"American dragonflies don't sew mouths. That's an old wives' tale."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Can't be too careful." He called over his shoulder. "Who's got the Black Flag?"
"Don't you dare!"
"What's the problem? We're not here for dragonflies."
"If we can catch one, it will be just as important as capturing the beast."
"Not to Burger Triumph, Incorporated."
"Need I remind you that I'm the scientific leader on this mission?"
"Yeah, but I'm the bankroll. What I say goes. We push on."
King shoved past Nancy Derringer and took the lead. He walked with one hand rubbing his jaw absently, but Nancy knew that was a precaution. If the dragonflies got close, he was going to cover his big mouth. Nancy prayed for dragonflies in the thousands.
But the dragonflies flashed away in three different directions, like prehistoric helicopters.
The giant frogs were the next surprise.
They had been squatting, sides throbbing, in the rank grass of a small pond of standing water.
As one approached, it hopped once, landing in the middle of the road. It rotated nervously until it faced them with its unblinking bulgy eyes. Its throat pulsed like a great green heart torn out of a monster's chest.
"What the fuck is that!" King said hoarsely.
Ralph Thorpe came up, rifle in hand.
"Hah! It's an effing Goliath bullfrog!"
"It looks like the effing mother of all toads," King groaned.
"Aw, don't get your knickers tangled up, Mr. King. It's only a bleedin' frog."
"I don't like the way it's staring at me. Shoot it."
"No need to go to all that bother." Thorpe hefted a smooth flat stone in the frog's direction and it bounded away with a spastic kicking of its hind legs.
"See? There. Nothing to it, what?"
"I hope you'll be able to hold yourself together when we locate our quarry," Nancy said pointedly.
King said through his uplifted hand. "Hey, I had a bad experience with frogs when I was little."
"Oh? Did one eat your fly collection?"
King frowned. "The girls on my staff don't talk to me like that."
"Hire women next time."
King's frown deepened. They trudged on. Further along, he snapped his fingers and said, "PMS! Am I right?"
And it was all Nancy Derringer could do to keep from wheeling and slapping him silly.
The hurrunk cannonading through the green trees dispelled her anger like a breaking fever.
"What was that?" King muttered.
Nancy closed her eyes and seemed to be beseeching lurking jungle gods. "Oh, God! Could it be? Oh, please let it be what I think it is."
King's dark eyes went wide. "You think that's the sound it would make?"
"No one knows. There is no fossil record of natural sounds."
"Thorpe! Fetch that native guide."
The Bantu guide came padding up. He was tall and lean with a narrow wise face that looked ageless. Except for his Burger Triumph T-shirt, he might have been the genus loci of the rain forest.
"Ask Slim if that's the sound N'yamala makes," King demanded. Thorpe addressed the native in his own tongue. The man gesticulated and ended up pointing at King, while spitting out a sparse sentence.
"What'd he say?" King asked excitedly.
"He asked that you not call him Slim," Thorpe translated.
"Why not? It's only a nickname."
"Slim is what the city blacks call in English, AIDS. Tyrone doesn't savvy American-style English very well, but he recognizes the word. He doesn't like it."
"Is everybody having a bad day?" King muttered darkly. "Okay, tell him I'm sorry. Then get me my answer. "
Thorpe and the native fell into a low exchange. At the end, the British guide said, "He says the sound we heard is the cry of N'yamala."
King cupped hands to his mouth. "Okay, look sharp everybody. This is it. We're going to make history. Somebody hand me a trank gun."
"I don't think that's wise, Mr. King," Thorpe warned. "These rifles are not toys."
King pulled the rifle out of Thorpe's hand and said, "You're in charge of policing this ragtag group of natives. I suggest you set the proper example for instant obedience."
And King turned on his heel, rifle at the ready.
Watching him tramp forward, Nancy told Thorpe, "Everything he knows about Africa, he learned from watching Jungle Jim reruns."