Living Among The Kilitoki free porn video

Manhood Rite
byfictitious©


*** Warning: This is a long story, with a plot that slowly builds up. The actual sex happens towards the end. If long stories aren't your thing, then please beware.

*** This story is fiction and all characters are of legal age (18 years of age or older).

- Chapter 1 -

"I'll see you in twenty minutes." Zoe hung up the phone and, mop in hand, looked at the kitchen floor of her flat. Half of the tiles were sparkling white, while the other half had a dull, dusty look to them. She dipped the mop back in the bucket and began untying her apron.

"Peter! Peter! Come over here!" she yelled out turning her head towards the living room where the television was making excessive noise.

Several moments later, Peter shuffled into the kitchen barefoot.

"Careful honey! The floor is still wet over there," warned Zoe and she watched Peter nearly slip on the damp tiles. "Peter, I need to drop by the office and have a quick chat with Doug. I'm going to have to ask you to finish mopping the rest of this."

Peter glanced at the floor and quickly estimated the size of work. "Oh, um... but I'm watching my show, mom." He had a hint of begging in his tone.

"Peter, you've been watching TV all day, while I've been cleaning the house. You could have, at least, asked me if I needed help. It's one show after another for you, isn't it?"

Peter didn't feel like being chastised, thus he nodded solemnly and reached for the mop.

"At least put some shoes on," instructed Zoe pushing past her son on the way out of the kitchen. "The floor better not get dirtier either. Oh, and when you finish with the floor, could you wipe down the counters too? Thanks, son!"

Peter scowled -- his relaxing afternoon was turning into a pile of chores.

As Peter shuffled off to get some shoes, Zoe hurried down the hall into her room. She changed into more suitable clothes and looked out the window. Gray clouds were covering the sky and it was anybody's guess at the chance of rain. She decided to arm herself with an umbrella, just in case.

On the way out, Zoe peeked into the kitchen where Peter was keenly working the mop over a row of tiles. She smiled -- Peter did good work once he warmed up to it. With that thought, she marched out of the door.

The office of the local branch of the European Humanitarian Association, or EHA, was located in the heart of the city. As Zoe walked down the familiar street, she scanned the clouds for any immediate threat of rain. With a flick of her wrist she opened the umbrella and positioned it above her. At this pace she would reach the office in about fifteen minutes, and the sooner the better, since the early fall chill was beginning to make its way under her thin, gray coat.

While walking, Zoe was wondering what it was Doug, her boss, wanted to talk to her about.

"I want to talk to you about this in person, if you don't mind," he said to her on the phone. He wouldn't even tell her what this was about. Zoe loved surprises, so she didn't press him further.

When she reached the office, she folded the umbrella realizing that rain never fell.

"Hi Mary!" she greeted the receptionist at the front desk.

"Hello Zoe. Didn't know you'd be coming in today."

"I wasn't planning on it, but Doug wanted to chat about something."

"Ah! He's in his office."

Zoe nodded, took off her coat and hung it up on the wooden coat rack. She took a deep breath, turned the nob on Doug's office door and peeked her head in.

"Hi Doug. May I come in?"

"Of course, my dear! Did you get rained on?"

"No, you can say I got lucky. It looks terrible outside."

"I know. I shouldn't have asked you to come down here. I keep forgetting that you don't own an automobile."

"And I keep telling you that not everyone is as privileged as you," said Zoe with a playful cock of her head.

"I know darling, but when you get to be my age you forget things." Doug paused and stared out of the window, watching the wind whip the fallen leaves into a restless dance.

Zoe looked at the old man and almost felt bad that she made him bring up his age. Doug was in his early seventies but still too stubborn to retire. He's been with the EHA for over forty years and claimed that there was no one competent enough to succeed him. It was a fact. Doug was a great boss, he was understanding, reasonable and knew more than anyone about the affairs of the Association. He was just one of the many reasons why Zoe loved her job.

"Doug? What was it you wanted to talk to me?" Zoe spoke up when it seemed that Doug had forgotten about her.

"Oh dear, I almost forgot." Doug turned around and smiled warmly. "Zoe, you might have heard me talk about a certain affair in Africa for quite some time."

Zoe nodded.

"This morning the confirmation finally came back from the headquarters." Doug walked over to his big, wooden desk and rummaged through some documents. "Here is the official project description," he handed several documents to Zoe and continued: "There's a limited-contact tribe in Zimbabwe that needs our organization's help." He paused and looked at Zoe, who was trying to skim the contents of the documents. "Since you are my most trusted agent, I thought that I would present the opportunity to you first," he finished.

Zoe's eyes shifted from the documents to Doug. She had a faint smile on her face that was growing fast. Of course, she knew about this assignment. It has been the talk of the office for quite some time. Ever since she learned about it, Zoe's been hoping that it would go through.

"Oh Doug, this is wonderful! You know that this is what I love to do. Thank you so much!"

Doug couldn't help but grin like a fool. "I know Zoe, but I wanted to see that face when I gave you the news myself. Just imagine a year in the African jungle, bonding with the indigenous people. How I wish I was young again, so I can take this job myself."

"I've been telling you for years -- retire and move to Africa. That way you can always be where your heart is."

"I know. I should, but that old hag of a wife of mine won't move anywhere for all the diamonds on Earth. But enough about that. I'm sure you're very excited and I've got some phone calls to make. That's all I needed you for." Doug winked. "Go on! Go home and read over the briefings."

Zoe thanked Doug five more times and then practically flew out of the office. She headed straight to the cafe around the corner and, once she had her latte, she settled into a booth to read over the details of the assignment.

This was the assignment Zoe had been waiting for. Sure, it was nice to help third-world countries from behind a desk but it was nothing like a hands-on experience. Twice since college, Zoe got a chance for such work -- once in Peru for a few months and once in West Africa. Such assignments usually consisted of living among a tribe or a community and teaching them modern skills like preserving food, fighting off disease, and basic education. Of course, every time she ended up learning a lot herself.

The air was warm and stuffy inside the cafe. Zoe removed her coat and unbuttoned her sweater. "A whole year in Zimbabwe with a limited-contact tribe," she thought. "This will be wonderful. I could teach them so much."

The assignment was to begin in a month. Zoe sipped her latte as she was trying to think of all the things that needed to get done before the trip. And, of course, there was Peter. Zoe could ask Aunt Ella to let him stay with her for a while. She smiled. She could already hear Peter protesting in terror. He just loved Aunt Ella so much!

Peter was just about to finish his studies and Zoe could see if he wanted to come with her. Sure, it was for a whole year, but it wasn't that unusual in her line of work. Often times employees took their whole families with them on such assignments. However, it was up to Peter to decide whether he was willing to come or not.

While thinking about such things Zoe noticed a young man looking at her from a nearby table at the cafe.

What the man saw was an uptight-looking woman hunched over some papers. She appeared to be in her mid thirties, but her skin was pale and smooth, which made it difficult to judge her true age. Her dirty-blond hair was neatly tucked behind her ears and her brown eyes quickly flicked back and forth along the pages. She wasn't especially attractive. Her simple clothes and lack of make-up denoted that she didn't care much about looks. Yet there was something about her. She seemed to have that sort of classy, ageless look to her. The man's eyes wondered lower and he saw the unbuttoned sweater. He caught a quick glimpse of a cleavage that promised ample breasts beneath.

Zoe watched his eyes and realized that they have trailed below her neck. She looked down and saw that her sweater was unbuttoned a little too much, and showed a little more than she had intended. She pulled her sweater shut and looked back at the man, who was once again reading his newspaper.

Zoe buttoned her sweater up and returned to her reading. She didn't show it, but she secretly enjoyed the stranger's glance. She rarely received much attention from men. She blamed it on the rainy weather -- she could never wear the clothes that showed off her best features. In truth, Zoe was a modest woman and she never felt the need to expose more flesh then necessary.

Zoe thought back to the times when she used to wear nothing but summer swimwear and visit the beach often with her friends. That was another time, another place and she was much younger then. Being a single, working mother was a busy life, and vacations were rare and in between. However, she finally felt like all her hard work was about to be paid off.

"This assignment will be the greatest thing that has happened to me in a while," Zoe though. "Warm weather and sun will do me good. God knows I need a good tan."

After leaving the cafe Zoe headed home to break the news to Peter. She reached her flat and knocked loudly on the wooden door. After a few brief moments, the lock turned and Peter opened the door.

"Hi honey!" Zoe announced stepping through the door.

"Back so soon?" mumbled Peter with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Don't you look happy to see me. Did you clean the floor and the counters?"

"Yes mom," answered Peter returning to his seat in front of the television.

Zoe took off her coat and shoes and walked over to inspect his work. Everything looked satisfactory and she decided that she would cook something special tonight. After all, Peter would have to make a big decision soon.

Once the chicken, the mashed potatoes and the salad were prepared, Zoe set the dining room table. She was a vegetarian herself. It was her way of keeping in shape and in good health. However, Peter enjoyed a good piece of meat and Zoe didn't feel right to force her habits onto her son. Though still scrawny and not quite as tall as boys his age, Peter was growing up to be a real man. The fact that he never cleaned up his pubic hairs in the bathroom and left incriminating, crusty socks under his bed, was somewhat frustrating, but Zoe figured it was only part of his male nature.

Peter didn't seem to have any real friends. Big part of that was because they've moved several times in the past five years. It fell to Zoe to fill in as his best friend as much as she could. They usually talked freely about all kinds of stuff, except when it came to girls. Every time Zoe tried to bring up girls, Peter would quickly change the subject or end the conversation.

"Peter, dinner is ready!"

Peter showed up in a flash -- he was always hungry.

"Mmm, it smells great." Peter came up to Zoe and gave her a light kiss on the cheek, as was customary in their home. Peter piled on some chicken and potatoes on his plate and sat down.

"Get some salad too," Zoe instructed.

"Mom, I don't like salad."

"I know, but you need to eat it to get all the vitamins."

Peter frowned, but he knew he should comply. He forked over the minimal amount of salad to keep his mom happy and proceeded to devour the chicken.

Zoe fixed her own plate and sat down in a chair opposite her son.

"Peter, I wanted to talk to you about something," she began.

Peter made an acknowledging noise while chewing on a mouthful of chicken.

"It's about my work. I've been offered an assignment in Africa. Zimbabwe to be precise."

Peter stared at his mom, still chewing, not quite understanding.

"It's a year long assignment."

Peter slowly finished chewing and swallowed.

"I was thinking you could come with me," Zoe countinued.

"To Africa?" asked Peter thoughtfully. "For a year?"

"Why not? You're almost done with your studies."

"Africa is far," said Peter scratching the back of his head. "Do they have TV there?"

"Listen, if you don't want to go, that's fine. I'll talk to Aunt Ella. I'm sure she'll be happy to have you stay with her..."

"Uh!" grunted Peter, scowling. "Right. So, what would I do in Africa?"

"For one, you can finally see what my job is really about," Zoe smiled. "We will live with a local tribe that has limited contact with the outside world. You'll get some sun and fresh air, learn how to live outdoors, mingle with the natives, make some friends. Who knows, maybe you'll like it and follow in my footsteps one day?"

"Friends?" Peter seemed suddenly interested.

"Yes. I'm sure there will be boys your age there. Don't worry, you'll fit right in. Tribal people love foreigners. To them you'll be the most interesting, most traveled and most educated person they know. Think of all the stuff you can tell them about!"

Zoe watched her son's reaction and knew that he was intrigued.

Peter nodded his head thoughtfully for a while. "When would we leave?"

"The trip is in a month. Does that mean you're coming?"

"It sure beats staying with Aunt Ella," said Peter and skewered another piece of chicken with his fork. He felt a rising excitement in his chest. He always wanted to make more friends, but people in the city always seemed so unfriendly, so judgemental. Even when Peter hung out with the guys in his neighbor, he felt like they didn't really accept him and made fun of him behind his back. In Africa, it would be different. People were simpler there. They didn't care who had the latest gadget or who was attending some important event. No, in Africa none of these mundane things mattered. It would be a fresh start for him. It would help him escape this lethargic life.

***

The month passed in a flash. With so much to do before leaving, Zoe had little time to think about anything else. Doug had arranged for her flat to be rented by his niece and offered to handle all of the visa and travel paperwork.

By now, Peter had fully accepted the reality that he was going to live somewhere in Africa for the next year. After the initial conversation with his mother, the excitement of the trip settled quickly and was followed by a feeling of anxiety. The reality of living outdoors, with no modern conveniences like running water, refrigerators and TV seemed a little too much to give up all at once. He even considered backing out, but he knew that his other option was Aunt Ella.

Peter also realized that his mother would need his support more than anything. Thus, he decided to make the best of his time preparing for their new life. He began researching as much as he could about Zimbabwe. The vast jungles were both intriguing and terrifying -- with their exotic and dangerous wild life.

On the night before the flight, Zoe and Peter were having dinner together, as usual. Their large backpacks were stuffed with all of the immediate necessities that could be brought, for they decided to only bring a backpack each, since they would have to carry their bags through the jungle. As they ate their last home cooked meal of the year, Zoe kept quizzing Peter about his packing job.

"Did you bring three pairs of shorts?"

"Yes mom."

"How about a raincoat?"

"Yes."

"Sandals?"

"Mom, we already went over the checklist twice. Must you ask me all this again?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, I'm just very nervous."

"Me too, but let's just try to relax and enjoy this dinner."

"You're right. I'll try to relax, though I don't think I can eat any more. I need to go double check and make sure I brought enough shirts."

Zoe pushed her chair back and left the kitchen.

Peter sighed, shook his head and resumed eating. He couldn't quite grasp the reality that tomorrow he was flying to Africa. He tried to keep himself calm and pretend that tomorrow would be just like any other day. He finished dinner, cleaned up the dishes and decided to take a shower.

"This is my last normal, warm shower. I wonder how I will wash myself there?" Peter stood under the warm stream of water. His hand had found its way to his manhood and was slowly tugging at it. He looked down and watched himself growing hard. He ran his palm over his enlarged tip and began slowly stroking his shaft. He closed his eyes and conjured up an image of a scantily clad woman that he saw earlier on TV. The woman was walking towards him, gently swaying her hips.

Sudden knock on the door snapped him out of his fantasy.

"Peter!"

"Yes?" Peter sounded annoyed.

"Did you pack the sunscreen lotion? I can't find it anywhere."

"Yes. It's in the front pocket of my pack."

"Can you please check on it and make sure that it's there?"

Peter sighed. His mother always was a worrywart. It was only expected that she was acting this way before such a big journey.

"Let me finish showering and then I'll check!" Peter hollered. And then to himself he thought: "No more showers, no more of 'pocket pool'."

- Chapter 2 -

The flight was direct to Harare, where they planned to catch a bus to a small village. Hours went by fast as Zoe watched the on-board television and read her book. When they finally landed and exited the plane Zoe quickly realized how warmly she was overdressed. From the air conditioned interior of the plane she hadn't quite anticipated the heat that hit her square in the face. Almost immediately, she began to sweat. She wore safari shorts and a white button-up shirt with a light sweater over it. She knew she had to lose the sweater as soon as possible. Peter followed her out groggily -- he slept throughout most of the flight. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the unexpectedly bright sun.

It was arranged for them to meet with a co-worker of Zoe's. Nakibo was an agent of EHA, who worked remotely in Zimbabwe and other countries throughout Africa. When they reached the airport lobby, Peter followed his mom towards a tall black man.

"Good day Mrs. Hawkins!" said the tall man with a thick African accent.

"You must be Nakibo," guessed Zoe.

"Yes, that is I. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Likewise. It's funny that we've worked together for all these years and never met face to face."

"I would say it is most amazing that we can work together, yet be so far away from each other," said Nakibo. He noticed Peter coming to stand by his mom and addressed him: "Hello, you must be Peter. My name is Nakibo."

Nakibo extended his right hand towards Peter.

Peter shook it and gave the stranger a courteous smile.

Nakibo continued: "I have arranged for the bus to arrive in an hour. Perhaps, you and your son would like to have some refreshments before we continue our journey?"

"That would be great," answered Zoe taking her sweater off. "I'm starving."

"Follow me," said Nakibo, leading the way. "There is a small place where we can get some good food and drink."

Zoe and Peter followed Nakibo to a small shack which appeared to serve as a cafe. The cafe wasn't very busy, even though it was located right outside of the airport terminal and seemed to be the only such place around. As Peter entered, he saw three black men sitting around one of the tables conversing in private.

Nakibo nodded to one of the men and spoke something to the bartender.

Peter tried not to stare at the men, but he was quite fascinated by how unfamiliar they appeared. Even though Peter has seen plenty of people of African descent back home, out here it was different. They were speaking in a strange language that didn't sound like anything legible. Their clothes were simple and looked rather worn, yet there was something captivating about these men. Peter couldn't help staring at them, but they didn't seem to notice -- they were busy looking at this mom. Even when Nakibo motioned to sit down at one of the tables, the men never took their eyes off of her. Peter glanced at her. She was now wearing a white button-up shirt and sweat was beading her skin. Nothing unusual.

"They must have never seen a white woman before," guessed Peter.

The bartender brought out three cups of water and, what looked like, potatoes covered in cheese. The food didn't interest Peter, but he drank the water gladly. Nakibo was the only one who ate the food, while he and Zoe talked about something that was of no interest to Peter.

Peter surveyed the little cafe shack and found it rather modest. "I wonder if that is what we'll be living in?" he wondered. He spent some time looking out of the window at the various people coming and going from the airport.

The bus arrived ahead of time and they climbed aboard into an air conditioned cabin. It was a small bus, designed to carry no more than ten people, and it appeared that Nakibo, Peter and Zoe were the only passengers. As Peter sat down on the leather seat, he realized that he was sweating rather profusely under his clothes. His underwear was clinging to his butt and his shirt was turning a darker shade. His mother sat down next to him and he noticed that her white shirt was soaked with sweat as well, and had became almost see through.

"That is why she's holding her sweater in front of her like that," laughed Peter to himself.

The bus driver loaded up their backpacks and they set off.

The bus trip would take several hours, but Peter didn't mind as he was glued to the the window the whole time. The landscape was unreal -- it was so different from what a European country might look like. Peter had only seen the likes in movies and he was taking note of every detail that his eye could catch. This new and strange country was a lot for him to comprehend. He felt as if he was dreaming a very real dream. He practically woke up to a whole different world. There were dark people and palms, dry grass and blue skies, scorching heat and bright sun.

Nakibo sat a few rows up from Peter and Zoe. He spent most of the time exchanging words with the bus driver in their native tongue. However, once in a while he would turn back and point out to Peter and Zoe a certain landmark.

After about an hour, the little bus turned off the paved road and began bouncing around on a smaller dirt road.

"We will be arriving at the village within two hours," said Nakibo turning around. "We will spend the night and in the morning the guides will take us to the tribe." He smiled and turned back.

Peter realized that his mom hadn't said anything in a while. He turned his head to look at her. She was slouched over next to him and seemed to be asleep. Even in her sleep she was clutching the sweater to the front of her shirt. As the bus bounced around on the dirt road her limp body bounced as well. With amusement, Peter watcher her head slump further to one side. Then suddenly, the bus jolted and her arms, still holding the sweater, fell down in her lap. Naturally, Peter's eyes shifted to the area which was covered by the sweater. It so happened that his eyes rested on his mother's chest.

Soaked, white shirt clung to Zoe's breast mounds. As she dozed off, she had no way of knowing that her son's eyes were now clued to her chest. She didn't usually wear a bra, and today was no different. Thus, her son was treated to a picturesque view of her nipples pressing firmly against a cotton shirt, the shirt that was practically see through after soaking up her sweat.

Peter had never seen any of his mother's private parts exposed before. Curiosity, shock and just plain teenage hormones kept his gaze firmly fixed on the sight of his mom's tits, almost visible through her shirt. Truth be told, Peter had never even considered that his mother had tits. Well, not in that way, not actual tits for him to look at. And now, Peter took a moment to look. From what he could tell, they were large -- by no means were they huge, but calling them medium would have been an understatement. He could see the round, dark circles at the tips of her breasts. They pressed against the cotton material as if trying to break through. The jolting of the bus, kept the mass of her breasts constantly jiggling. He found it hard to look away from such a sight, but a sudden pot hole made him snap out of his trance. He quickly glanced away and looked at Nakibo. The big man had his back turned to him. Relieved that he hadn't been caught, Peter carefully reached down and picked up his mother's sweater. Carefully, and with one last peek, he covered his mother's chest with it.

Nakibo announced that the bus was nearing the village. Peter nudged Zoe several times and she woke up. It took her a moment to register where she was. She looked around and wiped the sweat off her face with the sweater.

Slowly, the bus came to a stop near a small house on the outskirts of a village. The village looked pretty small -- a handful of wooden buildings s**ttered in the valley before the vast jungle.

"We've arrived!" said Nakibo looking back at his two companions.

"Great! When will the guides meet us?" asked Zoe.

"They will come tomorrow morning," answered Nakibo. "We spend the night here. My friend has welcomed us at his house."

They exited the bus one-by-one and took up their packs. Nakibo led the way towards one of the houses. His friend was a jolly man. He didn't speak a word of English, but he made up for it with lots of gestures. Inside of his house, they were given food and drink, and shown to their modest sleeping arrangements.

By now, it was getting dark outside and Peter could barely keep his eyes open after a full day of travel. His mother and him curled up on a small cot, in a tiny little room. Last thing he remembered before falling asleep was Nakibo wishing him a good night.

- Chapter 3 -

In the morning, Zoe and Peter woke up to knocks on the door.

"Good morning!" announced Nakibo when Zoe cracked open the door. "The guides are here. We can leave as soon as you'd like."

"Oh, good. Let's get a move on right away," said Zoe. She was wearing a different shirt, stretchy and dark brown. She tugged at its collar wishing for a shower, but she knew there wouldn't be one any time soon.

After a light breakfast Nakibo introduced the guides -- two local men, who only communicated with Nakibo, but they seemed cheery and nice enough, and would wink and smile at Peter from time to time. After Nakibo held a brief discussion with one of the men, the guides took up Peter and Zoe's backpacks and the party set out into the jungle.

"We will walk through the jungle for a few hours," explained Nakibo. "It will be less hot under the trees. Once we reach the river, we will take a boat all the way downstream to the Kilitoki tribe's location. The trip should take around six hours. Please, do let me know if you need a break, because these men do not stop."

The walk wasn't difficult -- Zoe had plenty of practice in the city -- but she was glad that the guides were carrying their backpacks for them. Indeed, they heat was less punishable under the cover of trees, yet every person in the party was sweating profusely. They all shared a bottle of water and when it ran out, one of the guides produced another one.

Zoe looked over at Peter. He seemed to be enjoying himself. The fresh air and sunlight were definitely something they both would benefit from. The party kept quiet during most of the walk, an occasional conversation amongst the guides breaking up the jungle sounds. The hours flew by and soon they could hear flowing water.

"We are almost to the river," said Nakibo turning around. "Tired yet?" he asked Peter.

"No sir," replied Peter. "This isn't bad at all."

Nakibo laughed and said something to the guides who joined in on his laugh.

Soon they arrived on the bank of the river. It was small, barely wide enough for a raft. The guides pulled out a wooden boat from under the foliage and loaded it up with packs. Everyone climbed aboard and they set off.

They floated downstream slowly and, little by little, the river grew wider. The temperature seemed to cool off once they were floating on water. It was a bit cramped on the boat. The guides were perched at the back, propelling the boat forward with long poles. Nakibo sat in the middle, with Zoe and Peter in the front.

Peter had to squat down and it was very uncomfortable. He tried to reposition himself by turning this way and that, but it was no help. Nakibo was right in front of him and his mom right behind him. He decided to rest his butt against his mom's knees, but ended up sitting down on her. He felt like a little boy sitting in his mom's lap. He looked at the men to see if they'd laugh at him, but they didn't seem to notice. Anyways, it was much more comfortable this way and his mom didn't seem to mind.

Time passed slowly in the lazy heat of the afternoon. Peter passed his time looking for fish in the water and for wild life in the jungle. He saw, what he thought was a wooden log floating in the muddy water, not far from the boat. To his alarm, the log produced two round eyes and in an instant dove under the water. Peter jerked back like a scared kitten. His reaction was noticed by everyone on the boat and then men laughed heartily.

"Crocodiles," said Nakibo, chuckling. "There aren't many of them around here, but they are always hungry."

"Nakibo, I don't know if it's such a good idea to be scaring him," said Zoe. "He's already on the edge from all the information he's dug up on the internet."

Still chuckling Nakibo added: "The Crocodiles fear the Kilitoki. You will be in safe hands, Peter. My people will teach you to fend for yourself even against most fearsome a****ls. That is if you ever become a Grass Warrior."

"Your people?" Zoe looked at Nakibo and squinted against the sun. "I didn't realize you were of the Kilitoki tribe."

"I don't speak of it much," shrugged Nakibo. "Not many of modern African folk take kindly to tribe people and their descendants. In Africa, they call them 'tribe filth'. As if they forgot where they once came from themselves. If you come into society and you come from a tribe you try to keep it in private." Nakibo's cheerfulness seemed to leave him for a moment as he spoke.

"I never realized..." trailed off Zoe.

"It's okay, Mrs. Hawkins. I usually try and ignore this fact, it's just the way African society is now."

"That's very noble of you." Zoe felt like she should add something more but couldn't find the words. Instead she wrapped her hands around Peter, who was sitting on her lap, like she use to do when she read stories to him when he was little.

"Grass Warrior?" asked Peter looking at the, once again, cheerful giant.

"Yes, Peter. You'll have to learn about that for yourself. My tribe has a lot of different customs, traditions and ceremonies. Most of them I think you will like..." then Nakibo looked at Zoe. "...while others may seems strange to you. Just remember that each nation has its customs that shouldn't be judged. Out here, every tribe is its own nation."

Nakibo jerked a thumb at the guides behind him: "Sakali is from Merubu tribe, while Tijik is from Bambooli. Normally the two tribes are always at conflict. These two would never be friends. But since they left their tribes, they realized how petty those conflicts were." Nakibo fell silent and he appeared to be in deep thought.

Peter looked over at the two guides, who looked ahead solemnly. What Nakibo said painted an almost fairy-tale like image of two warring tribes with magnificent "warriors" battling each other. For a moment Peter felt like he was little again, listening to one of his mother's stories, sitting on her lap. He felt his mom's arms tighten around him and felt his back press harder against her. At that moment, Peter thought about the accident on the bus and seeing his mom's breasts through her soaked shirt. He realized that those breasts were now pressed firmly against his back. He felt uncomfortable and tried to shift away from his mom, but she held him firmly against her.

"We are almost there. Just around that river bend." Nakibo pointed forward.

Peter saw the river turn sharply to the left, straight ahead of them. The two guides increased their efforts and the boat began moving slightly faster. In a few moments the boat reached the bend and the guides struggled to turn with the current. Peter looked left and could see into the turn. The river stretched on for another quarter mile before pooling into wider banks. Further downstream Peter could see rocks of various sizes jutting out of the water and he noticed white water caps rising.

"The Kilitoki make their home where the river widens, right before the rapids. The water here is clearer and warmer," explained Nakibo looking into the distance as the boat swung and straightened itself with the current.

"This seems like a nice place," complimented Zoe.

"Yes, it's the nicest place on Earth for me... but I rarely visit here anymore."

"You certainly will visit more now, right?"

"Yes, of course. Like we agreed. I will attempt to check on you monthly," replied Nakibo.

The boat began approaching the left side bank. Once near the bank, Sakali (or was it Tijik?), jumped out of the boat and, holding on, pulled the front end onto the shore. He motioned for everyone to get out.

Peter remained where he was, seemingly frozen. He stared at the shore in wonder -- a few feet of warm yellow sand rimmed by a vast, green jungle, invited him to a new life.

"Come on Peter, get out!" urged Zoe, unwrapping her arms from Peter. Her legs were numb and she had the urge to stretch them. When her son didn't budge, she gave him a firm push. That got him moving.

Peter gripped the sides of the boat, stood up and carefully stepped onto the shore.

Zoe looked up at him -- the boy looked to be in shock. "He's just now realizing that he won't have TV for a whole year," she joked.

Zoe stood up, rocking the boat slightly and stepped onto the shore, getting her boots wet in shallow water. She took a few steps onto the sand and stretched deeply, spreading her arms and arching her back, looking up at the sky. When she released her stretch, she noticed several tribal people looking at her from behind one of the lush plants.

Nakibo noticed her expression and turned towards where she was looking. By now, the tribal have people emerged from the jungle and stood on the sand. Nakibo approached an ancient looking man and hugged him tightly.

Zoe noticed that the old man was skinny and very wrinkly, with long, gray hair that was twisted into several long dreadlocks. There were six tribe people all together -- the old man, and five others, who looked to be in their thirties. They sported bare chests and wore a****l skins to cover themselves from waist to knee.

Nakibo proceeded to clasp shoulders with each of the tribal men.

"The Kilitoki bid you welcome!" Nakibo said turning around. "They are very pleased that you came."

"It's a pleasure to be here," said Zoe bowing her head.

"This is chief Koko'loko," announced Nakibo as the old man stepped towards Zoe.

"It's an honor to have you stay with us," the old man said in perfect English.

Zoe was taken aback by such unexpected surprise.

Noticing her expression the chief smiled. He then faced Peter and looked at him intently.

"Ah, I see a clear resemblance. The small, pointy nose, the clear brown eyes, pale skin complexion, slightly sharpened chin. He's a clear-cut copy of you," said the chief looking up at Zoe.

Zoe giggled nervously. Nakibo must have told the chief all about them.

"I always said, put a blond wig on him and he can pass for me, in my youth."

"He could still pass for you, even now," smiled Koko'loko. He swept an arm towards the other tribesmen and said: "These are my best warriors. I bring them to show you what an honor your visit is to us. Our land is your land now."

Zoe opened her mouth trying to sputter out some polite comment, but Koko'loko suddenly turned towards Nakibo and spoke to him in their native tongue. Then the chief said a few words to the guides who were standing rigidly next to the boat. Whatever it was that he said, brought relief to their faces and they relaxed and began dragging the boat out of the water.

"Come! It is time to introduce you to the tribe," said the chief. He motioned for everyone to follow as he walked into the jungle, helping himself with a long walking stick, which was carved with intricate designs. Zoe followed first, with Nakibo and Peter walking behind. The guides came last, carrying their backpacks.

Peter was still trying to sort out how fast all this happened to him. In the matter of days, he went from his comfortable flat, to a deep jungle forest along the bank of a river. When he saw the tribesmen emerge, he had a feeling like he was in a movie. The chief looked so ancient and magnificent, and when he stared at him, Peter was mesmerized. He was eye-to-eye with someone who he would have never even imagined.

Peter thought he saw something that looked like a little hut behind one of the trees. Suddenly, Peter walked right into his mom and jerked his head back. His eyes grew wide when he saw a plethora of little huts built in a clearing within the jungle. But that wasn't what made his eyes wide. Peter saw a large group of indigenous people busy with their daily life. There were small c***dren running around. Men and women of all ages, clad in cloths, were doing their everyday activities. It was like he was at a museum, looking at an ancient African exhibit, and it happened to come alive.

One by one, the tribal folk began noticing the new comers. They stopped doing whatever they were doing and approached them, gathering in front of the chief. Peter stood by his mom and could count about thirty people gathered together. The tribesmen were curiously regarding him with big and curious eyes.

The chief said a few words and a loud cheer arose. He waived everyone silent and motioned for Zoe to come forward.

"Zoe!" the chief announced as she stepped forward.

Then he motioned to Peter. "Peter!" Another loud cheer broke out.

In the next few moments, people were moving all around them. Women hugged Peter and men greeted him by clasping both of his shoulders. Peter glimpsed Nakibo greet one of the men and saw both men mutually grasp shoulders at the same time. He decided to give it a try, as he began greeting men back.

Indigenous people swirled all around Peter, and he was lost in this surreal scene. The next thing he knew, he was sitting cross legged, eating a pineapple as it was being chopped by one of the tribesmen. He glanced around and saw his mom, Nakibo and the chief speaking amongst themselves not far away from him. Everyone else seemed to have returned to their daily life.

Peter looked at the man who was chopping the pineapple and nodded. The man swung his large knife and chopped off another round piece. He handed it to Peter, who grinned at the man and began eating.

"I see you and Natu are getting along well," a woman's voice, with a thick accent, spoke behind him. Peter looked back and squinted as the sun sneaked its way through the trees and hit him in the eyes. He saw an old woman standing over him.

"Oh yes, he's cutting the pineapple for me. I love pineapple," said Peter wiping the pineapple juice off his chin. "Who are you?"

"I am the Great Mother, the Mother of the Tribe, the chief's wife." The woman sat down next to Peter, folding her legs under her cloth skins. She nodded to Natu, who cut a piece of pineapple off and handed it to her. "I'm also Nakibo's mother," she added before she took a bite.

Peter jerked his head to look at Nakibo. "No way! He's the chief's son?"

The old woman nodded. She waved Natu away and sat quietly chewing on pineapple.

"There will be a great feast tonight, in your and your mother's honor. Tomorrow we will show you how we live -- how we wash, how we work, how we gather food. You know, everyone in the tribe must work. That's how we survive as the community. We'll have to find you something to do, now won't we?"

"But I'm too young to work," protested Peter in his usual habit.

"Really? Too young?" The Great Mother chuckled. "Our boys begin work as soon as they are able, nearly as soon as they learn to walk. Of course the work gets harder as they grow up." She finished her pineapple slice and looked at Peter. "But don't worry, young one, we'll find you something easy." She smiled at Peter and stood up to leave. Then she turned and added: "Oh, and you'll meet your new friends tomorrow."

- Chapter 4 -

The welcoming feast was interesting to watch. There was a large fire, plenty of food, sounds of drums and lots of dancing. Most of the people decorated themselves with paint markings and exotic flowers. Peter and Zoe were seated on two large leaves in front of chief Koko'loko, who sat on the ground just like the rest of his people. Nakibo and the Great Mother sat to either sides of the chief -- their respectably honorable places.

Peter watched the people dance while eating fruits and meats from a large bowl. He tried his best not to look directly at the dancers and instead looked into the fire. It was because the dancing women were bare chested. When Peter was introduced to the tribe, the women wore tops made out of a****l skins, but now it was different. Their breasts were fully exposed and painted with strange designs. Peter could clearly make out the nipples poking though the tribal paint. He didn't want to show anyone that he was bothered by it, so he tried to keep a calm composure. He could feel a stirring in his crotch everytime the dancers passed by him. He couldn't help but enjoy the view of their breasts swinging and shaking with the rhythm. It was exciting. Peter had seen naked women a few times on TV, but never in real life. He didn't want to get a full erection and get embarrassed on his first day with the tribe. Thus, he kept his mind off of the breasts by asking questions to the chief and stuffing his mouth with food.

"How is it that you speak English so well?" asked Peter turning to look at Koko'loko.

"It's a long story, Peter. Let's just say that I once lived in the modern world just like Nakibo."

"Did you teach your wife?"

"Yes, she was a very good student. I've tried teaching other members of my tribe, but they didn't take to it as well as Great Mother."

"Mom could teach them! She's a really good teacher. She taught me everything I know," said Peter excitingly.

"If that is so then we could arrange for a class. If your mother doesn't mind."

"Oh, not at all," chimed in Zoe. "I think it would be a great experience. I've taught some English in Peru."

The adults continued the talk, while Peter became preoccupied observing a group of boys wresting around next to the large fire. The boys looked to be about his age. Two of them where wrestling while two others cheered them on. He wondered if those would be his new friends that Mother of the Tribe spoke about.

The beat of the drums became slower. Peter saw a new group of dancers emerge and begin their dance -- four women and one man. He noticed right away that two of the women had very big breasts. In fact, they were the biggest breast he'd ever seen, especially in the nude. These two women didn't have as much paint as the other dancers and most of their tit flesh was visible. Peter suddenly forgot all about his potential embarrassment and followed the women with his eyes. The smooth, black skin of their heavy, sagging breasts was streaked lightly with white paint. Their large, dark nipples seemed to point directly at him. It wasn't long before his loins reacted to that sight.

For a moment, Peter forgot everything around him, until a nudge in the side brought him back. He looked over and caught a look of disapproval from his mother. Sheepishly, he looked down in his lap, covering the bulge at the front of his shorts. He heard Nakibo chuckle softly and didn't dare raise his eyes for a long time.

"You two must be tired," said Koko'loko at length. "Nakibo, please show them to their new home."

Nakibo and Zoe stood up. Making sure his erection had subsided, Peter stood up as well. He said goodbye to Koko'loko and his wife, and followed Nakibo.

Nakibo led them to a small hut. Inside, there was a large sleeping pad against the far wall. It was made out of, what looked like, woven leaves and soft straw. It was covered with soft a****l furs. Their backpacks were resting against another wall. There was really nothing else to the hut, other than a small table.

After Nakibo left, Peter claimed the wall-side of the bed. Whenever they slept together, Peter would always "claim" that side. Peter pulled off his shirt and dove under the covers.

Zoe looked through her pack and found a few things that she put out on the table. When she finished, she looked at Peter. He was facing the wall, curled up in the a****l furs. It was dim inside -- the only light coming from the bonfire through the little window. Zoe didn't want to sleep in the sweat soaked clothes again. She glanced again at Peter and making sure his back was still turned, quickly pulled off her shirt. Her breasts felt pleasant once freed from the confines of the stretchy shirt. She noticed how the light of the fire danced on her pale skin.

"I really need a tan," thought Zoe, before putting on a loose sleeping shirt.

Keeping her eye on her son, Zoe carefully took off her boots and then her shorts, revealing her light blue panties. The panties were the modest kind -- they covered most of her bum and her front. They were soaked with sweat like the rest of her clothes. Zoe had an exquisite sense of smell and could usually discern the slightest of scents. After the feast, the smells of fire and food were still filling her nose, but she could definitely detect the musky smell of body odor. Whether it was hers or Peter's, she was too tired to tell. She climbed onto the pad and covered herself with the furry covers. She was glad that there was no scent of the long dead a****l that the furs once belonged to. She took a deep, tired breath and looked over at Peter who hasn't moved since he laid down.

"What a day!" she thought before drifting off to sleep herself.

***

The next morning was just like Great Mother had promised. Peter woke up to someone standing over him. When his eyes cleared the morning fog, he realized it wasn't his mother, it was the Great Mother. She looked at him with a stern expression and told him to get dressed. As he was dressing, the Great Mother explained that Zoe was meeting with the chief, and Peter was to spend the day learning about the life of the Kilitoki tribe.

"Eat this on the way," said Great Mother handing Peter a bowl of fruit and nuts. She walked out of the hut, with him following on her heels.

"I will take you around and introduce you to our people. You'll meet everyone, learn about them and what they do. At the end, I'll let you choose your own work. Whatever you think is appropriate for you. I'll show you where we wash, then I'll show you where you can get a drink and some food if you become thirsty or hungry."

Great Mother led Peter past a large canopy and Peter saw Nakibo who waived at him.

"Peter! I am leaving," yelled Nakibo. "I have other business to take care of. I promised your mom I will visit every month and bring supplies. However, I think you'll find everything you need right here."

"You're leaving? But what about the Grass Warriors?" Peter took a liking to the friendly giant and didn't want see him go.

Nakibo came up closer and smiled. "You'll have to find that out for yourself," he said and clasped Peter by the shoulders.

"I'll see you in a month then," nodded Peter.

For the next few hours, Great Mother and Peter were busy meeting various people of the tribe. Peter tried to memorize everyone's name, but he seemed to forget them as soon as he heard them. He learned about what everyone did around the tribe. Work varied from fruit picking to hunting, to blanket and clothes making, to farming. Peter couldn't quite decide what kind of work he'd be good at.

Once they were done meeting everyone in the tribal village, Great Mother led him to the river, a little further down from where they landed the day before.

"This is where we wash ourselves," Great Mother explained, pointing to an area along the bank. The banks and the rapids formed a calm pool of murky water. Peter followed the Great Mother into the river and felt that the bottom was padded with smooth sand.

"Contrary to what others might think, we are clean people," said Great Mother. "Every morning the women come and wash here at the sunrise and every evening at sunset. This is special time for women. Remember Peter, men stay away at those times." She looked at Peter intently, until he nodded to let her know that he understood.

"Men usually don't have a set time. They can bathe anytime they want, other than the times at which women bathe." They walked a little further down the bank where the rocks began creating rapids. "This is the water we use for drinking, we use special plants to filter it."

"But this is the same water that you wash in," noted Peter.

"We gather drinking water when no one is bathing. Do not worry, after the filtering, it's very clean. There are other things in the water that you should worry about."

After that, Peter and Great Mother returned to the tribal village. She showed Peter where food and water supplies were kept. Peter noticed that for an old woman, Great Mother moved around quite swiftly.

"Now Peter, if there's anything else you ever need, just ask anyone."

"But how will they understand me?"

"Good point," chuckled the Great Mother. "In that case, speak to me or Koko'loko." The Great Mother grew solemn again and said: "Peter, did you decide what kind of work you want to do?"

"Well," Peter scratched his head. "I was thinking that being a hunter would be fun, but that sounds a bit over my head. I guess, picking fruit should be easy enough, but I don't really know the area around here."

"You'll learn it fast enough, Peter. As it happens your new friends do that same work. They will show you around." The old woman let a little smile slip past her lips.

"Friends." Peter felt his mouth go dry.

"Let's go meet them now," said Great Mother and began shuffling rapidly into the jungle.

***

Peter stood in front of a large tree facing a group of youngsters. These were the same four guys that were wresting by the fire last night. Peter's arms hung limply at his sides as he looked at them. One of the guys in front of him was leaning on a long stick, which Peter later learned was for shaking fruit from trees. Another one was eating a mango. Two others were kneeling next to him. The boys were skinny, but they looked strong -- their dark, smooth skin seemingly consuming the sun.

"This is Peter!" announced Great Mother in English, which Peter thought was silly. She pointed to the boy with the stick: "That is Tooki. Eating a mango is Pompo. And those two twins are Karo and Kuru." Peter nodded at each one in turn, but didn't receive any acknowledgment back. Suddenly, Mother of the Tribe exclaimed something in their native tongue.

"Hello Peter!" said the boys in unison, lazily.

"I've been teaching these boys some English and they learn fast," said Great Mother, "but from now on you'll be teaching them." She turned to face Peter, touched the top of his head and, just like that, left.

Peter found himself staring at the boy leaning on the stick, unable to think of anything to say. He felt stupid. This whole idea was stupid. How could he make friends with African boys? He didn't even know how to talk to them.

The boys studied Peter in silence.

"Come!" said Pompo finally, tossing his mango in the bush. Other boys began following him, disappearing into the jungle. Peter just stood there, stupefied. As the last boy was about to step into the bush he turned to Peter and motioned for him to follow.

"You. Come!"

Peter had no other choice but to follow.

The boys were walking single file through the jungle foliage, seemingly following an invisible path in between the trees. Peter couldn't tell where they were going or why he followed them. Finally, one of the boys, Pompo, stopped and disappeared into a tall bush. Everyone followed him. When Peter emerged on the other side of the bush, he saw something that resembled a modest tree house, built about ten feet off the ground.

"Our fort!" declared Pompo loudly as he turned to face Peter. "Only warriors may enter!" His face looked grim and serious. Peter could only blink back in reply. Then suddenly, one of the boys burst out laughing and the other boys joined in unison.

"Sorry friend," said the boy named Tooki in between fits of laugh. "We play joke on you. Make you scared."

"Yes! Your face look so scared," added Pompo heaving for air. He came up to Peter and heartily slapped him on the back, which caused Peter to pitch forward slightly.

Everyone around Peter was laughing, but Peter didn't think this was funny. So, he just stood there looking at each of them in turn.

"Relax, we play joke no more. You our friend now. You can enter our fort," said Pompo as he began climbing the rope that led up into the fort. Tooki followed him.

Peter found himself flanked by the two brothers, Karo and Kuru. They prodded him forward and urged him to climb the rope. Peter took the rope into his hands and looked up. He had a sudden memory of doing this at gym class and how terribly he'd performed then. He didn't have much hope for this time. Nevertheless, he gripped the rope tightly and tried pulling himself up. He barely made it up several inches, before his arms gave out and he sagged back down to ground. He tried again, with much of the same results. He heard Karo and Kuru giggle behind him. Frustrated, he let go of the rope and had a mind to run away.

"Come Peter," called Pompo's voice from above. Karo and Kuru yelled something to him and Pompo looked down at Peter, out of the fort.

"Peter, grab rope," he called. "Hold strong."

And thus, the first time Peter met his new friends, he was being hauled up into a tree fort.

- Chapter 5 -

The life in the tribe slowly became absolutely normal for Peter and Zoe. Zoe spent a lot of the time with chief Koko'loko. They exchanged ideas and traded knowledge. As promised, she began teaching English to all who desired. The class was held in the afternoon, outside, under a canopy and students consisted of adults and c***dren alike. Most of the students attended daily and Zoe wondered if they were under some sort of orders from the chief or if they actually enjoyed the class. Her best students were Peter's new-found friends. All four of them seemed so eager for the class each day. While she held her English class, Peter would sometimes help her out. After the class, Peter and his friends would get together and go off doing whatever it was they did. Zoe was beyond happy to see Peter making such great new friends. Sometimes he would tell her about their adventures and she could see that he finally found true friendship.

Nakibo visited every month, but he was rarely needed. Thus he decided that he would come every two months since it wasn't an easy trip to make.

Each morning Zoe would rise early and bathe with the rest of the women. The women would undress completely and wash themselves while conversing and laughing. At first, Zoe felt uncomfortable being nude in the open area as such. She felt extremely exposed and was afraid that someone might be watching. However, each day she grew more accustomed to it, and after a while didn't think twice about it.

For bathing, the women used sponges and soap made out of special plants. Often times, they would break up into small groups -- old women, middle aged, and young. Zoe usually bathed with the young ones. She even made friends with Umani and Cili -- two large breasted sisters. Zoe found out that Tooki, one of Peter's friends, was their little brother. The girls were younger than Zoe, but she enjoyed their company more than the somber company of the middle aged women. Funny thing was, the girls had tits like cannon balls -- big, round and black. Zoe found herself somewhat envious, even though her own breasts were quite ample, they just weren't this massive. She would tease the girls that one day their tits would sag down to their waist, like their mother's. The girls would laugh and retort that at least their tits weren't as bright as the sun, referring to Zoe's pasty white skin (and it was especially white on parts of her body that were usually clothed).

The boys always went to their tree fort after they picked enough fruit for the day, which was their tribal duty. They would hang around the fort, playing games and telling stories. The boys would always speak English when together. It was for practice, but mostly for Peter's sake. In fact, Peter didn't even notice their accents anymore, or the fact that they constructed unusual sentences. He tried to correct them at first, but as his friends' English improved, he stopped.

While his African friends learned English from him, Peter learned things from them in return. He learned how to climb the rope, climb trees, avoid snakes and insects, and shake down ripe fruit.

Their most favorite activity was to talk about women. Often times, the subject would turn to Tooki's sisters. They were several years older, but were the closest to the boys in age. And of course, they had the biggest breasts of anyone else in the tribe.

"I almost saw Cili's boobs today," said Pompo.

"Yeah? How so?" asked Tooki. He didn't seem to mind when they talked about his sisters and he always joined the conversation eagerly.

"She was stretching and her top lifted up. I saw the bottoms of them."

"You're lucky!" Karo and Kuru exclaimed in agreement.

"I'd love to squeeze them and rub my face all over them." Pompo closed his eyes and made motions with his hands.

"Stop talking like that, or else we'll have to do another mission," said Tooki smirking mischievously.

"Mission? What mission?" asked Peter, suddenly curious.

"Never mind him. He's just stupid," answered Pompo. "Have you ever seen anyone's breasts before, Peter?"

"Uh. I have," answered Peter. "Well, not in real life but on TV."

"I'm going to have to get a TV someday," said Pompo. Peter's friends became intrigued with the magic TV screen, the very first time he describe it to them.

"How about your mom's boobs, Peter?" asked Tooki. "I bet they look pretty good. Ever seen her change or wash herself?"

"No!" Peter cried out. "That's not normal. I mean, where I come from... you're not... you don't look at your mom like that." Peter paused and looked at Tooki. "Or your sisters, for that matter."

Tooki shrugged. "I don't see why not. If they have large breasts, I don't care who they are."

The other guys nodded.

"I guess... you guys are just too different to understand," said Peter quietly. He suddenly felt that he was culturally distant from his friends.

"Wait! I think I understand where you're coming from Peter," said Pompo noticing Peter's unease. "My mom, for example, is very skinny. She has small breasts and is getting quite old. Though, to be honest, I'm still looking forward to my Manhood Rite ceremony."

"What is a Manhood Rite ceremony?" asked Peter.

"Just another of our traditional ceremonies," replied Pompo. "You'll learn of it eventually."

"Sounds interesting," prodded Peter. "Tell me more."

Pompo shrugged. "I don't know much more. I've never seen it myself."

"Hey Peter!" Tooki exclaimed suddenly. "You want to see some breasts?"

Peters eyes lit up and he grinned. "Of course! But how? Where?"

"Pompo, I think it's time," said Tooki with a smirk.

Pompo looked at Tooki and then at Peter, who looked utterly confused.

"Warriors!" Pompo cried and nodded at the other boys.

In a moment, Peter was surrounded. Pompo and Tooki were in front of him while the two brothers came from behind. They formed a circle around him. Peter was shorter than Pompo and Tooki, and he felt a bit intimidated.

"Peter, you have been summoned!" howled Pompo tilting his head back and spreading his arms wide. "You have been summoned to become a great warrior! The great Grass Warrior!"

"Grass Warrior?" asked Peter, his eyes twinkling. "Nakibo told me about this! I can become one?"

Pompo ignored him. "Your spirit is ready! Your mind is ready! Your body is ready!"

The other boys began chanting two, unfamiliar to Peter, words. "Burumu Paakuli!" It meant "Grass Warriors" in the native tongue.

Pompo was staring at Peter now -- face calm and serious among the chanting of the others. "Peter," he said. "Do you wish to become a Grass Warrior? Do you wish to walk the path of the Grass?"

Peter looked at him and nodded. Going along with the act he screamed out: "Yes! Oh, great... Grass Warrior... leader... guy! I want to walk the path!"

Pompo started cracking up first, and the rest of the boys were soon to follow, even Peter. The circle broke as the boys were s**ttered by laughter. A few minutes later they calmed down.

"I'm not the leader," said Pompo. "There is no leader. We are all equal. Though I am the oldest."

"The oldest fool," quipped Tooki.

Pompo shot him a lazy glance. "Peter you are now a Grass Warrior. That means you can do Grass Warrior missions. We haven't done a mission since you came, we've been saving it for you. We couldn't tell if you had the Grass Warrior spirit, but after all these months of living with us, we can see you have it."

"Cool! So what kind of a mission are we going on?"

"The White Ape mission, my friend," answered Tooki.

"White Ape?" Peter frowned in confusion.

"All missions have names," explained Pompo. "This one has a special meaning, but you'll find out tomorrow. We meet here, at sunrise. If you're late, the mission goes o