The Two Tribes

By P. L. Hurst

Come with us now on a journey to the magical world of Anaram, where you will have tea with the Amazonian girls of Tribe Sparkle, followed by a night of hunting with the dirty barbarian boys of Tribe Spit. Dont forget to take a peek inside the humble home of Mr. Kirtap with the Top Hat, our worlds most beloved wizard. Do you like mountain-sized elephants? Or riding upon the back of a giant blue jay? Then we have you covered! But maybe hunting for a long-lost magical stone is more to your liking? All I can say about that is shush. No matter what your wishes are, Anaram has it all, even dragons! Youve been warned.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503549777

P. L. Hurst

For the past eight years, P. L. Hurst has worked for his local school districts and school programs. During this time, he befriended many children of all ages. It was these children who inspired and helped P. L. Hurst in creating the book you hold in your hands, as well as enough material for a dozen other books. P. L. Hurst has recently retired from the schools to write full-time.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by P. L. Hurst.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015903617

ISBN:      Hardcover        978-1-5035-4975-3

               Softcover          978-1-5035-4976-0

               eBook               978-1-5035-4977-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/09/2015

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter One

Our story begins with a normal ten-year-old girl named Jazzmine. She had a mother and a father as well as a baby brother named Johnny. Johnny would always get on her nerves with all his crying and cooing. She lived in a neighborhood, but to be more specific, she lived in a house within that neighborhood: a white house with a garage and a mailbox. And in that house, she had her own bedroom with pink drapes and flowers painted on the walls. The one funny thing about Jazzmine, though, is that despite her love for the color pink and of flowers and stuffed animals, she considers herself a tomboy. If you were to take a peek into her closet, you would notice that she does not have a dress to her name. Instead, there are football jerseys and baseball hats and blue jeans. Most people see her as being a very confusing little girl when in fact, she just wants to be herself.

One day, she arrived home very much tired after a long day at school. She dropped her bag on the floor and jumped onto her bed.

All right, mister. I know you’re here. Come on out! I’ve got a lot to tell ya!

Oh, right. There is one thing that I forgot to mention about this normal little girl. She still has an imaginary friend. Nothing wrong with that, but try telling that to her parents or her friends or, worse yet, her frenemies! In an empty rocking chair appears a tall, skinny man, dressed richly in a black tux and an outrageously tall, misshaped top hat.

Hello, Jazzmine. The man bows slightly, which looks quite silly since he is sitting down.

Hello, Mr. Kirtap with the Top Hat. Jazzmine bows back, which looks even sillier since she is half-lying on her bed. Today was such a long day. First, Mrs. Cooper caught me eating in class, then Ethan. You know, that boy that put chewed gum in my hair last week. Well, you’ll never guess what he did to me today! Jazzmine stopped to take a breath, but also because she could see that Mr. Kirtap was not acting like his normal, happy self, and it was true. His head was hung low—so low, in fact, that Jazzmine could hardly see his face. And instead of slouching in the chair like he always did, he was now sitting straight. Some would have called it a proper posture. This proper posture scared Jazzmine.

Mr. Kirtap, what’s wrong?

Mr. Kirtap looked up and tried to give Jazzmine a smile. It was not his best, and he knew it.

I just have a lot on my mind, Jazzmine. A whole lot on my mind … And with that, he let out a sigh.

Tell me about it. Please. This was another curiosity about the girl Jazzmine. Sure she could spit as well as the boys she hung out with, and sure she was never ashamed about letting a burp escape at the dinner table, even though she always got a talking to by her mother when she did so. But under it all, or rather alongside it all, she had a very kind heart and could never stand the sight of someone in pain, especially if it was her imaginary friend.

Well, Mr. Kirtap shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Do you remember the stories I told you? The ones about the two tribes?

Oh yes! The tribe of girls called Sparkle and the tribe of boys called Spit! I love those stories. I really like the one about the boys who went hunting and found the giant egg! Mr. Kirtap gently cleared his throat, which was a polite way of saying Excuse me, but may I continue?

I’m sorry, mister. Go on. How are the two tribes? Oh no. Is something bad happening to them? Jazzmine sat straight up in bed, holding a pillow tightly in her lap.

The worst thing that could ever happen. They’ve gone ahead and started a war. Mr. Kirtap sounded very bitter as he spoke. Can you imagine? Children going to war with one another?

Oh no was all Jazzmine could say. Of course, she knew about war, but she had only seen it on TV or read about it in history books at school. It was something that grown-ups did. She never did understand it much, but then she never really thought about it either. Kids, though … Going to war with other kids? After a moment of silence, Jazzmine looked at Mr. Kirtap and gently said, Is there anything you can do to stop them?

Mr. Kirtap let out a little laugh, not a haha laugh. More like a huh laugh. Then he looked straight up at the ceiling.

"I’ve tried everything. They won’t listen to me. It all started during a nice lunch between the queen and king. They were enjoying peanut butter sandwiches and juice, talking about how great their tribes had become over the years. I was there as well. I usually am when the king and queen meet. Anyways, the queen was making over her Amazon-hunting party, who had just caught a mighty, big peacock. She was excited by the fact that she could now add more colors to her feathered headdress. The king then started talking about his barbarian hunters and how they had recently caught a giant crocodile in the nearby swamps. He was excited because at that moment, his boys were making him a new suit of croc armor.

"The queen made the remark, ‘Surely my feathers will be greater to look at than some old crocodile!’ This outraged the king, who replied, ‘Yes, but will your feathers protect you from an invasion from the adults?’ It was now that I could see where this conversation was heading. ‘Now, now, friends,’ I said. ‘Let us not compare. Both things are equally beautiful and useful.’ ‘They are not!’ yelled the queen, whose face was bright red with rage. ‘Exactly!’ yelled back the king. ‘What good are feathers for? They wouldn’t stand a chance against a mighty sword!’

"This threw the queen into an even greater frenzy. She stood up and crossed her arms and gave the king a crazed look. ‘Is that a challenge? You know full well that we girls are just as good at being warriors as you boys are. In fact, we’re better!’ Now it was the king’s turn to stand up. ‘Better? Hah! What could a girl do? You are all too afraid of breaking a nail or getting your dresses dirty. Better leave any and all fighting to us boys. Stick to what you’re good at: cooking us food!’

"And that was it—the three words that started the war. The queen screamed for her guards, who threw the king out of her tent and into a mud puddle. I tried to calm the queen down, but it was pointless. ‘Cooking? Is that all we are good for? How dare he! Cooking? Cooking? I’ll show him cooking! Princess Amme, rally the hunters! Tomorrow, we fly to battle!’

"I did not know what to do. The queen would not listen to reason. The next morning, bright and early, before the sun completely rose over the orange mountains, I set off for Tribe Spit. I didn’t quite make it, though, because halfway there, I was greeted by twenty boys riding atop their mighty wolf steeds, led by Prince Mail. ‘Hello there, Mr. Kirtap with the Top Hat. We know where you are going, and it is pointless. The king refuses to see you. He knows that you do not agree with what is to come, but Tribe Sparkle is beginning to think that they are more than they are. We must put them in their place. There is only room for the boys of Spit in the battlefield!’

"‘Please, Mail,’ I begged. ‘Listen to reason. By going off to war, you are no better than the adults!’ This struck a nerve, as I had hoped for, but