DesiGuru's World

There were no few wonders in the ancient realm of the Phantom, and in the weeks and months that followed, Kit was to see and hear many of them. First, the Cave itself contained amazing things in those rocky chambers he had glimpsed ever since he crawled about on all fours. There was the chamber filled with fiery flashes, called the "minor treasure room." Here, there were many chests, some open, some closed. The open ones were filled to the top and often overflowing with red, green, blue, and white stones, and with yellow metal discs of all sizes. These were gold, he was told. The colored stones had names: diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, pearls, and others. They were also called gems or jewels. Some of the chests held cups and dishes of gold, and there were hundreds of rings with colored stones to be worn on the fingers, and yellow necklaces and bracelets-ornaments with the colored stones-to be worn on arms, ankles or around the neck.

Kit played with the heaps of jewels and gold coins, building castles and walls and pits, as a child does with sand in a sandbox or on the beach. He told Guran about the gold and jewels. Guran pondered for a moment and asked, "What is it for?" Kit didn't know, and passed on the question to his father, who explained that the gold- also called money-was used by people to buy things like food and clothes. The ideas of buying, and money, had to be explained, and this was all strange to Kit, for food and clothing were to be had for the taking in the jungle. "What do you use it for?" he asked. His father explained that he rarely had any need for money, and that the gold of the treasure room was used in the endless battle against evil. "V/hat is evil?" Kit wanted to know. "I'll tell you about that another time," his father answered, standing up. "And the bracelets, and the rings, and the jewels?" Kit started to ask. "People-mostly women-like to wear them, to look pretty," he answered, walking out.

Kit noticed that after a few hours of questions like that, his father always went out for a walk in the open air. "But dear," he overheard beautiful mother saying one night, "you must answer the child's questions. Be patient." "Patient?" his father said. "I answered at least three thousand questions today. They're endless." As Kit dozed off he heard his mother's voice saying, "How else can he learn?"

How else? The next day he asked, "Where did you get all this gold and colored stones?" His father sighed, and answered patiently. "It was all here when I was your age," he said. "It's been piling up for centuries." He explained that his ancestors had on occasion done favors for rulers-kings, princes and emperors-and the grateful rulers had heaped presents upon them. "When an emperor or king gives you a chest of gold, it is impolite to refuse," he told the boy. Kit passed this lesson on to Guran the next day, gravely informing him that if an emperor or king ever gave him a chest of gold or jewels, he must accept it as it would be bad manners to refuse. Guran promised to remember.

Next to this chamber was another one that his father called the "major" treasure room. He remembered this place with some qualms. This was where he had dropped the shining cup. Now he learned that it was a drinking cup made from a single diamond. It had been made for an emperor named Alexander whom some people called "the Great," his father told him. "Was he great?" Kit asked. "He conquered most of the world," father replied. "Most of the world! He was great!" exclaimed Kit. "That all depends on who is writing the story," father said. "He invaded other countries, like Persia, burned down their cities, killed their kings and warriors, made slaves of their women and children, and stole all their treasures. Does that sound great?" Kit shook his head. "Not to the Persians," he said. "Exactly, it depends on who is writing the story," agreed his father.

"Now take this whip," he continued. It was an old leather whip with small metal stars on the ends of the thongs. "This belonged to a man called Attila the Hun. He lived long ago, and his name has come down to us as a bad, evil man, a barbarian, a destroyer. Do you know what Attila did? He invaded other countries, burned down their cities, killed their kings and warriors, made slaves of their women and children, and stole all their treasure. Who does he sound like?" "Like Alexander the Great!" shouted Kit.

"Darius, the Persian, whom he conquered was no different," continued his father warming to the subject. "Alexander the Great, Darius the Persian, Attila the Hun, Caesar of Rome, Hannibal of Carthage, Napoleon of France: all gang lords leading their hordes of mobsters to loot and kill." So ended the history lesson for that day. In later years, when Kit studied history at a school, he realized that his father had unusual opinions about history, and practically everything else. But then, he was an unusual man.

There were other rare things in the major treasure room, which was actually a small museum. A dead viper floated inside an ancient green flask. "The asp that bit Cleopatra," his father said, and told him the story of Egypt's famed queen. Two great swords hung on the wall encased in glass. He took them out carefully and let the boy feel them. They were too heavy for him to hold. "This one is Excalibur, the sword of King Arthur. And this, Durandal, the sword of Roland. In their day, they were thought to be magic swords, and perhaps they were." He told Kit the stirring tales of the heroes, England's Arthur and France's Roland. Near Durandal hung an ivory horn, also the horn of Roland, on which he blew his dying breath.

There were other things: a golden laurel wreath that had rested on Caesar's head; a curly black lady's wig that had been worn by an actor playing the girl's role, Juliet, in the first production of the play Romeo and Juliet. He was to hear more of that wig another time. Inside another glass case was a musical instrument made of bone, the lyre of an ancient blind poet named Homer. And much more. "Does this all belong to us?" Kit asked in wonderment. His father shook his head. "These things have come to us through the centuries by various hands, for safekeeping. Because of wars, fires, floods, volcanic eruptions, thieves and vandals, many such treasures of old have been lost forever. We are the guardians of these things for all people."

In another chamber, hanging behind sliding doors, were row upon row of clothes such as his father wore. "These were worn by my father; these by his father; these by his father, and so on and so forth." It did not seem strange to Kit that all these men of the olden times had worn skintight suits and hoods and masks like his father wore. Except for the pygmies, who wore loincloths as he did, Kit had never seen another man except his father, so he assumed that this was how all other men dressed.

In another chamber, there were shelves with big heavy books on them. His father often spent time writing in one of these books when he returned from one of his mysterious missions. These books, his father explained, were the chronicles of the Phantom and added that he was too young to know about them now but that soon he would know. Kit was not curious and did not object. He knew what books were about, spelling and grammar and arithmetic. Dull. He couldn't dream of the excitement and magical adventures in these huge dusty volumes.

Outside the Cave, there were even greater wonders. Riding bareback on his little pony, which he named Shaggy, he would canter on the jungle trails with his father, mounted on the mighty black stallion, Thunder. And he was taken to some of the secret places. First, there was the Whispering Grove where they spent a night sleeping on the ground. The wind that blew through the trees made a peculiar sound. It was almost as if it were saying Phantom-Phan-tom. Others had noticed that sound and had another name for the place: the Phantom Grove. Jungle folk avoided it, for the weird whisper of the wind in the trees frightened them and the place was said to be haunted.

Not far from the Whispering Grove was the ocean, and a hidden cove. This was the Golden Beach of Keela-Wee, said by many to be the most beautiful place in the world. Behind it was a backdrop of thick jungle and distant mountains. Ahead was the vast, rolling, green and sapphire sea, with sharp coral reefs that prevented even small ships or boats from reaching this hidden beach. The beach itself was unique and extraordinary. This Golden Beach of Keela-Wee was the color of gold because half of the sand was actually pure gold dust. In the center of the beach was a small hut made of carved green jade. Father explained that this golden beach and the jade hut had been a gift to a seventeenth century Phantom from the great black emperor, Joonkar. Since then, every Phantom had spent his honeymoon night in this jade hut on the Golden Beach. But they were not the only ones.

The great and friendly tribes of the Wambesi and Lion- go lived in the nearby jungle. Each spring, they held mass weddings on the Golden Beach. It was to see this that his father brought Kit there on this first visit. When they arrived, the mass wedding was in progress. Kit watched in fascination. These were the first people he had ever seen outside the Deep Woods. There were about two hundred couples on the beach. The pretty brides wore gay sarongs, and flowers in their long black hair. The young bride- grooms wearing loincloths, also had necklaces of flowers.

When Kit and his father rode upon the beach, the couples were kneeling, facing two priests who wore bright red robes and waved yellow banners as they performed the marriage rites. All heads turned to see the man and boy, and all smiled at the sight of their friend, the Phantom. The rites continued. Then the couples, hand in hand, leaped into the sea, laughing and shouting, then returned to the beach and rolled in the sand. When they stood up, they were all the color of gold, for the golden sand stuck to their skin.

Then each couple, hand in hand, walked through the small jade hut and this passage completed the ceremony. The couples dashed off into the woods. The golden sand on their bodies was a symbol of their recent marriage, and they refrained from washing it off as long as possible. For days afterward, one could see golden couples moving happily through the woods, laughing and singing and playing.

After they had all left the beach, Kit and his father walked into the jade hut. It was intricately carved, and the sunlight shone through the tiny lace openings, making intricate patterns of light and shadow on the jade floor. The little hut was like a huge hollow gem. "I spent my wedding night here with your mother," his father told Kit, "as did my fathers and their wives before me. Someday, you will marry and bring your bride here." Kit looked at him with wide eyes. "Who will I marry?" he asked. His father laughed. "Don't worry. You'll find her. Or maybe she'll find you." He couldn't know how prophetic these words were.

Kit raced across the golden beach and leaped into the sea. He was a good swimmer, but his only experience had been in cool jungle pools and swift streams. The warm salt water was a surprise. He frolicked in the clear calm water, diving down to the sand bottom, and then swam through the gentle surf to the great coral reefs where the waves from the sea broke with a roar and a shower of foam. He cut himself slightly on the sharp coral, then swam back to the beach and rolled in the golden sand as the bridal party had done. Now, covered with gold, he ran laughing to the jade hut and entered it as his smiling father watched. "Now, I'm married," he shouted.

The Whispering Grove had been tingly and spooky. The Golden Beach was beautiful. But the greatest thrill was yet to come. The Phantom's Garden of Eden.

They rode for a day and night through the jungle, near the ocean shore. Then they came to a high bank overlooking a broad river that ran from the jungle into the sea. Across the river was a green island, heavily wooded, with a white beach. Beyond the island were the roaring breakers of the ocean. Kit and his father climbed a big tree on the bank. That was fun in itself. Near the top, he saw that two heavy ropes stretched from the tree, high above the river, to a tall tree on the island shore. One of the ropes slanted downward from the tree they were in; the other rope slanted upward. Following instructions he put his arms around his father's neck and held on tightly. A short rope was passed around him, tying him securely to his father's chest. "Mustn't fall into the river, it's filled with piranha," he was told. He learned later that this was a dangerous fish. His father grasped a heavy iron ring that hung from the rope. "Here we go," he said. And hanging onto the ring, they slid swiftly down the rope and so crossed the river. Kit looked down at the brown and green water far below. It seemed so inviting and peaceful. But what lurked beneath the surface? Piranha? They reached the other side, and this was the strangest and most exciting of all the things Kit had yet seen or even imagined in his short life.

As they climbed down the tree on the island beach, some animals were waiting for them. Kit stared. He couldn't believe his eyes. There was a giraffe, a zebra, and an antelope. And a lion. And a leopard. And a tiger. And they were all standing together, peacefully waiting. Kit knew about lions and leopards. He had seen the big cat his father had killed in the Wambesi village. He looked at his father with sudden fear, still tied to his broad chest. His father smiled. "Don't be afraid. They are all our friends," he said. He dropped to the sand, and untied Kit. Instantly the animals pressed gently against them, nuzzling them, grunting, and whinnying. The big cat purred. The lion and the tiger rubbed against his father's legs, their backs arched, purring like giant housecats. It was all he could do to hold his balance, for this tiger weighed about eight hundred pounds. The lion was almost as big. The leopard was content with Kit who quickly lost his fear and rolled on the sand with the purring velvety cat.

Then he walked along the beach with his father, the animals galloping and racing around them, clearly expressing joy at their arrival. On the ocean side of the island, the water was cairn as a pond. A quarter of a mile out, the waves broke over sharp coral reefs that protected this lagoon. The lagoon itself was alive with fish of all sizes, some four or five feet long. As they watched, a long canoe approached. Several natives were paddling. They reached the lagoon and dumped live fish into it from large pots. Other larger live fish, tied in nets and pulled along underwater by the canoe, were released in the lagoon. The big cats bounded into the water, thrashing about as they chased fish. Soon they came out of the water, carrying their catch in their jaws. The Phantom waved to the fishermen who waved as they paddled away. "The Mod," he explained. "The best fishermen of all the jungle folk. They keep this lagoon supplied with live fish for the cats. I raised them to eat fish and to catch their own. That is why they can live with the grass-eaters and not harm them."

It all seemed natural and normal enough to Kit as his father explained it. He watched the tiger tear apart a fish as big as Kit himself. An antelope nibbled delicately on grass a few feet from the tiger's great jaws. The giraffe stepped over the lion, also busily devouring his catch, to reach the leaves of an overhanging branch. An elephant broke through the brush and trumpeted his welcome, then knelt, as the Phantom stroked his trunk.

"I brought them all here when they were babies-cubs, and fawns-and taught them to live together. Kit, do you remember Fuzzy and Stripes?" Kit stared at the lion and tiger. He had a vague memory of rolling on the ground before the cave with the little cubs. So this was where they were taken when they were too big for him to play with! "Stripes, Fuzzy!" he cried, starting toward them. The cats raised their huge heads, their eyes blazing. His father held his arm. "Never go to them while they're eating. They must be treated with care."

When the big cats were not feeding, they were as docile and playful as when they'd been cubs. But his father took care that the play did not become too boisterous. Both Stripes and Fuzzy stood patiently while Kit climbed on their backs and hugged their necks. His father straddled Stripes and sat Kit in front of him. "How about a ride?" Kit nodded gleefully and they were off for a canter across the beach on the great tiger's back, Fuzzy and Spots trotting alongside to join in the play. The cats were not their only playmates. Flap-ears, the elephant, knelt obediently at Kit's command of "down, Flap-ears," and he toured the little island on the broad back. Even Slim, the gentle giraffe, stood by, patient and long-suffering, while Kit enjoyed his game of climbing a tree and sliding down the long spotted neck. Kit raced through the high grass with the antelopes and rode the skittish zebra.

His father taught him how to catch live fish with his hands in the lagoon. This required standing motionless in the warm clear water until an inquisitive fish swam too close. Kit lost quite a few of the slippery fish that squirmed out of his hands, but he was finally able to hang onto one, and bore his catch in triumph to his watching father on the sand. They built a little fire on the beach and cooked their fish while the great cats lay near them, watching, and blinking. Behind the cats stood the antelopes and other horned grass-eaters, with the zebras and giraffe. In the background, Flap-ears watched, occasionally pulling up a trunkful of grass and stuffing it into his red mouth. All the animals were fascinated by the bright fire, but none came too close. His father had cooked here before and they had learned to avoid the bright plumes of flame.

One morning, his father took one of the big fish from the lagoon and carried it to the river side of the island. There, as Kit and the animals watched, he tossed it into the river. The big salt water fish had barely hit the surface when the water around it foamed. Small shapes leaped at it, seemingly in a fury. The water boiled with red blood, then all subsided and cleared. The small creatures-foot- long fish-darted away, and the large salt water fish was now only a skeleton as it sank to the shallow sand bottom. Kit stared, shaken by the violence of the attack. "Piranha," his father said. "The river is thick with them. That's why no animal from the other side ever crosses to this island. And these animals have learned to stay out of the river." Kit noticed that all the animals, including the big cats, had recoiled at the sight and sound of the attack. Some had hissed or grunted. He also noticed that none of them came too near the water's edge. "You'll be coming here often in the future. Never forget the piranha," his father said. He never forgot.

They spent two days and two nights on this enchanted island. During the day, his father spent hours training and retraining the animals to various word and signal commands. Kit watched with delight as the animals responded, lying, sitting, running, fetching, staying, and a variety of others. He was watching an expert animal-trainer at work. There was never a harsh word used; only kindness, patience, and rewards of food when a lesson was well- learned. Kit could not know that generations of Phantoms had developed their own techniques for handling animals of all kinds, and had passed their knowledge down to each succeeding generation. These were the lessons that Kit was receiving now, and there would be more. He would never forget them.

At night, they slept on the beach, on pallets of grass. Overhead were the blazing stars. Kit began to learn some of their names, to distinguish between planets and stars, and to learn something of their nature. He learned a few of the more prominent constellations, Orion the Hunter, the Seven Sisters of the Pleiades, the Big Bear or Big Dipper, the Little Bear, and others. He learned to find the North Star and to know that falling stars in the sky were meteors no larger than pebbles, or they might be meteorites as big as a house!

Now it was time to go. Kit protested, unhappily clutching Fuzzy's mane. "Mother's waiting for us and she will worry," his father told him. Almost tearful, Kit said good-bye to the animals, hugging each one in turn. Fuzzy, Stripes, Spots, Flap-ears, Slim, and all the rest. Then as the animal host stood in a circle around the big tree, the boy and his father climbed up to the ropes. Once more he was secured to his father's chest and clung to his neck. With a last look at the circle of watching eyes below, his father grasped the ring on the return rope, and they sped across the wide green-gold river. Looking down, Kit now realized the danger and violence that lurked under those calm waters.

They reached the thorn corral, where Thunder and Shaggy greeted them happily. They raced back on the jungle path, passed the Golden Beach of Keela-wee, passed the Whispering Grove, had a quick dip in a cool jungle pool, and then on. Soon, they could hear the distant roar of the waterfall. They were near home. A pygmy, bow and arrow in hand, rose silently out of the bushes to greet them, then another. They were at the edge of the Deep Woods. Other pygmy warriors appeared out of the thickets, laughing and shouting, and Kit shut his eyes and clung tightly to Shaggy as they raced through the waterfalls. Then came the roar of a hundred Bandar to greet them, the Skull Throne and Cave, and beautiful mother waiting with open arms.

Excited and happy to be home again, the boy couldn't wait to tell her about his adventures. He skimmed quickly over the Whispering Grove and the Golden Beach, for Eden was fresher in his mind. Bubbling and dancing with joy, he told her about Stripes and Fuzzy and Spots and all the rest, and about catching fish with his bare hands. But, to his amazement, his mother turned pale. "Fuzzy, Stripes, Spots? How big are they?" she asked in a strained voice. "This big!" Kit shouted, measuring off a ten-foot space. He started to go on, but mother, after one horrified and quick examination of his little body, rushed out of the Cave. Kit was puzzled. He ran after her. She reached his father at the Skull Throne.

"You took that child to Eden, with that full-grown tiger, and lion and leopard?" she cried.

"It was quite safe, dear. He enjoyed it," said his father calmly.

"Enjoyed it?" she fairly screamed, quivering with rage. "He could have been mangled, killed."

The pygmies watched from the background with wide eyes. This was an unusual moment in the Deep Woods. No one had ever shouted in anger at the Phantom. In later years, Kit was to meet many girls and women, and some would be shrill or hysterical for various reasons, but he never forgot his father at this time. His mother was so angry she had lost control of herself, beating with her tiny fists on the broad chest of the masked man who towered a head and a half above her. His massive arms enclosed her, drawing her up from the ground, carrying her toward the Skull Cave like a child.

His voice was deep and calm, and she was suddenly quiet, as they entered the Cave.

"He was quite safe, dear. He enjoyed it."

cntd.