A recent trip to China generated discussions of
giant pandas. It was discovered that far from being cuddly pets, they are of
the bear family and can be aggressive and dangerous.
This resulted in the following fictional story from the imagination of Ken Windsor.
The Bamboo Jungle
The stony ground was patterned by the
flickering shadows of bamboo leaves as they fluttered in the light of the
setting sun. Mist was forming on the valley floor as Jiang tenderly touched
Liwu’s cheek and their lips met in a fleeting kiss.
“I must leave!” Liwu broke the embrace
and moved towards the path down the slope.
“I will wait a few moments before I
follow. We don’t want the elders to find out about us yet.” Jiang sighed with
desire as Liwu departed.
Liwu waved as she disappeared into the
shadows shrouding the path to the village.
Yuntang grunted and scratched his furry
belly as he awoke from his sleep. Weighing two hundred kilograms, he was large
for a wild panda. He rolled over onto all fours, raising his head sniffing the
air for signs of danger. He shambled a few paces in the crisp mountain air. His
limbs were stiff from his sleep. He could sense other creatures moving in the
shadows but none exuded the scent of danger.
Many metres above to Yuntang’s left,
Liwu carefully picked her way along the path towards her home. She gingerly
placed her feet on the track so the sharp rocks didn’t penetrate the thin soles
of her sandals. Her hands occasionally pushed aside a bamboo growing across the
path. She was thinking of Jiang as she walked. He was a good man. He was better
than most of the men in the small, isolated mountain village. His father farmed
a small plot of land that sustained his family. His small herd of goats
flourished in the harsh land and provided many of his needs, food, milk,
clothing and a small bonus when he could barter a young kid for other
necessities.
Jiang would take over the small farm
when his father was no longer able to work. Liwu was pleased with herself. She
had been secretly meeting Jiang and their friendship was developing into a
courtship. Soon though, they would have to tell their parents. Her step down
the
path became lighter as she thought of the prospect.
Yuntang shuffled up the slope looking
for fresh bamboo shoots to satisfy his hunger. He stopped at a small stand of
bamboo and pushed his snout into the centre. Two young shoots rapidly
disappeared between his chomping jaws. Shaking his head from side to side, he
withdrew from the plants and grunting with each step, moved further up the
slope.
Liwu continued down the path thinking of
the formalities ahead. When they declared their courtship, under the ancient
Chinese ritual, Jiang’s parents would have to approach her parents with a
request for a formal meeting. If the meeting was granted, which it almost
always was, there would be bartering from both sides to extract the best
possible outcome for both families.
Yuntang found a long, thin clearing
bordered by great clumps of bamboo. He ripped off several stems and sat on his
haunches, almost human-like as his strong jaws and razor-sharp teeth ground the
bamboo to a pulp.
Liwu was light-headed as the path made a
detour around a large rock outcrop. She stepped around it with her head full of
wedding plans and the twittering of birds, disturbed by her passage. Too late
she saw the huge black and white creature within touching distance. She
screamed and raised her hands in horror.
Yuntang was just as startled − in a
reflex action, generated more by fear than aggression, he lashed out with his
huge paw. The rapier-like claws ripped across the girl’s midriff. The twittering
of the birds and the bear’s growl of alarm were the last things she heard.
Yuntang, panicked by the sudden disturbance and the girl’s scream, turned and
blundered through the jungle to escape.
Jiang, a few minutes behind Liwu heard
the scream and broke into a run. He rounded the rock outcrop and saw Liwu’s
torn body. Comprehension was immediate. He saw Yuntang’s path through the
jungle. Sanity was driven out by revenge and he rushed headlong onto the
panda’s track.
Yuntang only ran fifty metres or so and
his fear was overcome by the instinctive urge to eat. He stopped and sniffed
the air, the foul stench of the human was gone; he resumed foraging for food.
Jiang could hear Yuntang moving and
grunting as he ripped off bamboo shoots. Without coherent thought, Jiang picked
up a fallen branch and rushed towards Yuntang.
Yuntang, once again caught by surprise,
raised himself to full height on his rear legs and lunged towards the charging
man. As Yuntang came down above him, Jiang pushed the end of the branch into
the panda’s open, drooling mouth. The free end of the branch dug into the
ground and the force of Yuntang’s charge drove the branch up through his pallet
into his brain.
Jiang stood triumphant as the bear
rolled in its death throes.
The adrenaline drained from Jiang’s body
and reality struck like a huge hammer.
Jiang fell to his knees, his head in his
hands.
He emitted a drawn-out, soulful wail.
“Oh Liwu!” His tears ran between his
fingers and dropped onto the stony ground.
