Part IV
Atushka the Chief
As the sun was reaching its apex in the sky, Mr. Klemmens and the Widow were still walking through the lush jungle. They had stopped briefly for a quick lunch and had just began to move out again when Mr. Klemmens suddenly rushed in front of the Widow and held his arm out in front of her, forcing the Widow to stop. "What is it Mr. Klemmens?" she whispered. "We're being watched, and I believe we may be surrounded." "Oh heavens." said the Widow as she placed a hand in front of her mouth and looked around the jungle pensively. Mr. Klemmens slowly began to unsheathe his scimitar as he crouched low and scanned the trees.
"Do not withdraw your arms, creature!" boomed a deep voice from somewhere behind them. Mr. Klemmens, keeping his paw on the hilt of the semi-unsheathed sword, quickly turned around to face the sound. "Who are you, and what do you want with us?" demanded the Widow. "What are you doing on MY island?" boomed back the mysterious voice. "What makes this your island, is your name written on it?" said the Widow as she stifled a giggle. Mr. Klemmens shot her a disapproving look. "ENOUGH QUESTIONS!" boomed the voice. "I AM NOT AMUSED! TELL ME WHO YOU ARE AND WHY YOU HAVE COME HERE OR MY WARRIORS AND I WILL ATTACK WITHOUT MERCY!" Mr. Klemmens' fully withdrew his scimitar with a loud SHINK! as his fur bristled and he hissed at the trees around them, "Try it fool!" he spit, baring his sharp teeth. "Easy Mr. Klemmens." The Widow whispered. "I can handle this."
The Widow stepped in front of Mr. Klemmens and put both of her arms outward, showing she had no weapons. "Please excuse my good friend Mr. Klemmens; he only wishes to protect me. As you can see, I am simply an old Widow. We mean you no harm. We were simply passing by your island when we nearly crashed. We just wanted to stretch our legs and do a bit of exploring. Please, do me a kindness and step out so that we can meet face to face, peaceably." For a moment the Widow thought the man behind the voice had gone away, then without warning, the leaves began to rustle from all around them and the trees began to creak and sway in a building wind. Mr. Klemmens pushed the Widow back behind him again and stood in a defensive position with his sword up and at the ready. "Patience Mr. Klemmens, patience." Whispered the Widow.
Just then, from behind a small shrub, came a very short and very old man with heavily tattooed ebony skin. The black tribal tattoos were connected and seemed to swirl and wrap around every part of his body as though he were entirely covered with one giant tattoo. The man wore nothing but a loincloth and had a quiver of arrows slung over his back and a huge hunting bow in one hand, which he now leaned upon like a great staff. The little man looked up at the Widow warily, then, seeing she truly meant him no harm he smiled a wide, semi-toothless grin. "Ah yes! Hello." he said a with a heavy Rastafarian accent. "I am Atushka and dis is my island, de Island of Apuwashi! I am de chief of a very small tribe dat exists only on dis island." the small man looked down at his feet shamefully, kicking up dirt as he spoke. "I am sorry for de threateninglyness of myself. I have most probably scared de Jumblies out of you, but we've had many uninvited guests to our island recently and dey aren't usually as pleasant as you Madame. In fact dey are more often than not quite hostile, like your fat, furry friend here." said Atushka as he poked Mr. Klemmens belly with his bow and laughed. Mr. Klemmens sheathed his sword roughly and flashed the man a grin full of long white teeth. "Well it certainly is nice to meet you Mr. Atushka." said the Widow enthusiastically. "Is your village close by? I brought some of my special scones with me and I would love to share them with you while you tell me all about your wonderful island." "Oh yes, I would like dat very much." said the old man excitedly. "Follow me!" he bellowed as he dashed off into the jungle with surprising speed.
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