The blow stopped Magnuh in his tracks. Stunned, he shook his skull, but Gazda stepped in close, reversing his grasp to strike the monster on the other side of his head.
Magnuh trumpeted as he reached out for Gazda with his trunk, but the night ape had cocked his bludgeon back and hit now with a speed and power that knocked the elephant’s head to the left, splintering the tusk on the right side.
The beast staggered back, and dropped to one knee, disoriented by the blow. Blood was flowing freely from the wounds on his gigantic head.
Gazda found the scent intoxicating, and raised his passion for killing the more. He swung the club overhand and struck the elephant between the eyes. The beast somehow absorbed the blow and was ready with a club of his own, having found a length of broken tree trunk that he now brought down on Gazda’s left shoulder to shatter it and leave the limb hanging.
But the night ape would not be stopped, so he leapt in close and delivered a powerful punch that drove his hard right fist deep into the thick muscle on the elephant’s face.
Stunned, Magnuh swung to the left and slammed his large head against a heavy tree trunk. The elephant dropped to his knees, and Gazda charged in, drilling his bloody fist into Magnuh’s gargantuan cheek again.
There was a terrific cracking sound as molars were unseated, and the elephant lunged to his feet. Magnuh turned to catch his balance, shifting and spinning until he reached uneven ground and fell in the wreckage and ruin of the forest floor
Gazda smiled, then cradling his broken arm he leapt into a tree to reset the mangled limb and watch as the jungle giant streamed blood and struggled in the muck, trying to gain his feet—unable to accept defeat.
CHAPTER 40 – The Order of Things
As Gazda watched the bull elephant labor in the mire, he was struck by his own thoughtless savagery. He should not have done this! He had learned much in his battle with the bone-faces. The night ape knew his own power by now, and had suspected that the elephant was no longer a match for him.
Yet he made the challenge.
Where he should have experienced great shame and pity, he had felt elation to see the jungle giant humbled.
Magnuh was king of the land, greater than Goro or any silverback had ever been. The bull elephant was by nature’s decree the lord of the jungle.
It was the order of things—the natural order.
And yet Gazda had selfishly acted on a suicidal impulse, and in his childish tantrum challenged Magnuh to a fight he knew the beast was unlikely to win.
Such a challenge and outcome did nothing to define a position for the night ape in the natural hierarchy, but rather it showed him that he had no logical place in nature—that he had no place in this world.
Perhaps that had been the motivation for Magnuh’s long hatred of him. The beast could see that there was no place for Gazda in his lands or among these towering trees. There was no territory or lair for a night ape—there was no natural predator to keep him in check.
While he felt himself a member of his mother’s tribe of apes, even those dull creatures had recognized he did not belong.
And Gazda had known it, too—realized his own alien nature, and denied it until he thought he had a chance to join with Ginny and her night ape tribe. Their world and their artifacts, their unnatural music, garments and customs somehow suited him, and matched his uncanny ways.
More than his tribe of apes ever had.
Yet even Ginny’s tribe had rejected him—found him unfit for their fellowship. Was that how he had come to Eeda? Had Fur-nose abandoned him, too?
So, after this last rejection, Gazda had hoped to muscle his way back into the jungle world by taking Magnuh’s life. He would use brute force to dominate and demand acceptance.
He would force his way into the natural world just so he would have a place somewhere, so that he would not be alone.
“Magnuh! Whose thoughts are these—whose words?” the night ape cried out to the wounded giant. Parts and pieces of unknown languages fell from his tongue and crowded his head. “Eeda did not teach me this...”
He panted anxiously, crouched on a branch remembering the strange images that had come into his head with the night ape talk. They had used words that hinted at understanding, like the music that still echoed in him and conjured thoughts of Lilly and Ginny dancing and turning.
“They feared Gazda?” He laughed without humor. “They feared a friend!”
He struck the tree with his fist causing the thick trunk to tremble and shards of bark and splintered wood to scatter. Then he contemplated his bone white hand as the fresh cuts upon it healed before his eyes.
He screamed, but it was no roar of challenge. Sorrow filled the hoarse cry.
Below him, Magnuh watched from the ground. The beast had ceased his efforts to stand, but his great ribs heaved as he gathered his strength.
“Rise Magnuh,” Gazda encouraged the elephant, as the monster roared and trumpeted, unleashed its mighty strength against the earth to surge upright in the bloody mud.
Gazda cheered the great beast and beat his chest as Magnuh gained his balance in the slippery scarlet muck beneath his feet. Thick red blood still drooled from the elephant’s trunk.
“What am I, Magnuh?” the night ape cried, voice breaking and eyes blinded by tears.
The great beast rumbled, its bloody trunk snuffling at the tangled litter and torn earth.
“I am a greater hunter...” Gazda said, suddenly slumping against the tree. “That is all I know.”
A loud, deep growling began to roll through the jungle, rising past the quivering leaves until the canopy high overhead began to shudder. It cycled again, this vibration rolling upward, emanating from the bull elephant’s bulk below. The battered beast flapped
