Mungai and the Goa Constrictor

After many days of searching, without finding a single soul who was disposed to join them, they decided to go beyond the jungle, and across the open plain, to what turned out to be a very pretty wood.  Here, they assumed, they would find lots of obliging little woodland creatures to entice back to their jungle, in order to attain their goals. This, thought Mungai, is going to be s.o.o.o. easy. He knew the woodland creatures would be easily led and open to suggestion.

Their plan of action was to find those most useful to them, by watching from a high place, where they could not be seen themselves. So they chose a very tall tree, shimmied up it, and waited.

One of those observed and selected was a small bird they heard called Swallow Bustle. So named, it turned out, because he was always whizzing around at great speeds trying to please everyone at the same time. He also seemed to have a lot of fine feathered friends with well feathered nests, dotted within the trees nearby.  Mungai and Goa found this most alluring.

While Goa hung there in a trance, imagining how many feathers she could hoard, and how quickly, Mungai moved to a lower branch. From there, he saw a small gathering of animals on the ground below. Unexpectedly, and to Mungai’s delight, they were joined by Swallow Bustle.

Amongst the group, Mungai quickly noticed a badger. A real brute, but useful and easy to fool he hoped; alongside the badger, stood a hare.  Of course, Goa didn’t care what kinds of animals were in the group. That sort of information was not important to her. Meat was meat. However, Mungai knew it was useful to know of other species, and their capabilities, so he could assess how best to use them to do his bidding, and to select the right scent.  He hoped, in this case he had, and moved back up to Goa’s location higher in the tree.

Mungai pointed downwards with his paw. “Now this is what I mean. These ones will provide an excellent start to our new venture.” 

The thought of soft feathers and others to slave for her, was too much for Goa.  She was so excited; she started slithering around and could not stop. She slithered so much that she slid right out of the tree and fell into the midst of the woodland gathering below.  Out of sheer shock, Mungai leapt after her.
CRUNCH! CRACK! BANG!  He missed not a single branch.

The creatures on the ground were all terrified. That is, all except the badger, the hare and Swallow Bustle.  They were all curious.  As woodland dwellers, they had never dared to go into the jungle, which is where they were sure these outsiders had come from.

“Hello,” said one of them shyly.  “I’m Bodger and I’m a badger.”

“Hello,” said Mungai rather boldly as he shook himself. “I’m Mungai, and I’m a stranger in these parts. And this,” he continued pointing to his right, “is Goa.”

The others remained silent: The animals, because they were still a little afraid, and Goa, because she had barely recovered from breaking Mungai’s fall.

“How do you do,” said Bodger, noticing a tempting smell of pine nuts surrounding Mungai. 
“May I introduce you to some of my friends? This is Swallow Bustle, and this is P.J., and these are some of our other woodland acquaintances.”

“How do you do,” they all said in unison. 
“How do you do,” replied Mungai.

The pleasantries continued until Bodger invited them into his sett for some sustenance, along with a few other creatures that enjoyed having underground afternoon tea.  Mungai ate heartily.  Bodger proved to be an excellent host.  He was gracious and attentive, and provided lots of good things to eat, though not much appealed to Goa’s meaty tastes and she remained hungry.  She just could not help herself. With every mouthful Mungai took, Goa glanced sideways at P.J.  She had always been very partial to hare. Thankfully, she put all her food thoughts into a little box, and put the box away, remembering Mungai’s views on ‘the usefulness of the lesser species’.

They all continued to talk for some time. They discussed this and that, and who else lived in the woodland, and how far Mungai and Goa had travelled.  Mungai drew the conversation around to more food, and how he had found so many other good things to eat on his travels. Goa started to salivate again.

“Box – box – box,” she kept telling her thoughts. “Get back in the box.”

“Thank you Bodger,” said Mungai. "That was almost as good as jungle food."

“Almost?” questioned P.J.

“Well yes...we do have a greater variety of green stuffs at home...meats too, for those who care for them,” replied Mungai enthusiastically.  Then not wanting to seem rude he added. “But that was excellent.”

He glanced quickly at Goa to make sure she had not lost control hearing the 'meat' word.

“What sort of variety?” asked Bodger.

“Well, you know...lettuce and spinach and things, and different sorts of meats, like lamb and beef,” answered Mungai.
“Never heard of them!” Bodger was puzzled.

“They're quite exotic you know, and really delicious to taste,” said Mungai.

“What else do you have, that we don't?” Swallow wanted to know.  "Is there anything we'd like?"

“I like what we already have,” put in P.J. “Why would we need different things?”

“Twy them,” added Goa. “Diverthity ith always refwething.” 

“Twy... diverthity...refwething?”  They all looked at each other quizzically.

“Our lives are full of good things.” Mungai continued. “We have things to keep us warm and dry, and wonderful lairs and burrows to sleep in.”

“And medicineth for thothe who are thick or injured,” piped up Goa again, thinking this to be suitable bait for those misguided enough to care about the welfare of others. “And”, she added conspiratorially, “we never have to hunt for ourthelveth.  All we do ith laze awound all day in the thun.”

“How's that then?” P.J. was getting curious.

“What are medicines?” interrupted Swallow.

“These Swallow,” said Mungai. “Are things you do swallow. Sometimes they are slippery like water or milk, and sometimes they feel hard and round, like berries.  Sometimes they taste good, and sometimes they taste bad, but they nearly always make you feel better.”

“Now let me answer P.J.'s question,” said Mungai.  “What we do, is we exchange things with others. They have what we want, and we have what they want. It's simple...we swop. It means we enjoy a far better way of life, and have lots of other things, not just food, to ease our burden and make our lot simpler. Hard work is not always the best thing as a long term option.  Work a while and harvest the rewards, I say.”

“I want to know which creatures you swop with!” said Bodger. 

“Some in the forest,” said Mungai quietly.

The little creatures were intrigued.     
                                                             
“The forest!  Speak up Mungai.  We can't hear you.” Bodger sounded quite irritable.

“Yes, the forest,” Mungai repeated, somewhat louder this time.

“And what are these things you exchange?”  Bodger quite sensibly wanted to know. “And what do you make them out of?”

“If you want to join us, I'll show the things we’ve already made, but I can't do this unless you come to the jungle.  As you can see, we didn't bring anything with us.” said Mungai with conviction.

Now Bodger was an extremely amiable and hardworking badger.  He hunted between dusk and dawn, and, after a short nap, worked most of the day, to provide for his mate and their young family. He was always open to genuine and worthy suggestions of advancement within the community and beyond, but he also knew that no-one got anything for nothing.

“What would we have to do to experience this life of yours?” he asked.

“I'm afraid I don't think you would adapt very well to the laws of jungle life, any of you,” said Mungai, throwing down a thinly disguised challenge. “It's such a shame, because otherwise you'd do very well.”

“Well, I think you're wrong.” retorted Bodger. “Tell us more, and we'll tell you how well we'll adapt to the laws of jungle life.” Even Bodger was beginning to think this might be something to firmly grasp, and not to let pass by.

“Alright, alright, I didn't mean to offend anyone. I was just concerned about your safety. The thing is, it's a bit eat or be eaten. You have to know how to look after yourselves,” said Mungai.  “Why just the other day...”

“Are you intwested?” snapped Goa impatiently, before Mungai could finish.             
         
“Oh yes,” they all cried, trying to get used to Goa’s odd contributions.
     
The animals excused themselves for a while, and huddled together under a nearby tree to discuss what they had heard.

“Ask if we can join them Bodger.  This sounds like such a good thing.” Swallow had clearly been convinced.

“Yes, yes,” the others echoed. “We all want to go."

“If there are no dissenters, we may as well enter into discussion with them,” declared Bodger with authority.

No-one disagreed.

They returned to Mungai and put their case forward.     
               
“Only if you’re absolutely sure you can survive in there, and be happy so far from the wood,” said Mungai.

“But thince we will be helping you to impwove your lives, tell us what can you bwing with you to help uth?” Goa wasted no time in getting down to the basics.

“Oh,” said P.J. “Do we have to bring things. We only have ourselves.”

“Well, perhaps you could make things for us as a contribution, and your rewards will come from the things you make.”

“That sounds fair,” said Bodger, which more or less sealed the deal.

The question of what was made, and what from, went unanswered, but since a happy agreement had been reached, nobody mentioned it again.   
                                                                                                                   
“Now then,” replied Mungai.  “First things first:  before we can do anything, Swallow Bustle and his friends must fly north to the jungle and feather all our beds, so that we’ll be more comfortable.  And we must be comfortable after all!”

“Oh, but of course,” Goa gushed.

“But it’s rather a long way north for us to go and live,” Swallow grumbled.

“No Swallow, you won’t be required to live there. In fact, it would be better if you remained here with your winged friends, and kept visiting us from time to time to re-feather our beds,” Mungai oozed convincingly.

“What a brilliant idea.  I think I’d be really useful from here,” Swallow agreed.

“And you Bodger; I would like to put you in charge of the others. You give them a small reward now, as a token gesture, and I’ll reward you, in return, twice over…as soon as I can.” 

Mungai’s attitude sounded very positive.

“Well, that sounds most satisfactory,” Bodger declared haltingly, and started to think of the small lifelong collection of treasures he might have to part with, as a 'token gesture’.

Mungai and Goa bedded down for the night with the woodland animals, and they all agreed to return to the jungle together.

Mungai’s days in the company of the two-legs had altered his perception of life, and he was determined to have what he thought was his rightful share of the benefits. He was satisfied he had convinced the animals of the practicality of his scheme. They, having been seduced by his tales of all things good, things that they did not really need in the first place, had made the decision to join him. Bodger's decision had been based on the fact he had liked the smell of Mungai.  Pine nuts were always a reliable staple, Bodger had mused. As a result, he had felt sure Mungai could be trusted.