Farkwa and the Valley of the Python's Fang, Rise of the Big 5

By Gerard Victor

The Second book in the Farkwa Trilogy, following Dudi the orpaned Rhino calf through Poaching and his merry band of animal heroes. They are being hunted by an highly dangerous Poaching Syndicate, guided by the crazy African witchdoctor Wazi. Again the animals band together to form the fisrxt African anti poaching unit as the brace together for the final show down against the illegal syndicate. The book is steeped in African Mythology and magic moments.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gerard Victor
• Release date: Nov 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201513931

Book preview

Ogres of Ice Mountain

Dudi’s eyes were transfixed on the poacher, the man that had taken his mother from him with one rifle shot, in the pursuit of greed. Taken away his protection and cast him into the wilderness lost and as an orphan. The poacher stared into the tear stained face of a majestic creature. The tears he saw coursing down Dudi’s face were not tears of sadness, but of immense, uncontrollable rage. The poacher felt the horn, pushing higher into the skin under his throat. He had nowhere to run to. He was pinned against the wall in the Great Hall of Ice Mountain. His quest to find the mythical Elephant Graveyard had come to a very abrupt end.

Dudi started raising his huge head. He would end this now, just as the poacher had ended his life with his mother, his love, his protection. Dudi took a step forward ready to drive his horn upward into the poacher’s throat. If he was able to speak, he would’ve told the poacher why he was about to become like the poacher - a murderer. He could not take a step back. He snorted one last time and readied himself for the final strike.

Farkwa laid a gentle hand on Dudi’s head and bent down. He whispered into the Rhino’s ear. A sudden calm overwhelmed Dudi.

Stay calm Mighty Dudi, you do not want to live with regret. We all know what you feel, we understand your pain, and we have lived the pain with you. We are now your family!

Step back Dudi! Step back whispered Farkwa.

Dudi did not move. He did not step back as requested. Instead he bent his front legs and lowered his huge bulk into a type of a bow. He had heard the emotional and honest words of Farkwa. Dudi seemed at peace. The tears of rage dried up from Dudi’s face. He watched through the corner of his eye as Farkwa moved like a cat to confront the poacher.

The poacher was shaking. He was staring into the face of the protector of the bush. He couldn’t take a proper breath. It felt as if he had been hit in the stomach with a sledge hammer. He saw Farkwa raising his arms, opening his hands and gripping onto the poacher’s temples.

Farkwa stared into the lifeless eyes of the poacher and gazed into his soul. He saw only a dark heart, a heart without emotion, without love and without remorse. He wrapped his hands around the poacher’s head and pulled him closer to him. Their eyes were interlocked; Farkwa stared deeper, concentrating on trying to find the poacher’s soul. As he looked deeper he saw only killing, he saw the souls of the animals the poacher had taken. He saw the souls of majestic animals leaving their bodies becoming one with Africa. Farkwa drew a long breath and began to accept the lost souls into his body. Farkwa was taking the painful memories from the poacher’s body and transferring them into his.

As more and more souls entered Farkwa’s body, the poacher started feeling weaker. His legs were jelly under him and he could feel himself starting to buckle. If it was not for Farkwa holding him up at the temples, the poacher would’ve fallen to the floor of the Great Hall of Ice Mountain.

In the town, far below Ice Mountain, the ground started shaking. People looked bemused. The tremors and shaking grew stronger as they moved closer towards the Cruel Saloon-a place of evil and the resting place as many animals, as trophies lining the walls. The more souls that entered Farkwa, the greater the shaking became. The tremors were felt at their strongest from inside the walls of the saloon. It seemed as though the snow-white bones of the trophies were taking their souls back. They started shaking on the mounts that held them captive on the walls, until one by one they fell to the ground, shattering and dissolving into dust. As they fell, the mighty trophies disintegrated, evaporating into the air. At last they were free; their souls were no longer prisoners on a wall. The saloon emptied quickly, patrons running away from the falling debris and bones. Within hours, Baboon Drift was deserted, not a person was left. They had fled, away from the tremors and ground shaking.

There was only one person left in the destruction, he had not moved. He sat at his table. His animal skin robe swayed in the light breeze. The animal bladders that were tied onto his waist moved up and down gracefully in the breeze. He bent his head lower and removed his head-dress of animal skin intertwined in porcupine quills. He glared into the darkness through red, blood shot eyes. He reached to the bag on his waist and raised it onto the table. He opened the skin bag quickly and in one movement threw the bones of beasts and creatures onto the table. He watched as the bones rattled onto the wooden table and took a deep breath.

Wazi, the Sangoma (African witchdoctor), knew that this work was that of Farkwa. He sighed again through pencil thin lips. He knew that their battle was not yet over. The day of reckoning was coming, but he did not know how. For now, he didn’t! Both Farkwa and Wazi knew the dark arts of the African Bush; they were arch-enemies as one fought for good and the other for evil.

As the last trophy fell, Farkwa freed the poacher from his steely grip. The poacher fell, weak and confused. He felt a weight on both of his shoulders. He felt talons of an enormous bird grip him tightly. He was not in any pain nor did he feel the talons pierce his skin. Intaka slowly opened his wings and dragged the poacher to the entrance of Ice Mountain. The poacher looked at the ground moving beneath him. He was dazed and felt light. He was flying. Was his soul leaving his body? Was this what death felt like?

He closed his eyes and drifted away accepting his fate.

After some time, the poacher walked into the sunlight. He was walking in the wild bush. He was walking home, but what and where was home? From high above him a brightly coloured bird watched as the poacher made his way slowly into the bush. The poacher knew what dangers lay ahead in the bush. He had no weapons to defend himself. He was alone.

Farkwa was weak from inhaling all the murdered animals’ souls from the poacher. He staggered and dropped to the floor. He would have hurt himself, but he limped onto Dudi’s big frame. Together they lay there for what seemed like hours. Together they gathered their strength. They became rejuvenated-together.

Mfene, the Baboon, barked from a high vantage point. The poacher swung in the sound’s direction, but Mfene was gone. Had the hunter, now become the hunted?

The Team, Suit and the Syndicate

The hustle and bustle of the city on the Asian continent was a far cry of what the team was used too. They were used to the vast open spaces of Africa.

The meeting was scheduled at an inner-city hotel. The team entered the coffee lounge, scanning their new surroundings. They were suspicious of everyone. They took in every detail, every person. In their line of work, they had to be extremely cautious. As the team seated themselves at the meeting area, they positioned themselves in such a way that every angle was covered in the event of strangers entering the meeting place. Strangers who had been tipped off that they were in town.

A waiter approached them from behind. He did not offer them any drinks, he merely placed a piece of paper in front of a well-set man and walked away. The team did not see the man. He had vanished into the back as quickly and stealthily as a cat.

Huge, well-tanned hands embraced the note and opened it. He read it, looked around slowly and sighed. He was a big man. His shaved head glistened and as he scrunched the note his muscles bulged under the brown hunter’s shirt he was wearing. He slammed his clenched hand onto table, rose slowly and looked around once again to see if his outburst had alerted any customers. No-one had looked up. The people sipping coffee and eating savoury morsels were interested in their own conversations.

He smiled a smug grin, no one seated in this area wanted to speak to them, for now they were also safe.

Let’s go, he said.

The team rose together asking no questions and walked out of the coffee shop together, through the hotel reception; through the sliding doors of the hotel. They all took a deep breath as the heat and the humidity consumed them. The leader of the team felt beads of sweat running down his back. Was this a nervous sweat? He had been in these situations many times before. He had eluded the law for so long! He sniggered as he saw three massive black vehicles approaching the team. The windows were all blackened out as well. He knew that these vehicles were their transport.

With military precision, the team moved down the hotel stairs. The cars stopped. The team entered the middle car.

As the convoy of cars left the hotel, the front car travelled left, the back car drove right. It was left for the middle car to transport the team to their destination. They drove down the streets of a bustling city, driving down alleys and back streets. The team looked in awe as they travelled past shops in run down areas. The signs that pricked their interest were the signs that were highlighted in neon lights.

The shops all had something about Africa about them, African Surprise-Rhino Horn, The Ivory Warehouse-Real Elephant Tusk Ivory Carvings with Big Discount, The Lions’ Den-Real African Lion Bone!

The team looked at each other and smiled. They knew that none of these products held any medicinal worth, but they were in the market of supplying these shops. There was a demand for animal parts and they were the suppliers. Their motto was very simple, You have a demand and we will supply!

The team were a new breed of poacher; they were hi-tech, dealing directly with the syndicate bosses. They were paid massive amounts of money to kill rhino, elephant and lion. They were ogres of greed. They were afraid of nobody as they were able to pay officials to turn a blind eye. In the underworld of wildlife parts trading, they were untouchable!

They drove past Madam Thai’s African Curio shop. The driver pointed to the door and the well-set man nodded. This was their final destination, a shop in a run-down area. No police here. They drove past the shop again, made a U-turn and parked at the front door. The team climbed out of the vehicle and looked at their new surroundings. Cats and dogs everywhere, thin and not cared for. They entered the shop through the front door, one man stayed outside at the car. He scanned the street with a keen eye. As the door opened halfway, chimes signalled the shop owner of new patrons.

A lady moved through the beaded curtains and looked the men standing in the shop entrance up and down. She knew who they were. She ushered them in and moved quickly to the door. She took a quick look outside, closed the door and switched the open shop sign to closed. She closed the curtains and locked the door. She ushered the team into a back room, lit only by candles. The room had the smell of death, the men recognised the smell. It was the smell of chemicals hiding the smell of ivory and horn. They all inhaled deeply and smiled.

She moved to behind a large table and fidgeted underneath. Suddenly, there was a click and a secret compartment the length of the table sprung open. She pulled the drawer open. It was a deep draw and big items were clearly visible in the candle light. They were wrapped in a blanket. She motioned to two of the men to come to her side of the table, and made hand signals for them to remove the covered items. The men understood. They carefully removed the items and laid them onto the table. The team leader pulled the blanket from the items, revealing massive tusks. He knew that this ivory must have come from an old Tusker. He smiled. More items were uncovered, firstly long bones from lion and then the holy-grail, Rhino Horn. They all stood looking in amazement as these items on the black market, sold to the wealthy and naive, would be worth millions. They all knew that the ivory would soon be sent to sculptors to transform the ivory into majestic polished white trinkets. The horn would be ground up and sold to the wealthy, thinking that it will cure any illness and make them eternally healthy.

That my friends, is not enough, the demand is greater than we can supply! came a voice from the gloom. The team had not seen the man sitting in the dark. He was dressed in a pitch-black suit, and flanking him were two men brandishing weapons. The team leader could see the weapons pushing from beneath their jackets.

The team leader’s eyes had now adjusted to the dim light and started to take a step forward.

Stop! said the man in the black suit.

You need not come any closer, he said.

The team leader stopped.

Suit started speaking again, You have been carefully selected as your reputation, as well as your team precedes you. My organisation knows that you are the main supplier of wildlife contraband from Africa to our continent. You are very efficient in what you do and you have not been implicated in any illegal wildlife trafficking!

The team leader stood and listened, he was relaxed, and he enjoyed the praise.

Suit crossed his legs and handed the man a map. The leader opened the paper. It was old. It felt as if it would tear at any second. For the first time, Suit got to his feet and moved closer to the table. His fingers stretched out as he caressed the ivory that was on the table. He was oblivious to the sounds around him; he just gazed in awe at the ivory on the table.

This was truly a majestic animal; the size of the tusks tells me a story said Suit.

The team leader listened and eventually spoke.

What is this map?

I have inherited a business from my father who inherited it from his father. As you can see, this is a family business and I am the boss now. The map that you hold is a mystery as I am not from your land. It is said that the map is the map to the Valley of the Python’s Fang!

The what? said the leader?

It is a valley where the most exotic and most rare African animal species are to be found. It is a valley where the Golden Springbuck run freely and where the King of the Beasts is the majestic White Lion. The Black Leopard and the Albino Porcupine are friends and walk together under the full moon. The Black Impala is also plentiful! Personally, I want to add the revered Okapi to my collection of carpets.

The leader listened intently, none of his crew spoke.

I want you to find this Valley and I want you to bring back as many trophies as you possibly can. You will be rewarded handsomely and we will all be wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. You will have no problems getting the parts across our borders and through passport control. It is all taken care of.

Suit smiled a wry smile and as a parting gift leant close and told the leader that his team should go Passport Control Booth Number 3. The person at that seat was on the syndicate’s payroll, there would be no issues at all.

We will need specific items like .........

Suit cut in, It has already been taken care of. You will have trackers, the use of vehicles and horses, a helicopter and a well-educated vet, a man who has the knowledge of the M99 drug. You will also need money!

Suit snapped his fingers and one of his men stepped forward with a briefcase. He placed it onto the table in front of the Leader. He clicked the latches open and the leader lifted the case