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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1424133
The hunter is back in another adventure this time in India.
The Great White Hunter Meets The King of The Cobras

June 3, 1978 I had come to India to guide an environmental expedition, but just before meeting up with the team of hippies I went to check out a local market.  While browsing the local wears I over herd a pair of hunters telling a small group of people about a giant cobra that guarded a temple atop a mountain nearby.  After listening for a moment I butted in and asked where the temple was.  They said it was only a day and a half hike over the mountain.  I asked why no one else had discovered the temple if it was so close to a city.  They remarked that others had made it to the temple but had not escaped it's guardian.  This was quite a tale, and I had to check it out for my self.  I decided to abandon my previous engagement and set out the next morning.

I got up early the next morning packed food water, and plenty of ammo for my luck rifle potshot.  I also packed my desert eagle, which I had yet to name but I was considering "Loco Pero".  I was pondeering this name after seeing the nasty work it made of the Mexican drug lord, Loco Pero.  I rented an elephant and set off over the mountain.  I quickly discovered that the terrain was more severe than I imagined.  To make things worse the rainy season was still in swing making rough travel all the less bearable.  After nearly a day of travel I abandon the elephant and most of my supplies and set out on my own.  This decision may seem brash, but to a seasoned fields men such as myself finding food was no concern.  And I quickly discovered I made better time with out that lumbering beast.  I used my machete to cut through the forest growth, while I made better time it was tiring work. The sun was setting, and I grew ever more tired. I knew I needed to find a safe place to set up camp. 

I found a good place to make camp near the summit of the mountain.  I would have food from the fruit trees, and being at the top of the mountain, I need not worry about being buried in a landslide.  I gathered a medley of fruit for dinner.  Built a fire to keep me warm, and ward off insects.  Lastly I built a fire lean-to, which I covered in leaves to keep me dry.  It was crude but enough to last me for a night.  I ate the fruit and settled down for the night when it started to rain again, this was the fourth time to day.  As I sat I herd something over the sound of the rain.  I could tell it was near by, but I could not decide what it was.  It was difficult to hear over the rain, so I listened for a few minutes.  I decided it was definitely a man made sound, possibly a drum.  But who was playing it?  It was too stormy out to check, and I was too tired to care.  I drifted off to sleep in a few moments.

The next morning I was awaken by a pungent odor.  You may ask how one can be awaken by an odor?  You must remember my instincts and senses are sharpened to super human levels, so I may match my skills with the deadliest creatures in the world.  I opened one eye just enough to make out a man crouching next to me.  I knew I had no time to load a gun so I reached for my machete only to see the old man beat me to it.  He held up the machete and examined, "What do you plan to do with this?"  He enquired as the sunlight reflected off of the blade and into my eyes.  "Who are you and why have you disturbed me?"  I furiously enquired.  "Now, now.  Clam your self that is no way to talk to an old man.  And may I also inform you that you have invaded my home."  I remembered the drums from last night he must have been their player.  Who was this old man with such extraordinary reflexes, I was still surprised he beat me to the machete.  He then stood up, his bones cracked, and he grasped the small of his back.  "Follow me."  He then walked off virtually disappearing in to the brush.  I leapt up and followed after him.

I caught up with him as he entered a small cabin, a shanty really.  I followed him in.  inside I was greeted with tea, he asked me to sit.  I took a seat on a worn rug and drank his homemade brew.  "Let me tell you a story that has been passed down by wise men for many generations."  I was intrigued so I asked him to continue.

"Once there was a man who owned a profitable plantation, he was good and honest and he had worked hard his whole life to earn what he had.  The time of the harvest grew near, so he went out to check on his crops.  While walking through an orchard he was jumped by a monkey that mauled him and bit off his left ear.  The next morning he did not falter, again he set out into his vast orchard.  This time he was jumped by a large baboon that brutally beat him, and violated him, and gnawed off his right hand.  The next morning he did not falter he set off into the orchard once again.  This time there were no monkeys or baboons.  There was a tiger that killed him."

I pondered the story for a moment, and then remarked "is this a joke?"  I then stormed out of the shanty and back to my campsite.  Where I packed up and headed on to the temple.  The old man shouted "heed my words" as I made my way down the mountain.

I pushed on through the jungle ripping off leaches, and drinking the juice from vines.  After dredging through the treacherous jungle for hours and fighting off several tigers.  I reached an ancient stone road I knew the temple was near.  I carefully made my way down the road, but it was getting dark so I decided to sleep in a hollowed out tree and get up early tomorrow morning.

I got up late the next morning and washed in the river.  I then had a breakfast of eggs I snatched from a nest and some mysterious fruit, which gave me excessive diarrhea.  I realized the day was ruined and settled down early intending to get up early the following morning.  The next morning I rose early and skipped breakfast and headed off down the road. 

I quickly discovered the temple, in front of it was a giant snake basking in the morning sun.  it was nearly forty feet long, I had only once in my life seen a larger snake, and recalled that as a heralding adventure.  Of course that is a story for another time.  How could I deal with this snake, I had a rifle, a pistol, and a machete.  The machete was dulled and useless as a weapon, and I had lost all my ammo save a few rifle rounds in the jungle.  I would have to make my seven shots count.  I decided to move in closer.  It was a risk, but it should increase my odds of landing a fatal shot.  I carefully slid down the bank of the hill, it was about half way down when my foot became entangled in a vine and a flopped over on my stomach and lost my rifle.  I knew I was in trouble the moment I fell, but when I picked myself up I found the giant cobra looming nearly ten feet over me.  At this distance I realized it's body was as thick as mine, and that it could swallow me in one gulp.  I held still so as to not excite the snake.  I realized I was in a tight spot as the snake bore its saber-sized fangs, which dripped with buckets of venom.  One advantage I had was that the potency of the venom of snakes decreased with their size.  So the venom should not be deadly, but as I looked at the snake again I remembered my earlier thought that it could probably swallow me if it wanted to.  I kept still, the snake seemed to lose interest.  Suddenly a elephant charged out of the bush and trampled the snake.  I was surprised to see it was my elephant from earlier, it had returned just in time to save me.  I dug around the under growth and recovered my rifle.  I headed into the temple and found a sizable treasure, which I loaded onto the elephant.  I took what the elephant could not bare and carried it in a sack slung over my shoulder. 

As I returned to the village the elephant ran off into the wilds of the jungle never to be seen again.  It took the majority of the treasure with it.  Once I returned to the town and made my way to the airport I was confronted by the owner of the elephant, who demanded payment, my treasure grew smaller.  I was then confronted by my former expedition party, who had set off in to the wilds without my guidance.  During their expedition they had lost 22 members.  They demanded a refund, and with that my treasure was almost gone.  At the airport I used even more of the treasure to by tickets home.  I was now left with only a necklace.  It was abruptly seized by a Indian government archeologist.  So I went home with only another story to tell, and a giant snakeskin, which I used to wallpaper my entertainment room.
© Copyright 2008 Andrew Smith (a-smith at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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