Marzubra”, Kalobi cried out in disbelief, “How can you…? What did…?”

Marzubra interrupted Kalobi’s unfinished and unstructured questions by answering: “I promise to tell you my story, if you first explain to me just what has happened here.”

Like a father reunited with a long-lost son, Marzubra and Kalobi embraced joyously. Then, as they sat down on the stairs, they excitedly swopped stories as to how they’d both manage to survive their respective ordeals. Kalobi, as both men agreed, gave his account first. After hearing Kalobi recount his versions of events as best as he could remember, Marzubra was suitably impressed, not to mention, dumbfounded. However, before Marzubra could digest the full import of the tale, Kalobi begged him to tell Marzubra’s account of what transpired while the two friends were parted. Marzubra obliged by first beckoning him halfway up the stairs, before pointing to the remains of the outer wall of the hallway that they had all entered as a group together, earlier on.

“You see that stretch of wall over there?” he asked Kalobi. The younger man acknowledged with a nod of his head.

“That is where the devil beasts had me trapped, or so they thought.  Sadly, one of them caught Shilamnu, but not before he forced the creature over the wall with him, to face certain death together. Another started to climb the side of the broken wall, whilst another patrolled the other end, to block my escape; although it was too steep for the beast to get up itself. In front of the wall, snapping at my heals, were two more of the creatures. So they had me surrounded on three sides. But the only remaining route free of the demons was behind me. But that only presented the same perilous drop where Shilamnu met his end. However, a few steps further on, I noticed one of the trees from the surrounding jungle was overhanging closer to the wall than any of the others. But it was not within my grasp as I stood on the wall, so it meant I would have to jump. If I were to miss, it meant that I, too, would be joining Shilamnu on the rocks below. But with one of the creatures now on the wall with me, I had no choice. And so I hurled my body into the open air with all my strength left remaining in me. One of my hands just managed to grab a hold on a branch, that snapped as I grabbed it, but it slowed my fall enough to get a firm hold on a thicker branch underneath. I stayed in that tree as long as those devils waited for me. Then something else seemed to gain their attention, and they left. But I still waited up there, high in the safety of those branches, where I knew they could not reach me, until l I felt that it was safe to come down. I then heard the sounds of the battle that you just told me about, so I thought it would be a good time for me to get away. But first I had to see if anyone else had survived…and there you were.”

Kalobi was so caught up in Marzubra’s story that it only just dawned on him that, before they ran into each other, he was looking for something to help Kong with his injury. He grabbed hold of Marzubra’s arm and urged him to follow him to the top of the altar. Marzubra was taken aback at the sight of the fallen giant. But Kalobi reassured him with a beckoning hand toward Kong’s wounded right calf, which had now ceased bleeding.

“Will he survive this injury?” Kalobi enquired earnestly of his knowledgeable senior.

Marzubra put his hand reassuringly upon Kalobi’s shoulder. “He has survived so far without our help. Or, it seems, anyone else’s help. We should just let him rest. It is nature’s way. –Aside from that, I do not think it would be wise for us to try and bandage such a mighty one as Kong, and risk disturbing his sleep, especially at such a dangerous height as this. Otherwise, we could end up as those devil-lizards did when they awoke him, as you recalled to me so vividly. In the meantime, we will wait. If he recovers well, we shall return tom the village and tell the people that Kong still lives, and is still the king of all beasts in our land”.

“As for now,” Marzubra broke into a smile,”I don’t know about you, my young friend, but all this excitement has made me hungry. Let us build a fire and cook up the flesh of one of those scaly devils that tried to have us for their supper.”

When it is a clear night on Skull Island it allows a crystal clear view of celestial consternations that even the most seasoned star- gazers, scattered around the globe, would be unfamiliar with. It was on such a night that Kalobi and Marzubra sat on the foot of the stairs to the altar where Kong slept. Their stomachs full and satisfied from the Raptor’s flesh that they had roasted over the dwindling fire at their feet.

“This reminds me of the many nights in the village,” said Kalobi, “When I and my family sat around the fire, listening to your stories of our ancestors of long ago.”

“Those were the good times, Kalobi.  And I remember you too, as a young one, sat upon your mother’s knee, lapping up every word I spoke just as a great cat laps up water from a stream.”

“The pictures that we saw on the temple wall, - I do not remember you recounting the story that they seemed to be telling.  At least, not all of it. What happened?” Kalobi asked.

“You are right, Kalobi. I suppose stories change over the stream of time. Like a broken branch that falls into a stream. It gets buffeted around against stones and rocks on its journey, until it ends up broken and twisted, with few of its leaves intact by the time it comes to rest.”

“But your stories never mentioned what the wall story told; how so many people were slain by such monsters as we fought with today.”

“Most people would prefer to remember only the good times. They want to forget the bad things that happened to them, and so do not speak about them. So, in time, it is only the good that is told to their children, who, when they have children of their own, tell them only of the good things from their parents’ past. Eventually, the bad has been erased from their history altogether.”

Kalobi thought about Marzubra’s words for a moment, and then said “Perhaps the people that were killed in the story on the wall were not our ancestors. Maybe they were a different tribe than we who live beyond the great wall.”

“I do not think so. Remember much of the story drawn upon that wall is the same as my grandfather told me. –How there was a time, somewhere in the jungle, when our people and the Kong dwelt together side-by-side, living in perfect harmony as families. As the pictures we saw showed, the Kong would bring their entire families to this temple and eat the offerings that the people presented to them. Just as when you were a little child, our people gave offerings at the altar outside the great wall, to the father of this Kong, who lies asleep above us.”

“But all the people were killed here,” Kalobi objected, “So nobody could tell our ancestors what happened here. That is why our people did not know about the massacre that occurred in this temple so long ago.”

“You are forgetting one thing, Kalobi; at least one person must have survived the attack by the devil-reptiles to be able to carve upon the wall the portrayal of the attack itself. It is probable that others also survived, and instead of staying here where it would continue to be unsafe against such beasts, those survivors fled as far as they could through the jungle to arrive at the furthest side of the island, where our people live now. They were our ancestors, the people that built this place. The people that lived here, then left to start up a new life elsewhere. These are the same people who built our great wall to stop such a calamity ever occurring again.”

Kalobi fell silent again as Marzubra’s interpretation of events stirred within his mind. Eventually, he asked, “But what became of the Kongs? –The devil-lizards are no match for them, as today has proven.”

“You are right, Kalobi.-I doubt that such creatures could have seriously threatened the mighty Kongs, even if they could have picked off one of the young every now and then, if one happened to carelessly  stray from the  family group. But as we have seen, the Kongs have larger enemies than the devil-lizards to contend with. Perhaps, over the many years, their battles have taken their toll on the Kongs. Certainly, their numbers have gone down since the time when the people here recorded their unity as families together. As the Kongs grew less in number, the devil-lizards became bolder, as there were fewer Kong here to protect the people. Eventually, no doubt when the Kong were preoccupied elsewhere; upon their own mountain, perhaps, the devil-lizards took the opportunity to find a way in and invade the temple. This probably occurred over a period of time; a raid here and there, gradually picking people off and weakening the defences of the temple walls, until the few people left were forced to abandon it altogether.”

Marzubra stoked up the fire with a nearby stick allowing Kalobi time to mull over and digest what he had just told him before summing it all up with a cautionary note. Turning to look straight at Kalobi, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames of the rejuvenated fire Marzubra earnestly continued “That is why our people have long enjoyed good relations with Kong alone and not with the reptile giants as Elkana and Zarubok would have us all do.  Kong is of us.  Or to put it more correctly: we are of Kong.  We are alike, we have a sharing, a bond.  We have no such sharing with the reptile kind. They hate us as they hate Kong. They would destroy us as they nearly have Kong.  To form any alliance with their kind as Elkana and Zarubok have done and try to persuade all the people to do is unnatural, unholy and can only end in our ruin.  Just as it ended here for our ancestors so shall our village become if we allow Elkana and Zarubok to win our people over to the worship of the great tooth reptile and its kind.  We need the presence of Kong to be with us to protect us from such horrors as he did for you.  That is why at all cost we must return to our people with a positive report of Kong’s wellbeing.  For in Kong’s wellbeing lies our wellbeing, that of our families and that of our people.  It is Kong alone we must worship”.

Neither man spoke any more that night.  Kalobi spent his time just staring deeply into the fire. Images of demonic lizards and giant monsters conjured up in his mind in the dancing flames before him.  Gradually, as the dying embers slowly flickered out, Kalobi’s eyelids flickered in unison with them until both succumbed to inactivity and darkness.

High above the jungle floor the three strange bedfellows slept within the crumbling walls of the temple, the noises of their snoring eclipsed by the sound of the jungle’s nightlife all around them.

For the jungle never sleeps.

Chapter 22

For several more nights and days Kong lay asleep on top of the fast altar.  The longevity of his inactivity began to concern Marzubra who despite his earlier reluctance to intervene with the course of nature embarked upon a campaign to at least strengthen the ailing giant by bringing him food to aid his recovery.  Not straying far from the confines on the temple wall, Marzubra and Kalobi ventured into the surrounding jungle to find and bring back what they could to feed the incapacitated gorilla.  Together they dragged large sheets of bamboo; a particular favourite of the gorilla kind, up the steps to the temple and then further up to the top of the altar where the beast lay.  At first the weary Kong only cast an apathetic eye at the vegetation placed before him and returned to his sleep.  Over the course of time however, he wearily propped himself up into a sitting position and began partaking of his favourite dish with increased gusto.  Gradually, the giant gorilla’s strength returned sufficiently enough for him to amble down the two sets of stairs leading outside to the jungle where he started pulling up various delicacies for himself.  Kalobi and Marzubra followed behind him at a respectful distance and when they found him in a clearing, sat unearthing large clusters of bamboo sticks and eagerly feeding them into his mouth, they turned to each other and smiled.

“Our task here is complete” uttered Marzubra.

Then Kong suddenly left off from his feeding frenzy, turned and marched effortlessly away from the two men deep into the jungle.

“Where is he going?” queried Kalobi.

“Home” replied Marzubra.

“The time has come for him to return to his home just as we must return to ours.”

With each step Kong’s memory was jogged further, he was entering familiar territory now.  Then from a distance behind the trees he could make out the unmistakeable and unforgettable features of the skull shaped mountain high up in the swirling clouds. He was indeed, as Marzubra had earlier stated: returning home. Even for a creature with a stride and climbing abilities as those possessed by Kong, the journey from the foot of the mountain to the top was a slow, arduous ascent. In time he reached a high opening to a cave entering at the rear of Skull Mountain, meandered in, and the familiarity of the place swept over him in waves, until he came to a stop at the remains of a colossal rib-cage. Resting nearby is a skull no doubt belonging to the same creature.   Kong instinctively brushes his hairy knuckles against the ivory giant’s brow almost in recognition that before him lay the remains of the empty shell that was once his own mother.  The one who used to nurse him here inside this very cave.  This touching scene, had it been witnessed by human eyes, no doubt would prompt in the beholders mind an elephants grave-yard being visited by family members probing and touching the skeletal remains with their remarkably dexterous trunks.  The cave opened out into a wider chamber which was lit up partially by a massive opening to the outside world:  It was the mouth of Skull Mountain.  Kong continued through until he came out the other side of the opening.  If Kong had any remaining memories of the scene before him as he emerged from the tunnel then surely they would have been shattered into oblivion, because no memory could have prepared him for the magnificent view that the vantage point that the lip of Skull Mountain offered: a panoramic vista that scanned the entire mid and southern parts of the island, out to the great Southern Ocean stretching for thousands of miles without land elsewhere in sight, up to the horizon beyond with only the azure heavens above as an all-encompassing canopy.  White sea-birds - appearing as windblown specks of snow from such a distance- could be seen around the perimeter of the island, as they dodged huge sea waves as they came crashing into the craggy rock shore.  The tops of the tallest trees could be seen swaying above their disadvantaged neighbours like giants among a vast crowd of spectators at an open air concert.  The lush green of the island’s vegetation was observable here in all its glory: adorning the island from one side clear across to the other side on all corners; even covering many of the mountain tops themselves like a living, spreading, all embracing organism.

Stationed on all fours - as still as a stone gargoyle atop a gothic cathedral - Kong’s senses assimilated his breath-taking surroundings.  They filled him with a sense of power, and of majesty, as if he was positioned like a king upon his throne.  He was master of all that he surveyed.   He now stood like a sovereign ruler milking the applause of his adoring masses, before taking in a deep breath to let out an almighty roar of triumph, energetically pounding his barrel of a chest with his mighty fists as he did so.  Kong was announcing his return emphatically to the denizens within his kingdom; Kong is back home, the King has returned.

Even from beyond the other side of the temple as Kalobi and Marzubra made their way to cross back over the ravine, the two men could hear the triumphal cries of Kong’s roars as they echoed down from the mountain. The awe-inspiring sound stopped them in their tracks, and Marzubra turned to Kalobi before they stepped up onto the fallen log bridge, and announced;

“There is a new King, and he is sending us on our way with the message.”

Chapter 23

“It has been long enough” announced Elkana as he stood upon the wooden podium facing the crowds, Zarubok stood just off behind him like his permanent shadow.

“Surely it is clear to all that neither Marzubra or Yasomi or Baroli nor any of the others who we sent beyond the great wall are coming back. Therefore, we can assume that the jungle has claimed them and that none of them will be bringing back any evidence of Kong’s existence.”

Kalobi’s mother, standing towards the back of the large crowd, hung her head in sorrow. “Such being the case,” Elkana continued in a commanding voice “it behoves me to announce that from this moment on, Kong will no longer be recognised as a god of this island as he no longer exists.”

There was a loud, disgruntled murmuring among the throngs of people at this announcement.

“Furthermore,” the authoritative voice continued to boom out “there will be no toleration of any form of worship towards Kong in any way, because such worship would be futile!  Instead, all who wish to remain within the safety of the great wall, and within our village, must denounce Kong as their god if they wish to remain here and enjoy the protection and the blessings of our new King and deity: the great tooth reptile, whose name is Racchu.  Anyone defying this proclamation will be banished from our village and sent outside the great wall where they, too, may seek their lifeless god and become, in a short time, just like him!”

“By whose authority do you state such things?” a dissenting voice rose higher above the many others. Joined by another, “what of the rest of the elders, what do they have to say?”

Elkana looked smugly and not a little condescendingly down at the group of tribal elders stood subserviently in front of the platform, their heads and shoulders hung sheepishly low.

“My fellow elders and I have come to this decision in one accord, my people.  We have done so with everyone’s best interest at heart, for we cannot live as a divided people; the majority reaching forward whilst a stubborn minority cling to what is of no value and therefore act like a weighty burden to us all, slowing down our progress under the light of a new deity in whose authority we should all acknowledge if we are to receive the full blessings”

Another voice from the crowd, older and less virile than the others who spoke before him, but respected by most, nevertheless spoke:

“But Elkana”, the elderly one said, “our people have lived in peace this way for some years now: each respecting one another’s right to worship the god of their choice, whether that be Kong, the god of our ancestors or this new god Racchu, whom you and Zarubok have zealously put before us. Surely you do not want things the way there were before: the hatred, intolerance, bloodshed of brother against brother. Surely peaceful tolerance of each one and his beliefs is better than force, which can only lead to further bloodshed”

The audible approval and nodding heads of many in the crowd confirmed the reasonableness of the old man’s words. But a deft nod of Elkana’s head to a warrior standing on the edge of the crowd signalled that he needed to be silenced.

“Shut up, old man,” came a gruff voice, “You do not know what you are talking about” the warrior shouted as he clubbed the man across the back of his skull with the butt of his spear.  That was the spark that lit the fuse: an indignant by-slander went to grasp the weapon from the warrior’s hand. As they wrestled with it two more armed men moved in from the perimeter of the crowd and started beating the interloper mercilessly to his knees.  Sheer pandemonium then broke out among the throngs of congregated people as more and more armed warriors cut inroads among them, to divide those whom they believe to be dissidents away from the rest of the people.  Screams and angry protest filled the air as all the while Elkana tried to be heard above it all:

“All those who are for Racchu, come, stand here with us. All those who are not: go to the gates and they shall be opened to you” he gestured to a few of his cohorts to stand by the long bolts of the gates in readiness.  Those who fought against Elkana’s men were forcibly dragged and thrown to the area of the giant gateway, separated from their sobbing wives and frightened children.  Some of the women ran over to join their husbands, despite knowing that they were thus sentencing themselves and their children also to a life of hardship and danger beyond the security of the great wall.  Others remained where they stood; confused and torn between being by their husband’s sides and the welfare of their little ones, some of whom were suckling babies.  When Elkana was satisfied that all the rebels were rounded up he gave the word to release the bolts of the doors and to crank them open.  They were no more than six feet apart- and still opening- as dozens of Kong’s devotees were shoved through the gap at spear point.  Some even tried to run back in but were met with overwhelming resistance: either hurled back out or killed right there on the spot as a warning to others who were foolhardy enough to try and do the same.  The relatives of the exiles- now the other side of the wall- reached out with outstretched hands and fingers, wide eyed with shock and disbelief. But they were held back by a cordon of armed warriors linking their spears together as a barrier against them.  When the last one of the outcasts disappeared behind the rapidly closing gates- his hand almost taken off in-between them before they slammed shut together, - Elkana turned to Zarubok and said “you know what to do”.  Elkana now stepped back to allow the shaman centre stage.  He took it with full aplomb, standing with legs and arms thrust apart. Zarubok then threw back his heavily decorated head toward the heavens and announced:

“The great Racchu, we have delivered unto you your enemies.  The one that you have vanquished: the devil god Kong.  We have sacrificed them to you, O great one of the reptiles. We pray our offering is pleasing in your eyes, O Lord. Do with them as they deserve, and look with favour upon your loyal ones, O Racchu”.

Zarubok then dramatically dropped his head down almost onto his chest, eyes facing forward with a stern expression, before proclaiming:

“Now we must rid our village of every remaining vestige of that which would offend our god.  Clear the homes of the Kong worshippers, take all that is of value and place it at my feet that I may offer it to Racchu. As for the rest of it; their beds, their homes, burn them to the ground until nothing exists except the ashes.  Racchu has thus spoken.  So it must be done”.

The families of the outcasts cried out in indignation and outrage at this final injustice, not only had they lost family members but now despite their compromise, despite their innocence, they were forced to stand by enduring the sight of their homes disappearing in flames.  Now they stood just as homeless as their relatives the other side of the great wall. Some began to wonder now whether they were any better off, and began to sink to their knees in tears.  Shilamnu stepped down from the platform behind the gathered elders, placed his arms around the shoulders of two of them reassuringly, and said:

“It is for the best, my brothers, you will see in time.  Soon any in doubt will forget this foolish notion of believing in Kong’s existence.  He is dead.  And we have lost some of our finest men- Marzubra, Yasomi and Baroli- in a fruitless quest just to prove that.  How many more would we lose if we allow any voices in our midst to raise further doubts; causing division among us and lose the blessings of the true god of this land?”

None of the other elders answered. They were all too busy trying to give acceptable answers to their own unspoken consciences, as they watched the huts that were torched burn and disintegrate into ashes upon the earth, while the flames of the conflagration leapt high into the darkening skies; carrying their sins clear up to the heavens to the true god and judge of all human hearts.

CHAPTER 24

Visibility within the jungle was becoming dimmer than usual as the sun began to sink to the watery horizon that circles Skull Island.  It was dangerous enough to travel through this untamed world even in the daylight that the constant cloud as well as the omnipresent tree canopy allowed to filter down to the ground.  At night, or course, the dangers are magnified many fold.  One of the greatest being that of becoming completely lost inside, that is what Marzubra feared as he and Kalobi quickened their pace through the protruding roots and vegetation under foot, desperate to get back to the safety of the great wall before darkness closed in upon them completely.  Marzubra began to be plagued by inner doubts of his own judgement (normally a reliable constant in his life) as he found it increasingly difficult to see more than a few paces in front of him.  Should they have stopped for the night up in a giant tree that Kong used temporarily as his home?  At least there they would have been safe.  But here with all manner of hidden dangers all around they were at a great disadvantage against predators that could hunt in the dark.  Whilst he and Kalobi would be running blind if one should decide to attack and with nowhere to run to.  Marzubra could hear his young companion following close behind (and so could any predator, he feared).  He felt deep admiration for the boy’s uncomplaining loyalty and trust towards him, but that only led to further self-deprivation on Marzubra’s part: that he was the one responsible for such a fine young man and that he could end up also responsible for his death, destroying so much potential, so much promise at such a young age.  Before Marzubra’s spirits could plunge as dark as the fading light around them, Kalobi’s voice called out like a reassuring fog-horn sounding out through a misty sea.

“I see it. Up ahead, I can see the wall!” Blessed be young eyes, Marzubra grinned to himself, although his weary eyesight failed to let him see it for himself it was his turn to trust the younger man’s judgement which he was deeply relieved to be able to do.  As the two weary travellers trod their last adrenaline fuelled steps together into the clearing, shoulder to shoulder like racers crossing the finishing line in joint triumph, their smiles and laughter were quickly erased.  There was something wrong, they sensed.  Something very wrong!

A fire burned brightly upon the high altar.  There were people gathered around it.  Below, at the foot of the steps to the altar there were more people, young and old, gathered around a smaller fire. At first glance both returnees thought the people were on vigil to welcome their return but the cheerless, nonplussed expressions worn by the people on catching site of Marzubra and Kalobi told them otherwise.  Marzubra took tentative steps towards the camp fire to make sure the people could recognise him whilst Kalobi reluctantly followed behind, but it did nothing to change the mood of the gathering. Kalobi first set his attention on the women with their children but he could not see his own mother among them and he did not know whether he should feel concerned or relieved over her absence from such a sorrowful crowd.  Finally, somebody spoke.  The elderly man who was the first to be silenced for questioning Elkana’s demands.

“I know I speak for us all here, Marzubra and Kalobi,” he looked at each man as he spoke their names;

“Although our faces may tell you otherwise, we are happy to see you both; however, your returning does not bring with it the joy and celebration it deserves because you have returned at a time of great turmoil among our people”.

“Elkana…!”

Marzubra at once identified the cause of such turmoil without disguising the anger from his voice.

“You are right, my brother, as always” the aged man continued his tale of woe. “After you and the others were gone for several days, Elkana took it upon himself and persuaded your fellow elders likewise to cast out anybody who still clung to their cherished beliefs in Kong. That is why we people stand before you outside the safety of these walls” He gestured upward and behind him.

From amidst the encircling crowd, made larger by those at the top of the steps, coming down to join them, another voice spoke up.

“Perhaps now that Marzubra is here the other elders will listen to his voice of reason and have mercy on us”

The old man answered before Marzubra could reply

“I am afraid Elkana will not listen to any voice no matter how reasonable.  As for the rest of the elders, he and Zarubok have them under their spell.  They will not listen to those who speak of Kong.  I doubt they would listen even to Kong himself if he spoke”

Someone interrupted from the stairs,

“What of Kong, Marzubra, did you find him?”

“Yes” Marzubra replied without apparent interest in the question.  Then added, as he raised his head, to face the one who had asked it:

“We have seen Kong, and what is more, my brothers, so shall you and so will all those beyond the wall who doubt him.  Furthermore, Kong will speak to them and they will listen to his voice.”

He then turned to Kalobi who had remained silent throughout by his side. “But first, we must get back inside the wall and for that, Kalobi, we need your help”.

“I’m sure it is around here somewhere,” said Kalobi, as he squatted alongside the great wall. “But it’s difficult to find it in the dark. Besides, it has been a long time since I used it. It may even have been repaired since then.”

Marzubra moved in closer with his flaming torch so that both of them could see better.

“I remember your mother and father coming to me when you were but a little twig of a boy. –How distressed they were when you went missing. It seemed like the whole village was searching for you. Then all of a sudden, there you appeared standing by the wall, a look of innocence and confusion etched upon your face, as if to say “What is all this commotion about?”

“I had to step in to protect you from getting a beating by your parents, when you explained to them that you had just been exploring the other side of the wall. And yes, we did repair the gap that you were small enough to squeeze through. But, if my memory serves me right, you went and re-opened it several times, and, I might add, several beatings afterward.”

“Hmm, yes,” Kalobi acknowledged, somewhat embarrassed, as he continued feeling his way along the lower part of the wall for any signs of an opening, an irregularity, or a give under his fingertips. Suddenly, as if a searchlight was switched on for his benefit, dappled moonlight shone against the surface of the wall as the moon began its slow ascent along the rim of the tree tops behind them, exposing all the nooks and crannies of the great wall before them.

“Kong is with us,” grinned Marzubra, as he looked over his shoulder at the rising full moon. Despite the odd cloud cutting out the assisting moonlight from time to time, Kalobi was able to find what he was looking for. At first appearing as just a thin crack in the wall about four feet from the ground upward, after he pulled with both hands, a thin layer pulled away to reveal a narrow, but deep vertical gorge. Marzubra helped him pull away the outer crust so that Kalobi could squeeze into the gap. After a little exerted contortion of his body, the teenager managed to push his lithe body further into the hole.

“It was much easier when I was a boy,” Marzubra could hear Kalobi’s muffled observation, as he all but disappeared from sight. Inside, Kalobi gradually left the flickering light, provided by Marzubra’s fiery torch, behind him, as the darkness swallowed him up. He had to rely purely on touch now. But it wasn’t long before he could feel the back of the far wall. He pushed, gently at first, so as not to cause undue attention to anyone who might be close by the other side. When nothing gave, he shoved with both hands. There was slight movement under his fingertips, but not enough. He could not risk a shove with his shoulder, as it would create too much noise if he broke through that way. So he pulled out his blade from its holder and starting chipping away as quietly as he could. In time, he had made a small hole to see through. He could just make out the shapes of a couple of huts close by, but thankfully, no movement around them.

The coast was clear.

CHAPTER 25

It took a lot of anxious time, patience, and exertion, to create an opening, and tunnel, wide enough to get the fifty or so people, of various ages, shapes, and sizes, safely and silently through to the other side without being detected. But thankfully, the lunar light that aided their passage from the outside was starkly absent when they stepped through to the other side of the wall, which was enshrouded in deep shadow. All the same, as each man, woman, and child; with some carrying the very young close to their chests, exited from the other side of the wall, they were ushered by Marzubra and Kalobi close to the wall in single file, so as to remain in the shadows.

On several occasions they heard the murmurs of conversation and intermittent laughter close by, and every now and then, a glimpse of someone walking in between the huts. Those were the most anxious moments; when everybody that had emerged from the wall had to become living statues, suppressing any natural urges that they may have had to cough or sneeze, as well as put a gentle hand over the mouths of the infants within their care, until the danger passed them by. When, eventually, everyone was accounted for, Marzubra and Kalobi led their mixed entourage close-by the wall, passing the shelter of the huts, into the more exposed area that surrounded the giant gates. Fortunately, because of the late hour, nobody was around. Even the watchmen, who Elkana had posted at the top of the wall, alongside the gates, had long retired for the night; bored of watching the dejected exiles huddled around the fire besides the altar outside. So the peoples’ activities around the gates went unchallenged, as they silently went about their various assignments with military precision, after being well drilled by Marzubra earlier on.

Kalobi led some men up a rope ladder alongside the left of the gates, to the highest platform that overlooked the wall. Another group climbed parallel to them on the right hand side. When both parties had reached the top, they each stationed themselves alongside one of the many large drums that permanently stood there. On the ground, too, women, and older children, stood by the drums positioned near the gates. The remaining menfolk stood in a semi-circle in front of the gates, weapons at the ready, whilst Marzubra lit a series of fires several yards in front of them to form a flaming barrier. Marzubra raised a spear upward to Kalobi and the others atop of the wall, to which each of them set alight the torches that were erected upon the parapet. Then, like a conductor wielding his baton before the waiting orchestra, Marzubra lifted the spear high above his head, then pushed the butt end of it down into the dust; once, twice, three times vigorously. With that, each person that is stationed by a drum lifted a club in their hands and began to pound in rhythm with Marzubra’s thrusts.  He then put his spear to one side, cupped his hands around his mouth, and bellowed “Kong! Kong!” The ragamuffin orchestra respond likewise whilst the drums continued their rhythmic beat, all the while Marzubra urging them on with rotating forearms dancing high above his head.

Almost on cue, the moon rose above the towering wall as if to spotlight the proceedings; as in stark contrast to their clandestine entry back into the village, the Kong worshippers are now centre stage to the awakening villagers, visually, and most certainly, audibly. One by one, curious onlookers that had been disturbed from their sleep emerged from their homes. Then through the centre of the growing audience strode Elkana, shadowed, as ever, by Zarubok, as the masses part like the Red Sea before them, followed by the other tribal elders, to confront the revelry. Marzubra stepped forward behind one of the fires that he had earlier lit, so that he could be clearly recognised. He then raised his voice to be heard above the sounds of the drums and the chanting behind him.

“My brothers, it is I, Marzubra. I have returned. Kalobi and I have seen Kong. He has granted us- and these people who Elkana saw fit to exile- safe passage back inside the safety of these walls.”

Zarubok stepped alongside Elkana, as the two men exchanged astonished glances at each other. The crowds behind them began to murmur in wonder. Then one of the elders shouted out:

“It is a miracle! Kong has shown us the error of our casting our brothers outside, and he has used his magic to return them.”

The man bent down on one knee, his head hung low. Then he looked heavenward, stood up, and shouted to the stars above:

“Forgive us, Mighty Kong, for ever doubting you. And for the evil we inflicted upon our brothers.”

“Praise be Kong,” uttered one of the elders by his side. Other voices from behind echoed his words.

“NO!” Elkana loudly and sharply protested. “This is a trick! Evil magic is at work here. This is not Marzubra stood before you at all. He died in the jungle alongside Kalobi and the others.”

“It is a demon! They are all demons! How else could they have got inside our walls?”

Great confusion began to break out and spread like a virus throughout the entire village assembled before the gates. All the while, the chanting of Kong’s name and the beating of the drums carried around the walls, and into the night air of the jungle beyond. Another one of the elders prostrated himself toward Marzubra, muttering words to the effect that Kong had brought him and the others back from the dead, after they had been eaten up by the beasts of the jungle. When Elkana turned to see a row of people standing behind the elder, follow his example, he became agitated, kicking the prostrate elder sharply in the ribs and saying:

“Get up, you fool! This is all just a trick, I tell you. Stand up! If we are not swayed by this deceit, neither will the people be. Give me your spear” he motioned to a nearby warrior. Grabbing the weapon out of his hand, he then marched purposefully toward Marzubra, who, for a fraction of a second, had turned his back to encourage the chanters and the drummers not to let up. Kalobi, viewing Marzubra, and responding to his rallying call from high upon the wall, suddenly noticed Elkana’s burly figure stride in-between two of the fires with a raised spear, and screamed out:

“MARZUBRA, BEHIND YOU!”

Marzubra turned only to see the point of Elkana’s spear in a flash, before it embedded itself into his chest. There were gasps, and then silence, as Marzubra fell forward onto his knees. Kalobi abandoned his post and scrambled down the ladder as swiftly as he could to reach his stricken friend, who, by the time Kalobi had reached him, was supporting himself on one arm as he knelt, using the other hand to pull out the offending spear. Kalobi got down on his knees beside him to aid him with the blood-soaked spear; which Kalobi tossed to the ground in disdain. He then turned his attention back to Marzubra, who was now flat on his back, straining his head forward to speak. Kalobi cushioned Marzubra’s head with his right hand as he bent down to hear his dying words;

“The…drums…Kong…the…drums…”

Both sadness and anger welled up inside Kalobi’s chest, as he looked from his departed mentor and father-figure, to the man who had killed him, Elkana, standing and staring, as still as a lifeless statue, besides the flames around him. Kalobi then reached over for the spear and picked it up, watching Elkana’s expressionless face come to life as he took a step backwards. The two men stood and faced each other across the dancing flames between them both. The entire village watched and waited with bated breath. Kalobi raised the spear to shoulder level, pointing towards Elkana. The nagging impulse to plunge it into his enemy’s heart was about to overwhelm him, when instead, remembering Marzubra’s final words, he turned to face the people gathered around the gate, lifted the spear above his head, then struck the butt end on the ground three times whilst calling:

“Kong! KONG! KONG!”

With immediate effect the chorus of drumming and chanting became reactivated. Elkana responded in turn by issuing commands to his remaining loyal followers:

“All who worship Racchu, gather your weapons and follow me!”

He then turned to Zarubok and whispered instructions into his ear, before dispatching him back into the crowds. Kalobi was just halfway up the wall to return to his original post when Elkana’s men rushed towards the fiery barrier, jumping in-between the individual fires, to engage the men guarding Kong’s congregation. The sound of the ensuing pitched battle caused Kalobi to turn and look. He was torn between either joining the fray below or with the rest of the drummers above. But then his attention was re-directed; approaching the fiery semi-circle across the divide between the masses was the unmistakeable figure of the shaman, Zarubok. But accompanying him, under force, was the equally recognisable form of Kalobi’s own mother. Elkana’s men had already begun to overpower the Kong worshippers by the time Kalobi’s feet are back on the ground. The drummers at ground level were silenced forcibly, leaving only those upon the wall to beat out their call. When some of Elkana’s men went to climb the ladders to quiet them also, Elkana raised his hand to prevent them and shouted,

“Leave them. Let them call their god. We have a sacrifice to give him.”

At that, Zarubok shoved Kalobi’s mother toward Elkana, who put a heavy hand upon her shoulder, as Kalobi strode toward them.

“Let her go,” Kalobi demanded. “If you want a sacrifice take me instead.”

Elkana thought over the proposition for the briefest of moments, then responded:

“Very well, Here!” he pushed Kalobi’s mother back to Zarubok before she could voice her protest.

“Look after her, Zarubok. For insurance!” he added.

“Put out those fires,” Elkana began barking out orders again. “Gather the rest of the people in. There is going to be a test… of faith.”

CHAPTER 26

There followed indeed a test of faith, almost on biblical proportions; the scene around the altar outside the mighty walls looked almost like something out of the pages of First of Kings Chapter 18; where worshippers of Baal were put to the sword by Elijah, the prophet of Jehovah, to determine who was the true god. Although unacquainted with such writings, Elkana unwittingly assumed the role of a latter-day Elijah; believing himself to be the keeper of the flame of truth, as it were, in upholding Racchu as the only one to be worshipped. And so confident was he in his beliefs, he even allowed the devotees of Kong to call on their god to the beat of their drums, to the left side of the gate, whilst Racchu’s worshippers did the same on the right. Elkana’s overriding confidence that Kong would not show was based on the fact that when the drums were last beat out in his name, many years ago, Kong made no appearance after a series of no-shows. Hence, the practice had long been abandoned.

Of cause, what Elkana did not have knowledge of was the death of Kong’s father. And how, as an orphaned infant, Little Kong had often heard the call of the drums whilst he was deep in the jungle, but lacked the circumstances to be able to answer their call; given the fact that, because of his vulnerable size and inexperience, he had to limit his territory to within a safe radius, and only ventured forth from the safety of the tree tops when absolutely necessary. Ignorant of these facts as he was, Elkana chose to believe, instead, that Kong had died. His ignorance was also his bliss. Shared in equal measures with Zarubok, who had profited with him handsomely from the void that the absence of Kong had left, after they both perpetuated the myth of Kong’s death, along with the introduction of a new religion, based upon a god that many of their warriors had seen with their own eyes when venturing beyond the great wall; the great tooth reptile; or Racchu, in the native vernacular. Elkana had insisted that the Kong devotees place a pile of fruit upon the altar, such was his conviction that their hopes were in vein. But to add spice to the proceedings he also had his men lay the carcasses of several former Kong worshippers draped over the edges of the altar. But the crème de la crème, the cherry in the top of this banquet for the gods, was a living sacrifice; and none better than the one who had been a thorn in the flesh for Elkana, ever since he first returned from the jungle, stirring up renewed hope in Kong, -the boy, Kalobi.

As he watched the young man being led by the two guards up the steps of the altar, Elkana smugly congratulated himself on this masterstroke. When Kong does not show, fine enough, he thought; but when Racchu, or even a lesser one of the reptile gods, smells the blood of the dead ones upon the altar, he surely will show. And when he does, he will not be able to resist the live, struggling prey trapped upon the altar before him. And then, not only will Kalobi be silenced once and for all, but all the people will have to acknowledge the reptiles as their gods; with Racchu as the chief of them, and Elkana, along with Zarubok; the chosen representatives of the gods. Zarubok was, as ever, milking his role as self-appointed High Priest of Racchu; whipping up the cheerleaders and the drummers under his command, to outdo their contemporaries, representing Kong, high up on the left of the giant doorway. The shaman danced and chanted wildly; his pupils rolled up under his eyelids, so all that was visible were the whites of his eyes, giving him the appearance of a man possessed. Kalobi’s guards took him to the far edge of the altar; treading over dead, bloody bodies and piles of fruit and vegetables as they did so. They began binding his wrists so tightly, that Kalobi winced as the ropes cut into his flesh. Then both men were about to fasten his ropes to the two pillars on the far corners of the altar, when a deep growl, close by, stopped them in their tracks. Kalobi’s heart skipped a beat,-had Kong responded so quickly to their calls? Suddenly, out of the jungle, burst forth a giant, bi-pedal dinosaur; not as large as a Tyrannosaur. This was, in fact, an Allosaurus; but nonetheless, a carnivore capable enough of reaching out with its gargantuan jaws, and plucking Kalobi from the top of his perch, like a piece of fruit on a branch of a tree. The two guards who stood by Kalobi’s sides, recognised this fact also, and swiftly turned about face, then made haste down the stairs, almost knocking down Elkana, as he was ascending to the top.

“Cowardly fools,” he growled, “Must I do everything myself?”

Kalobi ran toward him; the unfastened ropes flapping loosely by his sides, until Elkana thrust his blade toward him.

“Where do you think you are going, boy? You volunteered to become a sacrifice, remember? Or would you rather I had your mother fetched up here in your place? No, I thought not.  So turn back!”

Kalobi reluctantly turned around and did as he was told. The lumbering Allosaurus was still sniffing the air to locate the kill; evidently its eyesight was as poor as the Tyrannosaur. And whilst it did so, Elkana pulled the rope tied to Kalobi’s left hand, through a metal ring attached to the left side pillar with one hand, while pointing his knife at touching distance of Kalobi’s rib cage with the other hand. Keeping one eye on the whereabouts of the Allosaurus, Elkana worked in haste as he saw the giant reptile turn toward the altar and make strides in their direction. Beads of perspiration began to slither down his forehead and into his eyes. He strained to pull the rope between his teeth and free hand to form a knot tight enough to hold Kalobi.

“There!” he gasped in visible relief as the monster lumbered to within another stride before it was on top of them. Elkana backed away quickly, leaving Kalobi face –to-face with the approaching Allosaurus. He pulled his body desperately with all his strength to try and loosen the hold on the rope; he would even have cut off his hand if it meant escaping the monstrous apparition before him. The creature’s head hovered above the top of the altar to home in on the scent of the human blood that was upon it, while Kalobi backed away as far as the few feet that the rope would allow him to.

Elkana remained on the altar’s platform, a safe distance behind Kalobi. Whilst crowds of people watched in horror from the top of the walls; the Kong drummers had ceased, resigned in defeat, while the Racchu band played on. Down below, many stood staring from behind the half-open gates; many in fear as much for themselves as for Kalobi. Except one figure, who wriggled free from the hand of a guard, too transfixed by the scene to notice. It was Kalobi’s mother, who, as only a mother can when her son is in danger, pushed aside any fear for her own welfare, with the same determination that she pushed aside anybody in the crowd who blocked her passage to the front. As she made her way out of the crowd of gawking spectators, she beheld from a distance what Kalobi witnessed close-up; the opening jaws of the Allosaurus above her helpless son. As the creature opened its mouth to the maximum, a deep roar issued forth. However, Kalobi semi-consciously thought, the noise seemed different than the sound it made before; though strangely familiar, nevertheless.

In a flash, another huge dark shape crashed out from the trees behind the Allosaurus; which turned in surprise, to come face-to-face with King Kong! The gargantuan gorilla stood upright to rise above the reptile, in his most intimidating stance. Another warning roar ripped out into the still night air to send shudders through any living thing that stood within earshot of the sound; including the Allosaurus, which, valuing it’s life above an easy meal, made a hasty retreat back into the jungle.

Just as the late Marzubra had predicted; Kong had “spoken”. And when every soul heard his voice, they bent their knee in submissiveness. Just as a quaking Elkana did, and the rest of the people followed; from those upon the wall, down to the doorway below, to the entire village beyond; every man, woman, and child. The drums and the chants of “Racchu” had all ceased. Instead, in hushed whispers by a few individuals at first, then, spreading out like a spark that grows to set ablaze an entire forest, the word was out. And the word on everyone’s lips was,

“KONG! KONG! KONG!”

As the king inspected the scene before him, he was not pleased, Elkana could detect, as he carefully lifted his bowed head to see the cross expression on the dark face looming large before him. Cautiously, steadily, almost in slow motion, Elkana arose from his bowed position, crossed over to the pillar that Kalobi was tied to, and untied the rope. All the time observing the giant ape’s facial expression as he did so. Was it his imagination or did the gorilla’s gaze soften when he saw that Elkana was releasing Kalobi? Just to be on the safe side, Elkana looked around for something to pacify the beast further. He set his sight on a ripe banana sitting on top of the food pile, picked it up, and with an outstretched palm offered it to Kong as he walked slowly toward him, keeping his head respectfully lowered. Kong inspected the meagre offering held out by the puny little being before him. And, with a giant huff of air exhaled through his wide nostrils, sent the banana flying out of Elkana’s hand, nearly blowing him over in the process.

Kalobi, undoing the ropes from his sore wrists, barely managed to suppress a giggle at the humbled Elkana, who steadily backed away while still facing Kong, curtsying with appeasing open palms, until he was out of sight down the steps. Once clear of Kong’s frightful gaze Elkana rushed down the stairs. The for-once, dumbstruck Zarubok was the first person he passed along the way. He then stopped, grabbing hold of the reptile-skin hood upon Zarubok’s head, and shouted angrily,

“Get that ridiculous thing off, you fool!”

The two men struggled to pull the garment off over Zarubok’s head, as the people gathered around them began to snigger and laugh. The levity of the moment broke the ice between a people who, only moments ago, were enemies. Enemies to such an extent that they were willing to kill each other, and some, in fact, had done so. But now, with the return of Kong in person, who had just given an emphatic demonstration of his superiority over the giant reptile kind, old scores were soon forgotten. And, a people so long divided by religious intolerance, rivalry, and hatred, joined together in unity to bow down to their king, King Kong. Kalobi’s mother reached the top step of the altar but ventured no further. She knew that a mother’s expression of love toward a son, whom she thought she had lost for ever, could wait a while longer. For now, let her son enjoy the intimacy of a rare moment with a god-like giant, whom, she could sense, shared a deep bond with each other, as they partook in an odd type of sacred communion; man and beast-god, sharing together the food that had been placed as a sacrifice upon the altar. For Kalobi, though he had got to know and enjoy the friendship, and care, of some good friends in his path to adulthood during his search for Kong, he knew that none of them ever could, or ever would, surpass the unique bond that he had formed with the magnificent creature that sat alongside him, for as long as he ever lived.

For Kong, there would one day come another human; one that would captivate his heart and ultimately shape his final destiny in an entirely different way.

But that, as they say, is another story…

ACKNOWLEdGEMENTS

I wish to take this opportunity to thank my brother, Jerry, who provided the technical nous necessary to put this story (as well as the front cover) together in the format required. We haven’t seen so much of each other in years!

I’d like also to express my appreciation to my “secretary” (unpaid!), Mandy, for her typing skills in a sizeable section of this book.

Of cause, this story would not have been possible without the invention of the big hairy fella, Kong, himself. So here’s to the late Merian Caldwell Cooper for his imagination, and technical innovation in bringing his brainchild to life on the silver screen.

And finally, I’d especially like to thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read this book, and beg your forgiveness for any inaccuracies or errors that I may have made(this is my first attempt at a novel !).

Hope you enjoyed the story. I’m working on another one; an original idea of my own. I hope to have it published sometime this year (2015).

The title is: CICADA SUMMER.

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26