Christian replied hastily, in English. “Yes. Don’t rock the boat. Just accept. Our task here is now made that much easier because if you tell them of our Lord, they will believe it. We hold daily classes and have made progress but we have not been able to convince them yet.”
“Well, Father. I will do all I can to help, of course but…girls? No. I do not think I should do that.”
Christian shrugged his shoulders and let out a short sigh, before turning back to face the tribal leaders. “Our holy companion, says thank you for your hospitality and he is pleased that you recognise his powers,” he said, in their tongue again. “He wishes to withold his mighty knowledge and live amongst you as equal.” Quickly spotting the concerns on the leaders’ faces, he added: “But he will accept that he should not work in your presence.” This seemed to appease them and they urged Christian to introduce them to the new God.
The Witch Doctor was introduced as She-Akbiyla and he also greeted Saviour with the rubbing of noses. The aroma from him was not nearly so pleasant as that of the woman, Excanda, who was next to be formerly introduced. Finally, the silent one of the trio stepped forward and, after giving his name as Ko-At-Skanta, he carried out the now familiar ritual with the noses.
The trio formed a line next to each other, three feet from Saviour, bowed as one and retreated slowly backwards until the body of the tribe was reached. They then went their separate ways.
“Well done!” said Christian to Ignatious, slapping his shoulders. “I think we should find you something to wear, don’t you?”
On the climb back to his quarters, Ignatious was much more aware of his nakedness and found it most embarrassing to be climbing above his colleagues, especially Vasquez, feeling that they would all be staring at his naked bottom! Once inside, he quickly found a beige-coloured shift, donning it just before the head of Sister Vasquez appeared in the entrance.
From then on, Ignatious lived a life of relative luxury, the only work allowed him being that of a preacher. The tribe, men and women alike, erected a reasonably large church, with a solid stone altar installed at which communion was administered.
The tribe enjoyed their lessons and took on board the new God, Jesus, about whom they were taught. The missionaries allowed the age-old traditional Gods of the tribe to be worshiped alongside theirs so as not to cause any conflict, and this worked fine. The Witch Doctor was honoured as an equal to Saviour but he refused to accept such high office remaining happy as the guide, counsellor and, in some cases, physician to his people. However, Sister Vasquez carried out the greater medical work and she performed many hitherto impossible cures. She was liked and admired by the people and, secretly, she was looked upon as a greater healer than the Witch Doctor.
Throughout the stay, Ignatious remained celibate, although the simple beauty of the young girls on offer often tempted him. He was disappointed that his male counterparts never failed to take a girl to their beds at night. Sister Vasquez, revered though she was, was still a female and had no call on any of the men; nor were they allowed to choose her. Puzzlingly, it was permissible for her to have any of the girls, and in as many numbers as she desired but she refused, consoling herself with cleansing prayer. Even so, from Ignatious’s vantage point in his newly erected building, high to the left of the village where he had a view of the whole area, he often saw dark figures sneaking up the short ladder into her quarters. These consisted mainly of well-muscled young men but, on occasion, a budding young woman or two.
Life here was basic and hard, but there was a great pleasure derived from the result of sheer effort and cooperation. The newcomers learned many of the trades of the tribe, including expert hunting of animals and fishing without use of a line. Ignatious could only watch and learn as he accompanied the parties on their missions.
After six months, the missionaries felt it was time to move on. God had been brought to these simple people and the church was now established as a part of their culture. It was a job truly well done.
Although the leaders were disappointed that these strangers had to go, they gradually came to accept it. They even built a rough but serviceable boat ready for the journey, which moored at the river’s edge, close to a shallow bank.
On the final night, a huge party was arranged. The food was in plentiful supply, accompanied by many different and tasty fruits. Also on the menu were varieties of strange and unknown drugs, derived from the many exotic plants that populated the surrounding jungle, which were swallowed, taken in liquid form or smoked. This was a regular feature of weekend life in the village.
Late into the night, when the drugs were taking full effect, the whole place was a mass of screaming, writhing, babbling and openly lovemaking people of all ages.
Although his companions easily abandoned themselves into the debauchery, Ignatious tried to remain apart, praying constantly. However, when a nubile young woman, of what age he could not even guess, fourteen to seventeen, it was impossible to know, he succumbed. Kneeling in his loose-fitting shift, he found the girl’s delicate caressing of his head, then body, irresistible. All his pent-up emotions and frustrations were given reign in a totally abandoned three-hour stint.
There was a touching scene the following day when the missionaries took their leave, with the whole village in the centre of the compound, bedecked with aromatic flowers, swaying as one and singing a haunting song of farewell, their arms waving aloft to the rhythm. Many tears were shed, among both men and women, and shared by Vasquez. The priests, to a man, shuddered in witheld emotion, lumps being silently swallowed. Among the crowd, Ignatious caught the eye of the girl with whom he had spent the night; she was completely at ease and smiling unconcernedly. When he recognised more the age of her, he felt a pang of shame. It soon passed.
Ignatious awoke from his dream, a smile on his lips and an act of nature giving a warm sensation to his body. They were such pleasant memories. He sat up, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. Bending his knees and encircling them with his arms, he rocked gently to and fro, basking in the recollections and enjoying the sight that the memory of the eroticism with the young tribeswoman had brought to him.
After many minutes reverie, he rose and prepared himself for the day ahead. He would have souls to console, confessions to hear.
The police helicopter had taken to the skies early. The pilot, Sergeant Robert MacKay, had several young police officers to train that day, so an early start was essential. With him now was Women’s Police Constable Wendy Travilcock, the name condemning her to being the butt of unending ‘jokes’ with the immature males around her, even though it should be pronounced: “travilco.” She took it all in good part, feeling a contemptuous pity for the poor souls; some day they may just grow up but she wasn’t at all certain of that. The thing about it that annoyed her to some extent, was how the majority felt that her name meant that she was willing to give her favours to any who asked — or, in some cases, demanded. No way. Being with such child-men made her appreciate the older, more mature kind who treated her in a perfectly normal way. MacKay’s age was of no consequence in this equation; he was interested only in his job when at work, with no time for diversions.
This was Wendy’s seventh lesson and she was beginning to really enjoy it. She had reached the stage where Mackay felt confident enough to let her take control and she revelled in completing new manoeuvres.
From the unit at Heathrow, they were now skimming over the Thames Valley area, the panoramic view bringing a lasting joy to both. The sun was just making it’s presence felt, at eight-fifteen in the morning, and the ground below was beginning to show increasing signs of life.
Automatically leaning to one side as she caused the craft to execute a wide turn, Wendy spotted something below. At first, she wasn’t sure of what she had seen, even if she had seen anything at all. She made another turn, throttling back a little and searching below, between glances at the complex instrument panel. MacKay remained silent but he, too, began to look at the ground, realising that his companion was looking for something.
“Ah! There!” she gasped. “Something in the middle of that patch. See it?” Mackay had to stretch his body
