The Trials of Sir Peter - Part Deux

While all the shootin', spear chuckin', and dyin' was going on, the two pygmy leaders were lifting a beaker or two of "Old Zebra Sweat" and getting their mini-legions cranked up for some good old fashioned Euro-bashing.

In no time at all, the Ankyl- and Ne-Bytrs were set for a real spearin' good time and set off in search of the remains of the White Man's incursions. By the time they got to the German side of the trail, there was little to be done as the Krautkins had already split and only the WaCurli tribe (looting the leftovers) and a neighboring group of dangerous looking amazons from the WaTootsie tribe were in the vicinity. (Trying their best to look haughty as they trampled the jungle underfoot while being chased by 3 of the nastiest tempered gorillas this side of the mist.)

On the Sir Petey side though things looked a mite more promising. Sir P was bashing about the bundu trying his best to reorganize his troops all the while being hounded by the mighty warriors of the WaMoe tribe. These skillful tribesmen had followed the scattering askaris into the bush and one by one were slicing and dicing the leftovers. In the resultant melee Mumza Dawurdi, valet and faithful gunbearer to our hero went down in a flurry of spears and feathers. No more will he be at Sir Peter's side - liter of Beefeaters in hand!

Before one could spell anti-disestablishmentarianism (?), the Anklbytrs joined in the fun. Poking and prodding whatever they could find, the little firebrands whittled the hapless askari into mincemeat. Twas not a sight to make the powers of Whitehall smile! When the dust settled, not an intruder was left standing, not even our beloved Sir Peter - but more of that in a bit!

Back at the confluence of the trails, the foul Force Privat and the smarmy Sir Lorelin Hardee were basking in the spoils of their efforts. When the written report of the events would become public (at least Hardee's version of it), a hue and cry would be raised in the Houses of Parliament and at the Kaiser's court! The man in the street would be as demanding of retribution as after the Gordon debacle! The natives must pay! The gold must be claimed in Sir Peter's/Herr Hasenpfeffer's memory! Invade the Dark Continent! A new scramble for African riches must begin.

With thoughts of the chaos to come, Hardee gathered up Olivier and his butterfly net (specimens included) and marched his troops off into infamy!

As we noted above, not a European was left alive from Sir Peter's expedition - or so it seemed to the gathered natives! But in the flurry of flashing spears and feathered headresses, no one noticed that Sir Petey had disappeared! What had become of our hastled hero?

Noting that all was lost, and his ever-devoted Mumza nothing but vulture-munchies, Sir P did what any self-respecting man of adventure would do. He grabbed the sarong off the nearest unwary camp-follower, plastered mud all over his exposed skin, took up a water jar, and posed as just another native troopette! Even Gunga-Din wouldn't have recognized our "hero-ine"!

Thus it was that later reports of Sir Peter's demise were greatly exaggerated. For, over the next 6 months, Sir Petey managed to pull off his disquise amongst some of the scarriest tribes in the jungle environs. All the while taking copious notes and keeping them close on his person, Sir Peter would publish his findings in a best seller on his triumphant return to civilization - but unfortunately only after the launching of punitive expeditions from London and Berlin. And so the saga of Sir Peter will continue anon.

The events which followed those avenging armies will be covered in other Gaslight chronicles soon to be appearing right here on our hero's personal website!