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Your Discovery

Your Discovery

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Your Discovery

Longueur:
141 pages
2 heures
Éditeur:
Sortie:
Jul 22, 2013
ISBN:
9781483669496
Format:
Livre

Description

At the end of their pregnancy eleven months later, women lay eggs which are incubated in different ways because tribes are very far from others. However, clans do exist and have different cultures, traditions, and beliefs. One of the tribes build little huts where they make fire that burns for twenty-four hours until a baby is hatched. Another tribe buries the eggs in the ground and keeps watch day and night. The tribes do differ in the way they hatch. One other tribe does it in the nearby huge lake. Birds do not lay eggs and sit on the eggs are hatched. They give birth to their young and breastfeed them until they are independent. Men have pouches like kangaroos in Australia which are used as bags or sacks to carry stuff. These tribes have a few things in common. They all have fur on their bodies which illuminate according to their moods. These are very peaceful tribes. When they fight, the intention is to punish and make the other realise who the boss is. They die from illness, accidents, and old age. When a person dies, the illumination of the fur or hair on their body dies. This is the only sure way here to know that it is death.

Éditeur:
Sortie:
Jul 22, 2013
ISBN:
9781483669496
Format:
Livre

À propos de l'auteur

I wanted to write stories and books from my last year in primary through to high school. I attended primary at T. P. Mathabathe and high school at Jan Hofmeyr in Atteridgeville, Pretoria, South Africa. It was not easy growing up under the repressive white government of the National Party. Black people were prescribed what to do in life. I wanted to be a doctor, but the monthly salary paid to our parents was so little it would not see me through to university because it would not be there by the end of the third week. This happened to millions of black people.

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Aperçu du livre

Your Discovery - Eva Shabane Mogale

Your Discovery

Eva Shabane Mogale

Copyright © 2013 by Eva Shabane Mogale.

ISBN:                    Softcover                        978-1-4836-6948-9

                              Ebook                            978-1-4836-6949-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 07/13/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

0-800-056-3182

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

Orders@xlibrispublishing.co.uk

304682

Contents

The Plot

When Resources Are Few, Confrontation Between Wildlife and Humans is Never Far Off

The Cremation

Sixteen Women and Five Eggs

Axisabvydo’a Tribe

Tribal and Clan Clashes

Honouring of the Dead, To and From the Omnipotent Journey— It Must Be Done

The Hgifyuiondsa Tribes and Clans

The Domsalele Tribes and Clans

The Qta’aaiobvsa Tribes and Clans

The Creatures of the Xceaiyve {sea}

A Flock of Namnanxyu

The Xaertyxaeadsaxae

The Duzzinslabyux Savannah

Fire in the Sky as the Seasons Turn

Creatures That Are Plentiful At This Time of the Year

Funuannavxsa

The Tiviyofladbom Tribe

The Aht Kilotrgdfon Tribe

The Plot

The season on this planet is at the end of winter. The animals and these huge birds are looking for sex partners. The females’ buttocks are beginning to swell up and change colour from pale bluish to silvery white. These colours are like taffeta, changing each time the females’ tails thrash up and down. When they are ready, the buttocks are very swollen and expose their genitals. The female genitals are right there on the buttocks, under this huge funnel-shaped tail tapering between the legs towards the heels. Their tails do not swing from side to side but up and down, revealing their genitals, making the smell of their oestrogen spread. Their vaginas are on the bum, arranged round like the size of saucer, having numerous holes on the circumference, equally spaced by nature. There is a slightly bigger hole in the middle. That is the anus. Below the anus is a tiny vent concealed by fine feathers. That is the birth canal. Then there are more holes below the first line, also well spaced. These holes are sex organs leading to the womb. From these tiny but visible vaginas, there are tiny channels extending from each and every one where the sperm travels into the womb to fertilize the eggs in there. There is a smell from the fluid dripping periodically from these sex organs. The females are not quite ready to mate. This drip would stop when they are ready. They are not playing hard to get. They would be ready when nature calls. That is for sure.

The males are driven crazy by the smell from the fluids coming out of the female vaginas. They spread out their huge wings almost towering above their heads, making these almighty gunshot-like sounds by their huge beaks when they slam them together. They stamp the feet so hard the ground shakes. The inside of their wings is pure white, very fine tiny feathers, so fine that they feel like that of humans but illuminate [like taffeta] the colours on their outer feathers at the end of their bodies. The illumination of these colours is only at the tips of these fine feathers while the rest of the feathers remain white. This happens only during the mating season. Still the females do not notice the display. The wings of the males remain widely spread above their heads while they slam their beaks and stamp all their legs one at a time as if the earth would break into pieces. Maybe the gathering clouds at the horizon would dampen their huge sex appetite should it rain. This is torture.

The females call the shots on the mating games. Meanwhile, some females have caught and eaten small animals, also having drank from tiny ponds that formed when it rained a few days ago. They have moved on and are spread far into the field as far as the eye can see. They are not ready to mate, or something is seriously wrong with them in their sex life. The males are fighting each other by beating the opponent with their tails or jumping to fight with their huge talons on their four legs, others banging each other’s head with an almighty bang as if the skulls would crack open. It never happens that the skulls crack open, but the weaker bird would run for dear life. This is sexual torture for the males. As the fight continues, the males pick up this pungent smells of females and the fighting stops. They see the females coming towards them, having then reached the highest peak of being ready to mate and to initiate the sex act. The females also stamp their feet so hard on the ground creating huge tremors. They are rushing towards the males. Not a sound is uttered from their beaks. They flap their equally huge wings as if they are about to take off. This almighty flapping of wings flattens the grass and shakes the branches of trees. On an open patch of ground, they create huge clouds of dust. Their smell becomes stronger and stronger. Then up go the widespread wings of females, showing the illumination. It appears there are as many females as there are males. There are also a huge number of juveniles and other growing-up chicks among the grown-up birds. They are not ready for sex.

As the females come closer and closer, the males dance on their four legs, two legs at a time or all four legs. Wings remain open, and illuminated feathers become brighter and brighter, colours becoming intense, changing at a furious pace. The white part of the feathers is blinding. The females have arrived. They are ready to mate. Their buttocks have turned blinding silver-white like the inside of the male wings, which have come down by now. None of the birds mate for life. The females kneel with their tails turned up to expose their vaginas. The tail is now streamlined along its body, exposing the saucer-like sex organs. The males’ penises are in the inside of the tail, which is funnel-shaped like the females. They are about three inches long and are as many as there are vaginas of the females and are all erect. Each and every penis has its own scrotum and testicles. While the female is on her knees, the male is almost running towards her to penetrate her and deposit his sperm. It is a messy affair because it can be a hit and miss, even when the male has grabbed firmly to control her and the sperm would fly all over in this hit-and-miss sexual encounter. Not a sound is heard from the female. Once the female feels sex is going on, she stands up and walks about, with the male in tow. It appears the weight of male bird is not felt. It takes a while for the males to dislodge. After all this, the males open their wings again but for a short period, revealing the dying colours at the tip of their wings. This does not mark the end of mating for a male. Give him some time and he is shortly in the mood again. There are other males and females missing out for some reasons, still in full display of this ritual. There is plenty of time to get partners. The male sex organ is inside the tail, where the three tails start to take the shape of a funnel. It measures well with the position of the female sex organs. In this sex matter, the tail of the male is under the female’s belly during penetration, caressing her ever so gently.

The sex season continues for two to three weeks. Juveniles are practising survival skills by testing each other’s strength, practising the sex games and hunting skills. Oh no! Those wandering females are mating with the males. Their clocks were a little bit slow.

The dark clouds are gathering fast from west, and it appears it is going to be a heavy downpour of torrential rain with lightning, thunder, winds blowing at 80-100 km/h going on for days. When lightning strikes, it lashes out hundreds of small tributaries as far as the eye can see, displaying silvery blue and purple colours. The lightning is beautiful but deadly should it strike in the villages. At this time of torrential rain, when the lightning strikes, people and animals get killed, this resulting in great loss of life. Animals, birds, fruits, vegetables, and all edible plants are in short but would grow and be in abundant supply as the season matures.

When Resources Are Few, Confrontation Between Wildlife

and Humans is Never Far Off

Humans are aware the birds would come hunt them when hunger is unbearable. Humans have to be extremely careful when they go hunting. The easiest way to kill the birds is for humans to go up the trees, hide and wait for the birds to come pass on the way to the village. They shoot arrows into the body of the bird/s to cause bodily harm, weaken, and slow them down. The birds are weak from the onslaught after having walked for half a kilometre then loose balance and stop right there to die. They kill the birds mercilessly because the birds are on the way to the villages to find food—humans. The rain, wind, and lightning do not stop humans from hunting the birds. It is survival of the fittest. From treetops men could see that a good number of birds are advancing by running towards the village; villagers are expecting the birds and are ready. Men have climbed down from treetops, running as fast as they can, their illuminating body fur changing colours just as fast as they run to go and help. There are infants, toddlers, elderly, invalids, cripples, and other helpless individuals who are victims. As far as this running army of men is concerned, it is not going to happen. However, there are always casualties on both sides, and they know it. As the men run as fast as they can, they whistle and make noises, hoping to slow down the birds or frighten them. The weather elements are beating down on them; trying to reach the villages and avoid catastrophe does not slow them down. Being wet does not stop the illumination of the fur on their bodies. It is oily fur and water just drops off. At last they reach the villages, but there is a huge crowd. Men, women, and young adults of both sexes are prepared to protect what they have, including domestic animals and birds. There is a wall around all their villages which has holes from which they can shoot the birds. The holes on the walls are about the height of the chest of the birds. When a bird is hit there, the arrow goes straight to its heart and lungs. The blade is broad, sharp enough to damage the internal organs and the bird surely dies. The houses are built very close to each other to avoid birds landing in there and moving freely. There could be 200-500 houses and huts. Imagine the snap of lighting, the slamming of the beaks from the birds, the shouting of the humans, the roaring wind and rain, and whizzing of their arrows. There are a huge number of birds and humans.

It is a ferocious war. The birds are flying high above the village; among them are juveniles already showing they can fight and attack like adult birds. When the bidibas spread their wings as they fight, they actually block out the rain with their huge spread-out wings illuminating white feathers in the inside and white at the tips of the feathers. However, there is rain filtering through, but the wide wings of these birds have reduced it significantly. The birds’ inside feathers and humans are illuminating in this war. The colours are different. The birds have come

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