Like most Senegalese tribal villages, the Djambulu encampment consisted of two rows of windowless rectangular huts with a big clearing in the middle. But some features were strictly part of the Djambulu tradition. For one thing, the village was laid out on an east-west axis, which divided it like Chicago into a north and a south side…The huts themselves were unusually large and ornate, with walls of palm stems and leaves woven together in time-honored geometric designs and gabled roofs thatched with palm fronds. Each hut had two doorways with very high thresholds, one in front and one at the side, with a cylindrical silo in the back for storing grain.
The Djambulu people were as beautifully built as their houses, and bore the same geometric designs carved into their flesh. The women, especially, were adorned with profusions of ornamental scars on their foreheads, cheeks and breasts. Their only clothing and that seemingly reserved for the higher born caste of women was a length of brightly colored raffia cloth that they wore tightly bound around their slender bodies from waist to knee.
The black complexions of both Djambulu men and women had a peculiar ruddy cast, because their bodies were covered with red ochre the Max Factor of tropical Africa. It was these curious ruddy faces, and those of several wide-eyed children that Doug and Penny Glasser awakened to find staring into their small, well-guarded hut through the opening of both doors. The two P.A.I.G.C. soldiers stationed outside of either entrance, attested to the value of the catch, and had first alerted the curiosity of the ringing crowd. Then, forcing its way through the crush of human flesh at the front door, the young couple recognized the face of their captor, Da Silva.
"Good morning," the big sergeant beamed, "I brought you some breakfast." He turned and made a waving motion with his hand. "This is Danielle," he explained, as a tiny black girl bearing a large bowl of fruit pushed her way into the hut behind him. "She is Mgoro, a captive like yourselves and King Jabavu's youngest wife."
The young girl, as black as midnight and of extraordinary grace and beauty, bent low to place the basket of fruit at Doug and Penny's feet. "Enchante," she smiled shyly.
"She speaks French," Da Silva continued needlessly. "She's been to Paris, too…she will assist you during your stay here."
Penny nodded politely and managed a small smile of her own. It was obvious that the shy young girl was well-mannered, and most likely educate4 as well. "Enchante, Danielle," she returned.
Da Silva fumbled in the pocket of his fatigues for a cigarette, then extended the pack to Doug as if he hadn't even raped the man's wife the night before. "I have good news for you," he informed him. "I have talked to the King about you and we have decided to let you deliver our demands to Major M'Bonu yourself."
Doug looked confused. "Major M'Bonu?…You know him?"
Da Silva's smile broadened. "He is the one who drove you to Mgoro with four soldiers, no?" A sly wink. "We know much, my friend. You even stopped for beer at the Jungle Bar in Liberta, did you not?" Doug nodded dumbly. "What do I say?" "Good! You are very intelligent for a white man!" "What do you want me to say!"
"You will tell the truth. You will say that we are holding your wife. that she has been raped and that you fear for her continued existence." He reached back into the pocket of his fatigues and produced a folded sheet of paper. "Tell the imperialist Major that we will exchange the life of your wife for the lives of the men whose names appear on this list."
Doug unfolded the paper. "B-but," he stammered incredulously, "there are at least thirty names on this list!"
"You'll have to be very convincing, won't you!"
"W-what are you going to do with Penny?" "She will be well taken care of," the sergeant winked. Then, straightening, "Come, Danielle, we will let them eat now."
Doug heaved a heavy sigh as Da Silva and the young African girl pushed their way back through the crowd, leaving him and Penny to themselves. "Penny.., Penny, I'm sorry," he managed. The young wife smiled bravely. It's okay, Doug I'm alright, really." Somehow, she didn't sound very convincing-not even to herself.
As her memories came into perspective, she was rocked with the horror of what had happened of what she had allowed to happen, without real resistance or much effort to preserve her natural dignity. She had allowed herself to be fucked silly-and by two black strangers! She had actually begged to be fucked…to have them squirt their hot seed into her white body!
It was disgusting, but even now, in retrospect, the memory stimulated her and she could not hold down the wave of excitement that passed over her.
"M-Maybe I should tell them to go to hell," the young husband offered.
"Oh, Doug…don't. They'll kill you! They'll kill us both!"
"But I can't leave you "
"I'll be all right, Doug…I-If they hurt me they won't have anything to bargain with." She turned her head away in uncertainty, deliberately avoiding eye-to-eye contact.
Doug swallowed tightly. "I-I guess we'd better eat," he said, reaching for the basket of fruit.