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The-Starport

The sw Chronicles (Rewitten)

Tell us about your adventures, amazing stories, wow us with your wit...use your imagination, tell us some of the greatest moments in your life.

Post Mon Sep 06, 2004 4:14 am

Kendo, only one miss spelling and the spell checker got it that way.

Fixed now though.

Post Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:46 am

"stop staggling, don't make me twack you" it's nice to have a large part in a story for once

Post Mon Sep 06, 2004 10:27 am

There is something new and different about this one Fd.... obviously, by choosing a different narrative voice, it is different but I think has done something else as well.
Can't exactly say for sure but since your are writing in the first person, the story flows quite nicely.

Nice going.

<Edit>

This is not meant to cast any criticism on your earlier writing. It is meant to say that this ones reads differently to me in a way that I like.

Edited by - Indy11 on 9/6/2004 11:28:04 AM

Post Mon Sep 06, 2004 11:11 am

Thank you Indy, and your welcome GP.

zlo

Post Mon Sep 06, 2004 11:54 am

A nice story. I'm looking forward to reading more. Still, why did you have to kill those poor pilots? I figure, it was just nobody on TLR to be good enough
First person narrator smacks sth of the 19th century, but nowadays it seems to begging back in fashion again. And, including yourself in a story could be a bit risky - who can judge oneself adequately? However, as I see, you gave yourself a minor role.
In general, I liked the story a lot. It should be difficult to write sth from a woman's point of view.

Life is sexually transmitted

Post Tue Sep 07, 2004 5:55 pm

Near the end of the day, we began to pick up some sticks for the nightly fire. It was easier than testing the luck of having it when we made camp. Nights here were a treat. I loved the night sounds. The insects didn’t bite too much, but the sounds were enjoyable, at least to me. Peter and Mau didn’t like them too much. Peter slept near the fire that night. I think he was afraid a dingo might want to take a bite out of him. He had that terror look on his face as Mustang had told us about them. After getting the fire going, we scrounged for food. Roots that Mustang said was edible, and found in abundance were gathered and cooked. They tasted ok, a bit starchy for me, and in need of salt. I looked forward to the sea again and some fish. I could learn to like the plant life, but truth be told, I was a meat eater in heart.

Sleep came eventually, but I was awaken around midnight by a sound I did not remember hearing before. Michael was on guard that hour. He waved at me as I sat up. He didn’t seem to have heard the sound. I walked over and sat by him as he through another piece of wood on the fire. I reached for a green stick and began to poke at the fire. Sparks flew upward into the night like a fireworks display. Then I heard the sound again. Michael looked at me and said, “He’s back again”. I had an incredulous look on my face.

“You mean to say you knew someone was out there and didn’t say anything?” I asked, trying to keep my voice down. Michael nodded. It took me a while to get out of him what he knew. Michael said he had already seen and talked to the stranger following them. The stranger, Michael indicated, was no threat to them, but was just curious to see people this far from a town. The strangers’s name was Ben. He lived a day’s journey from the plane wreck and had heard us coming. It seemed, that he was responsible for some of our good luck so far. I asked if he was going to continue to follow us, and final nodded yes. It took a bit for me to go back to sleep. Knowing that someone was out there watching us.

Journal entry four : Dawn came to slight over cast skies, and a scent of water in the air. Peter was stoking the fire up a little. He wanted to reheat some of the left overs from last night. Seems the ruffing it was settling in to him, a little. Arch moved near the fire, warming his hands. The nights got a little cool, but the days quickly warmed up nicely. Today, according to the map, we should arrive back at the sea shore. We had a river to cross, but it should be easy enough. I had, though, not forgotten the crocodile incident and would be very careful.

The packs were getting lighter as we used up some of the supplies we had scrounged. We still needed to carry as much water as we could find. Not just for drinking, but for cleaning as well. The brush could be unmerciful at times, so many thorns to tear the skin. I washed the scratches and dressed them as best I could. Mau was quite adept at the medical practices as well.

I longed to learn more in this life, which led me to were I am today. But the truth be told, most men did not like to see a woman in my position. It took even more work to prove myself. And, to a degree, I have. I have articles published on wilderness travel and other studies. That’s why I seem to love it out here so much. The things I see, they fascinate me so much. But, I am now off my subject and back to the hike. I have to laugh at Peter sometimes. He and his city life did not leave him at much of an advantage out here.

Continuing on for the few more hours eventually turned the trail to a river bank. Perfect time to take a break and figure a way across. The flow was slow and gentile. I favored making a raft as the river was at least eight feet deep here and I did not wish to swim in light of the other experience with the crock. I looked for materials to tie a raft together while Mustang set out to catch some fresh water fish for us. Chet and Ed got the firewood together so we could cook the fish we hoped Mustang could catch while Michael and Arch went a little further upstream to get the water for drinking. They were, of course, were warned of the wild life they could encounter. That made Arch happy to no end. The look of gloom on his face was priceless.

Edited by - Finalday on 1/8/2006 6:36:04 AM

Post Tue Sep 07, 2004 7:36 pm

I always new ff was a great big dirty pervert!

Nice story fd, I'll be looking forward to the next installment.

Post Wed Sep 08, 2004 8:21 am

Aw ff ain't that bad, just likes to keep and eye on things.

Post Wed Sep 08, 2004 10:01 am

NIce Fd do you also find that it is easier to write in first person?
And btw, why do Mau have a medical backround? I'm busy on a story where she also have a medical backround lol

Post Wed Sep 08, 2004 3:20 pm

In Mau's case, just a last minuet thing added. First person is easyer, but differeing points of view can be done and i did one, the Star trek type one.

Post Wed Sep 08, 2004 5:17 pm

A it turned out, there was only a small amount of wood to make a raft, so we lashed all of it together and put our packs on it to keep them dry. As for us, we would have to swim. I was hesitant, but with a little patience, mustang was able to help me get past the fear, and we crossed without exception. We had food left over, we wrapped it for later and we also took time to change into some dry clothes. That helped the rest of the day go by faster. Leaches were only a minor problem, but they seemed to like Peter a lot. He used his lighter to get them to let go. Mau wanted to help, but Peter would hear none of it. I wanted to laugh at the site, but, I knew he had his hands full without me adding to his misery.

Two hours later, we could again smell the sea. I planed to take a swim when we arrived back at the coast. Mustang would tend to the fishing. He was quite skilled at it. Ed started to pickup some kindling along the way. I found some fruit as well and picked some to have when we made camp. Looking at this group, I am amazed we have gotten along as well as we have, no that I’m complaining.

A barking sound, or yelp came from ahead of us, and we all raised our walking sticks. Dingos! We moved into a clearing and spotted two of them. They did not seem to be afraid of us. But, to correct that, four of us charged them whooping it up and raising our sticks to swing at them. They skittered away, but soon return to try to nip at us. “Just give them some of the fish” Peter said, “they will eat it and leave us alone”. I just shook my head.

“If you give them any food, they will be back for more” Mustang replied. I picked up a couple of rocks and threw them. One scored a hit and the dingo yelped and ran away with it’s mate behind it. I knew I didn’t want them following us to the next camp.

Finally, the surf could be heard, then seen. There was even a little sandy area, a mini beach. A smile lit my face. We got the fire pit dug and lined with rocks and made a couple of lean-to shelters while Mustang went fishing. I dug into my clothes and pulled out my swimsuit. I ducked into the bushes to change. Mau and Chet headed down the shore in search of whatever they found, arm in arm. Seems love was in the air. Peter and Arch settled back into their discussions when I reappeared and headed toward the surf. Ed and Paul were staring at me as I dove in. When I popped back to the surface, they still were staring. I held my hands out as if to say, What? You never saw a girl swimming before?. They just sat down, watching. I enjoyed my swim. It gave me a chance to stretch tired muscles and exercise. Dinner was an hour and a half later. The fish were a welcome change from the roots. The fruit was sweet as well. Michael moved to were I sat and handed me the water bottle. He moved off to the brush and sat, staring at the sea. He seemed to relax the easiest of all of us. As always, night came and much needed sleep.

Journal entry five : Dawn came as usual. We all woke, a little restless and ready to be gone from here. Water was getting low, so that would be our first priority. We needed it to survive. I said I would go to look for some and Paul and Mau came as well. We headed in an area Mustang indicated should have some water. Peter, got his gear together and wanted to head out on his own. A change from a few days ago. But, Mustang explained the dangers to him, embellishing a little so he would see the error of his ways and stay put.

As I moved toward the location Mustang had indicated, I heard something moving a head of us. I could not make out what or who it was. It didn’t sound like the dingo’s though. Then I remembered the fellow Michael had talked to, Ben. So I called out his name, and Mau looked at me in surprise. I explained what Michael had told me and she was the more amazed. Someone watching them, following them? At that moment, the brush parted and this tall thin man stepped out. “Ben, I presume?” he nodded and pointed the way we were headed and said there was a spring in that direction about one hundred yards. I moved on, Mau behind and Paul following up and got the water. When we returned, Ben was no where to be seen.

Camp was soon packed up and ready to move on. According to the map, the walking would be easier, so we would push a little harder to get an extra mile or two and make up some time. I for one was ready for a hotel room and a hot meal in a restaurant. As for the other, well, we shall see.

Sticks in hand, we worked our way around to thorn brush, nasty stuff. I’ve had my fill of scratches to last a lifetime. Peter and Arch were in second place with Ed bringing up the rear. The sun was a scorcher. But, thankfully no insects to bother us.

A couple hours into the walk, I decided to break for some water. In the middle of the second gulp, I was turned toward the sea. I almost dropped the container. Michael and Mustang turned and asked what was wrong. All I could do was point toward the sea. There, heading away from us, were two tall sails. The craft moved quickly in the stiff breeze, by the time we started to shout and wave, they were on the horizon. Disappointment was all around, but the most vocal was Peter. He could not believe we let him down and had not caught the attention of the boat so he could get out of here. Mau and Chet looked ready to turn on him, but Arch managed to get Peter calmed down and quiet. The others had all ready had enough more than enough of his complaining.

Mustang decided we could use some good news, so while pouring over the map, he said, “Listen up people, that boat was a very good sign.” Paul looked over Mustangs shoulder to see what was up. “The ship must have come from the port town where we’re headed, there isn’t any other even near on the map”. I asked what that meant in relative terms.

“It means, we have about one day’s walk left to reach the port” he replied. That was good news to me. I looked around, but Michael was gone. I asked if any had seen him, but no one had since before the ship was sited. I started to go look for him when he appeared from the brush with someone in tow. The others did not know what to make of the stranger. None but myself, Michael, Mau and Chet knew of him and who he was.

We gathered the equipment together to see what we had left, after all, with one day’s walk left, we were almost home. I guessed the time to be about four o’clock in the afternoon when we got ready to continue. Michael took the lead, and Mustang brought up the rear. The new man was near me and Michael. Mau was still curious why he was here. But, we started off in the direction of the port. Strange to have someone else with us now. But, it gave some, a new topic to talk about.

By seven o’clock, we decided to make camp for the night. Mustang went fishing again and I tagged along to learn some of his techniques. It was a treat to learn new things. I was going to hate leaving here, as odd as it sounded.

Later, after cooking the fish Mustang caught, mine were a little too small, we had our fill. We soon got ready to turn in. Mau sat beside me and tried to find out what I knew of the stranger. I was not at liberty yet to say what I knew, but I did tell her, I didn’t think we had anything to fear. She and Chet slept near their own fire and Peter and Arch stayed near their own as they returned to their discussions. Seems they never get finished with it. Ed sat near the main fire whittling on his walking staff. Michael and the man sat a ways off talking, about what, I do not know. Paul pulled a book out of his bag and sat reading by the fire light. A novel I think. Me, I sat in deep thought, wondering about this adventure. So much had happened, but it seemed to be turning out alright. Still, there was a day left and more travel when we reached port. I may just catch a ship back to South Africa rather than trying to fly back.


Edited by - Finalday on 1/8/2006 6:37:28 AM

Post Wed Sep 08, 2004 6:24 pm

Ah, the powers of fiction. Here I am going about roughing it and not a single mosquito bite

Hey Taw, by any chance, is your really real name Archibald Leach?

Edited by - Indy11 on 9/8/2004 7:24:23 PM

Post Thu Sep 09, 2004 6:15 pm

urnal entry six wn came in an overcast sky, the smell of rain in the air. We looked at today as the last day here and soon reach freedom of civilization. I got my gear packed and looked around. Michael and the stranger were gone. I was a little alarmed because of what I knew. I got the others on up and said to eat so we could get the show on the road. As we readied ourselves, he and the stranger returned. He introduced Ben to everyone. He explained who he was and why he was there. He also explained that trouble was ahead. He let Ben continue the story as he got his gear together. It seems a large pack of dingo’s were between us and the port and we would have to defend ourselves to get there.

We all started looking pale. But, we asked what they could do and how would we get there. The two choices were to fight through the dingo’s or take the long way around which would add and extra day, but without water to drink. Not the best of choices. We all pretty much agreed, the long way with no water was a bad idea, but then, so was the straight way. We opted for the straight route. For once Peter didn’t complain. But seemed up for the fight. We would prepare some spears as well as our walking sticks.

By the time we heard the first one, tens were near us, trying to nip at our heels. We swung spears and staffs, striking heads. They seemed to replace one for everyone we hit. Peter managed to spear a couple that the others then turned on. That gave us a small break and we hurried on about another hundred yards till the next battle. Again it was the strike and spear tactic that worked best, but by the time we ran again, we were getting tired. At the next stop, Ben pulled a little item out that had a cord attached to it and proceeded to unwrap it.

The sound it made as he swung it over his head was odd, but did not seem to bother the dingo’s. “What’s that suppose to do, put them to sleep?” Peter asked with sarcasm in his voice. After about five minuets, we had out answer. Natives in the area were throwing spears at the dingo’s killing several. The others hi-tailed it and took off for safer areas. Ben bowed and waved to the natives who waved back and turned to leave. We didn’t get the opportunity to thank them for their help. The rest of the travel was un eventful, thankfully. We saw the smoke coming from the rise before us, then the aroma of food cooking and knew we had arrived. The port spread before us, and the best site of all, two ships to catch a ride home on. But first, I wanted a room and a bath. Exhaustion began to take over and I wanted nothing more than to sleep. When we reached the Inn, Ben had secured us rooms for the night and went to check on passage on the ships. He had done so much for us.

After I got an hours sleep, someone knocked on my door. How I hated to get up, but was glad when I did. Michael, Ben, and Mustang were there. Mustang explained what I had not known of ff and his help. It seemed that they knew each other and some how, instinct, ff knew where to find us. Any way, he knew the route we were taking and followed incase we needed help and at the end, he knew of the danger and wanted to help, so he contacted his friends the morning we had noticed him and final missing. How glad I was. I thanked him and said if I was ever back here, I would look him up. He thanked me and left.

Mustang told me I would be leaving on one ship and the rest would be on the other as they were going in opposite directions. I knew then, I would miss them all. Friends made and hopefully kept. Paul and Ed promised to write. Mustang said I would be welcomed back any time. I wanted to thank Michael, but he disappeared. I never found out what happened to him. No one saw him leave and he was not on either ship when they sailed. This was an adventure I would remember for a life time. My journal would help me recount the story for others one day. Now though, time to put my pen down and get ready to leave the ship. We are arriving at South Africa. Home at last. As for me, well my name is Sara Whitaker, though I prefer to go by the initials SW, and these are my Chronicles....

Journal entry, closed.

Edited by - Finalday on 1/8/2006 6:38:50 AM

Post Thu Sep 09, 2004 6:55 pm

THE END!

Post Thu Sep 09, 2004 7:47 pm

Clap clap clap clap, most enjoyable read FD. Well done.

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