text:
Naked Prey
by George Gauthier
French Equatorial Africa
1: French Equatorial Africa
Jean slipped off his cot and closed the mosquito net behind him then set off, bare feet slapping on the raised walkway to the facility, as the outhouse was politely called. The flooring was raised only half a meter above the ground, but it kept his feet off the muddy earth and lessened the chance of a barefoot encounter with a snake. Good thing there was a strong breeze tonight to keep the bloodsuckers off him, though they usually bothered him much less than folk with darker hair; his was blond. Moonlight shone on his bare skin. In the brutal tropical heat of French Equatorial Africa, Jean always slept naked.
He quickly did his business and had started back to his rooms when a rain shower started. This was fine by him. He pull one of the cane chairs out onto the open deck, sat down, and let the shower wash all over him. It felt good on his bare skin. He bathed daily, as much to prevent tropical skin diseases as for comfort and cleanliness, but it didn't take long to acquire a sheen of sweat in this heat, even lying still. Gods know why the French Republic wanted an official presence in these forsaken lands which brought no obvious economic benefits to France. Showing the flag really. In the scramble for Africa in the last two decades of the nineteenth century, the district of Ubangi was a part of the continent that had fallen into the hands of the French, sandwiched between German and Belgian holdings.
At least his superior in the Colonial Office, M. Malherbe, wasn't around to see him at this late hour and complain yet again about his casual attitude to clothing off duty. Here he was sitting totally naked where he might be seen from the servants moving about, up early to get things ready.
"The white man must set the example for the natives, M. Thibault. They are like children." Malherbe always said. "Proper attire is necessary for us to maintain our position, to show the superiority of French civilization, to promote our civilizing mission. What would your grandfather say?"
Jean did not view the natives as children at all but as men and women, and he thought they set a fine example of minimal clothing, just a loincloth for men in the tropical heat. Too bad he could not emulate them. Malherbe barely tolerated the sarongs Jean wore off duty, brought back from his first truncated posting in French Polynesia. Jean also thought that his grandfather Thibault, an old soldier, would attribute the superiority of French civilization in Africa to the machine gun and the breech-loading rifle.
Malherbe visited this remote district sub-office only once a month, staying a couple of days. Jean liked it that way. If he had to endure exile from his beloved Paris, at least he didn't have to put up with the company of a boor like his boss every day. It did make for isolation. Jean was the only white man thereabouts except for an occasional patrol by the military.
Malherbe had his own reservations about his young subordinate. Malherbe suspected some scandal had cut the young man's tour of duty on Tahiti short after less than a year. Whatever it was, his contacts had failed to unearth any details.
Actually, Jean, then only eighteen and just out of the lycŽe, was found in bed one night with four native Tahitians his own age, in lusty sexual congress. He was caught in flagrante delicto with a boy plugging each orifice. The other two admitted they were just waiting their turn at him too. It was a twice weekly arrangement where this scion of the French aristocracy surrendered himself to randy native boys to be used as their sexual plaything. Jean had no difficulty finding partners. He had taken to swimming naked in the lagoon and had caught the eye of many of the young men of the islands.
Jean did not share the racial prejudices of his time. He though the Polynesians were fine looking folk. The men were handsome (and the women pretty, if that was where your interests lay). Tahitians were not sexually inhibited the way white men so often were, Sex was deemed entirely natural, even between young males. Jean was very much a bottom boy and very much in demand. One time they had held an orgy where more than a dozen boys or young men had enjoyed Jean's charms.
The Prefect hustled Jean out on the very next boat. For his family's sake they hushed it up. The family was old and rich and influential, and the old General, a notable duelist, would likely challenge anyone who cast aspersions on his only grandson.
It was the general, not Clemenceau, himself a well-known duelist, about whom the famous quip was first told. The young officer serving as then Colonel Thibault's aide and second for the duel noticed that his superior had bought only a one-way ticket for the trip on the suburban railway to the dueling ground.
"Sir, aren't you being rather pessimistic?" the young man asked reproachfully.
"Not at all," the older man assured him, adding confidently: "I always use my opponent's ticket for the return trip."
Actually for all his fierce reputation, the General would not have called a man out over his grandson's preference for his own gender. Killing a man for speaking the truth, whatever his motivation, would be dishonorable. Deplorable as it was and disappointing to the continuity of the family line, it was only the truth, as Jean had admitted to him in a heart to heart talk.
Jean was the apple of his eye, a comely youth with a lively intelligent face. True, he lacked his father's military bearing. He took after his mother, bless her, as fine a daughter-in-law as any man could have wished for. Jean was rather a pretty boy: short and slightly built with longish blond hair, green eyes, and delicate features.
He had an almost elfin quality about him but was not at all effeminate. He was always an active lad running around the estate, swimming, climbing the fells and cliffs of their corner of the Massif Central. He liked to compete in foot races with the other boys and usually won. At the general's suggestion, he had taken up the arts of savate and boxing and knew how to wield a stave and the more elegant walking stick in self-defense as well as shoot both pistol and rifle. Although an avid reader and insatiably curious, the boy was no pasty faced bookworm but usually bronzed from the summer sun.
The General had hoped that keeping Jean away from the temptations of Paris would give the boy a chance to come to his senses. Yes the general could understand his feelings. As a young man, he himself had taken a a male lover, but discreetly. He later had married a good woman and been a kind and caring spouse. His wife had accepted his very occasional dalliances knowing her husband would not bring it home, would never impose on the servants, and would certainly never take advantage of his official position. Yes his aides were always handsome young men, but were chosen for their competence and promise. Their physical beauty, while not coincidental, was entirely decorative. There was never anything physical with any of his subordinates. That too would have been dishonorable.
Jean was very sorry he had disappointed his grandfather. He was the father figure he grew up with after the early death of his father from the cholera in Morocco. The General had expected Jean would take another posting in pleasant Algeria, virtually an extension of southern France. Instead Jean had wound up in this pestilential hell-hole, deep in the interior. At least he hadn't taken sick like so many whites in these regions. For all his slight build, his wiry body had always been resistant to illnesses that plagued others.
Since dawn was upon him, he decided to get some paperwork out of the way before breakfast. Slipping a sarong around his narrow hips he walked to his office and sat down at his desk. Two productive hours later, it was time to start his daily routine. He wondered if he should shave today. He looked in the mirror and saw only a very light fuzz near the jaw line -- you had to get quite close to the mirror to see anything at all, so fine, you couldn't call it stubble. It had been eleven days since a razor had touched those cheeks. Nineteen years old and still a beardless boy. He also had almost no body hair, just small tufts in his armpits and groin and an invisible dusting on his lower legs.
As a preventive health measure Jean kept his groin and armpits shaved, where, like his sparse beard, the hair did not grow out very fast. Three kinds of lice infest the human body. Shaving the groin thwarted possible pubic lice, clean clothing and bedding thwarted body lice. Jean's frequent nudity and light clothing helped there too. And he was always careful about head to head contact and keeping his headgear separate for fear of head lice. He suspected Malherbe carried two or even all three kinds. So much for the superiority of French civilization.
After breakfast Jean showered and dressed properly in tropical whites and boots but without the string necktie. He received visitors and petitioners with much the usual complaints: the road was washed out here; a rogue elephant were rampaging among the fields there, bandits had struck in the south, slavers in the east. Some problems he handled with a telegram to Malherbe or to the military garrison at Fort Dinard. He himself would take care of the rogue elephant. It was a good excuse for a short safari anyway, a few days away from the office. On the way back he could check out the extent of the damage to the roadway before mobilizing a crew to fix it.
In the afternoon he set out on the hunt. He did not bother with a horse. That was for riding along the military roads, really dirt tracks, that criss crossed the country linking French outposts. This part of Africa was not plagued by the tsetse fly that doomed European livestock and often white men too. For this trip into the jungle, he would be on footpaths or forcing his way through the tangle, chopping a path with a machete. He set off with a small party, a couple of bearers and his major domo and interpreter, Maloto.
He brought a doubled-barrel express rifle to handle the elephant or any of the big cats. He also took along a pistol, a telescope, and a map, such as it was. Cartographers had their work cut out for them in the wastes of central Africa with the limitations of late nineteenth century technology. Maloto was similarly armed. He was a native constable in addition to his other duties. Jean made sure he was paid twice, once for his job a major domo, and again as a constable and interpreter. That had led to an argument early on with Malherbe. In the end, Jean agreed to pay Maloto's salary as major domo out of his own pocket. The man was invaluable for his local knowledge of the people and the land, and he had a fine sense of humor to liven the long hours they spent together. A widower with grown children, he could devote his full time to his duties.
Jean did not disdain to carry some of his own supplies, though in a back pack, not on top of his head like the bearers did. That was supposed to be easier, with the skeleton rather than the muscles bearing the load, but he knew it would look ridiculous, even if he got the hang of it. He carried his rifle. His grandfather had spoken scornfully of white hunters in Africa who were too lazy to carry their own rifles. A soldier never lets his weapon get out of his hands while on the march.
2: Encounters
"What do you think, Maloto? Is all the damage to these fields the work of a rogue or just a hungry and opportunistic elephant?"
"Definitely, a rogue, sir, from all the unnecessary damage. Also the way he attacked the man and boy who tried to scare him off banging pots and pans. A normal elephant would not have trampled them."
From the prints Jean could tell it was of good size, but forest elephants are smaller than the great bush elephant of the open savannah. With any luck, he could bring him down with a single shot. Jean and Maloto followed the tracks to a dust wallow where they found the rogue. The beast caught the white man's distinctive scent at the last moment when the wind shifted, but Jean got him in the head with his first shot.
You really don't want to have to rely on a second. Elephants can move fast, charging in a kind of shuffle. An elephant is too heavy to get all four feet off the ground at once as a horse does in a gallop. Never try to outrun one though. Same thing for the comical looking but aggressive and dangerous hippos, if you encountered them on land. Jean took comfort in the knowledge that Maloto was a fair shot and would have backed him up, if his first shot had not done the trick. Maloto had once assured Jean that a man could outrun a crocodile, but Jean hoped he never had to prove it. Maybe that was just Maloto's sense of humor talking.
Jean saw to it that the elephant's meat was distributed to the entire village, with the ivory tusks going to the families of the two victims. The natives appreciated his forbearance in not taking the valuable ivory for himself, as was his right, and welcomed the swift end to the threat of the murderous elephant.
The party them proceeded to where the roadway had washed out. It was more like a small landslide. Jean would have to mobilize more men than he had figured once he got back to the district office. At least they had enough tools in storage for the work crew, and Jean could draw on discretionary funds to pay the workers. Jean was scrupulous about paying wages, not just raising an unpaid levy as some corrupt officials were known to do, and simply pocketing the men's wages. He left word at the nearest village for the men to assemble in four days' time when he would be back with tools and to supervise the work. A colonial officer was necessarily a jack of all trades: administrator, diplomat, conciliator, judge, constable, hunter, engineer, and even doctor, though the local witch doctors were touchy about their prerogatives.
Jean respected the natives as human beings, with the same hopes and desires as anyone. However, as a son of the Enlightenment Jean did not see any reason to respect their superstitious belief that when something bad happened a malign witch must be responsible. Witch doctors were good at singling out vulnerable old women to take the blame for illness, crop failure, snake bite, storms, or any other misfortune, often inciting mobs to kill the supposed malefactor.
"Nkobo says this landslide was caused by a witch." Maloto reported.
"More likely the heavy rains in the last week, Maloto. Tell him that for me. Try to be diplomatic."
The witch doctor merely blamed the witch for the heavy rains. There was no reasoning with the irrational. Jean wished these people well. He respected how they had managed to wrest a living from this wretched land, but how could they advance if they still held to primitive notions of how the world worked? This was the nineteenth century after all, almost the twentieth. Such views were out of date in the modern world.
He was candid enough to admit that native witch doctors in Africa were all too similar to Christian witch hunters of Europe only a couple of centuries earlier. Both were unscientific and magic based attempts to understand the existence of good and evil, fortune and misfortune. Completely wrongheaded of course, and charges of witchcraft were often opportunistic. Also, local witch doctors were responsible for half the recent unrest among the tribes. They even opposed visits by traveling doctors or preventive public health measures like vaccinations and sanitary water supplies.
Nkobo was not mollified, glaring at the young white man. It did not help that Jean was small and slight of build, much smaller than the average native who was strongly built. Jean's blond hair, green eyes, and straight nose emphasized their racial differences. Nkobo was a mature man. Jean was only nineteen and looked younger and he was so very pretty, like a girl. Nkobo almost sneered at the young Frenchman, dismissing his naturalistic notions about misfortune and disease. No wonder. If they gained wider currency, they would completely undermine his position.
That would be just as well, Jean thought. Pasteur and Koch had recently proved the germ theory of disease. Now there was an exemplar of French civilization: the great Louis Pasteur, dead only this year. French doctors had originally rejected his theories because he was a chemist by training, not a medical man. He and the German Koch invented the science of microbiology, despite the naysaying of the medical establishment. In so doing, they had showed up the medical community for essentially a bunch of quacks in their understanding of infectious disease. It was doctors who for centuries had foisted the system of the four bodily humors on humanity, doctors who persisted in completely ineffective herbal remedies, doctors who insisted on aggressively treating every ailment, not recognizing that many illnesses were self-limiting, ones people got over naturally, if left alone.
It was doctors, after all, who had killed the great George Washington, friend and father figure to Lafayette, one of Jean's heros and a man to whom he was distantly related, bleeding him of five pints of blood instead of just giving supportive care till his own vitality threw off the flu or simple head cold he had contracted. Only recently had orthodox medicine become truly scientific. The lesson there was that irrationality was not limited by race or culture or nation.
A couple of weeks later, back at the district station, Jean heard a clatter from outside the compound. It was a patrol of French soldiers led by Lieutenant Henri Duchamp, his only real friend in the region. Duchamp was dark and wavy while Jean was fair and straight, but both were small in build and pretty rather than handsome. Henri affected a narrow mustache trying to look older and more seasoned, but he still looked like a very young man of twenty-two.
"Welcome, Henri. Come, let me show your men to their new quarters."
Jean led the officer and his sergeant around the side of the compound where Jean had erected twin platforms covered with thatch to shelter the men during their stop overs. The platforms kept them off the damp ground, protected them from snakes and scorpions, but had no walls except mosquito netting. Jean was very proud of that. The men could lay their bedrolls out, the open walls would let the evening breezes in, but the netting would keep the mosquitos out. The thatched roof would keep the men out of the rain. Another shelter protected an outdoor kitchen.
"Naturally, I hope you will still accept my personal hospitality, Henri." Jean ventured, giving his friend a wink. They were lovers as well as friends.
Jean was delighted to learn the soldiers would be staying for several days, marching out in different directions to show the flag. The natives had been restless of late. Rumors had spread that the French were about to repeat the dastardly tactics of the Belgian king Leopold II in his personal possession, the Congo Free State, a corporate state which he ran more like a concentration camp than a colony. The Belgians forced the natives to search for wild rubber, neglecting their own fields and families. Those who fell short of the quota got a hand lopped off. The rapacious monarch earned infamy due to the brutal mistreatment of native peoples and plunder of natural resources. (The Belgian state was finally forced by international outcry to take over the colony in 1908.)
Over dinner Jean and Henri discussed their recent adventures and talked idly of what they would do once they were free to return to Paris. Meanwhile, they had each other. Both young men were randy boys who enjoyed lusty sexual congress. They made a fun couple. Though there was nothing serious between them, they really liked each other as friends and were very good in bed together. Fortunately Jean had long since replaced his original cot with a solidly built bed, big enough for two. Often the boys sixty-nined, both of them liking the taste of a boy's cum or just having it splooge on their face. That made them feel very sexy and desired. They French kissed, tongues dueling and probing deep.
Sometimes Jean straddled Henri's hips, slowly sinking down on his rigid cock, impaling himself on the older boy's member, sighing as he sank all the way down and his butt cheeks touched Henri's bare groin. Like Jean, Henri was hairless at the fork of his legs and virtually everywhere else. Henri traced his fingers down the small veins, just under the skin, in Jean's hairless belly. He fingered the chevrons of the blond boy's ribs. His thumbs circled Jean's tiny red nipples then rubbed the sharp hipbones he had come to know so well. He admired the corrugations of Jeans abdominals. Jean had so little body fat, it was easy to see the tracery of veins or the movements of tendons and muscles in the forearms. For one so slender, Jean was well muscled, much like Henri himself. Indeed Henri was only four centimeters taller with nearly the identical build.
Henri also liked to put Jean on his back, to throw Jean's slender legs over his shoulders, to bend the younger boy in half, pushing him up and over till his knees were by his face and he was scrolled up utterly vulnerable. Then he drilled into the blond boy, squelching and thrusting into his fundament. Jean would toss his head from side to side in helpless arousal as Henri filled his ass with his formidable cock.
"This is what you need 'blondinet' (little blondie), a real man to show you what you were born for, to put you on your back with your heels in the air or on your knees worshiping his manhood. Your tiny nipples were made for chewing on or for pinching as you submit to a man's cock."
"Yes, Henri, fuck me, fuck me hard. You are right, I need it. I want it. I can't get enough cock or enough of you."
He said it so passionately you would not realized some of it was play acting till he added in an off-hand tone.
"Just remember, mon ami. Tomorrow night, I get to play the aggressor."
That earned him a playful slap on his rump from his lover for his effrontery. Soon after their lovemaking ended, rain started to fall. They stepped out onto the deck and let it wash over them, limbs still intertwined, kissing and nibbling ears or stroking backs and asses. Then they turned their faces upwards, opening themselves totally to nature's cleansing and cooling rains, reveling in life, in their sexuality, in their closeness, and in their joy in having found each other practically at world's end. It felt so sexy to be there in the rain. The way it washed so totally over them, touching them everywhere made them feel utterly naked. The rain drummed on their chests. The waters flowed down their sides and their bellies, dividing around the prow of their proud cocks, sluicing down their cleavages.
After a while they lay down on the deck side by side, ribs and hips and legs touching. The deck had just enough give so it was not too uncomfortable. The boys held hands, looked up at the clouds, blinked away the raindrops that fell onto their faces and plastered the hair to their heads. Just two naughty boys without the sense to come in out of the rain, and they loved it. They giggled as they reminisced about the boyhoods. Something about being naked and rained upon under the open sky made them cast aside their last reserve as they spoke candidly of their hopes and desires for the future, a future they hoped they could share in some way. Henri expected to marry eventually, if only to continue the family line. Jean reached out and placed his hand protectively over his lover's genitals. Perish the day when these organs were not devoted to their mutual pleasure.
After a while, Henri raised up on one elbow and leaned over and kissed Jean. They resumed their lovemaking though this time at a slow tempered pace. Jean flipped on his belly as Henri gripped his buttocks and entered him carefully, seeking his joy spot. Their hearts soared in the age old dance of physical love between two males, carrying their passions to their natural consummation. Then still locked together, they rolled over on their sides and let the rain wash over their conjoined bodies. Neither had ever felt so much at one with the natural world and with each other. It was a sublime moment. In their exhaustion they actually fell asleep for an hour. Then they got up and sank together onto Jean's comfortable bed.
The next day, their joint shower was but a pale imitation of their consummation in the rain, but still naughty and fun. Alas, duty called so their time together was brief. At least they had three more nights together. Both boys hoped for more rain. What a sensual experience they had shared!
3: Restless Natives
Orders came from Fort Dinard by telegraph for Henri to march his men east to meet the main column on the Ubangi River. Given the respective distances, his patrol would not have to depart till the next day. Henri set his soldiers to readying their equipment, fixing boots, cleaning their rifles and sharpening their bayonets under the supervision of his two sergeants. Jean proposed an excursion to Henri in the meantime. It would be just the two of them. They rode their horses up a trail then led them by the reins as they picked their way on foot to a small meadow in the middle of the jungle. A low escarpment loomed overhead. Leaving their horses, Jean and Henri made the climb, to find a lovely pool of water fed by a spring.
"You see Henri. With these steep slopes, we can be sure there are no crocs in this pool. Let's go swimming. I come here often."
Stripping off, he plunged into the pool. Jean loved to swim and here he could do it in perfect safety. Henri soon joined him. He was an adequate swimmer though nothing like Jean. After a while Henri hiked his butt on a rock and watched Jean stroke back and forth. The younger boy was like a seal, completely at home in the water. Henri leaned back on his elbows and turned his face up to the sun, eyes closed so he did not see Jean's stealthy approach. Suddenly Jean's face was at the fork of Henri's legs, playfully mouthing his friend's limp member. That soon changed as both boys became aroused.
Jean closed his lips around the lovely, hard cock and sucked, moving his head up and down, taking his lover's manhood entirely into his mouth and throat as his lips kissed Henri's groin. Jean was a talented cock sucker and had only a little trouble with Henri's considerable endowment. His hands cupped Henri's buttocks as if to pull him even deeper into his throat. His technique drew approving moans from Henri, as his erection vanished into a velvet warmth that was his friend's mouth. Then Jean withdrew to play with his tongue at his lover's cock head, licking away the drops of clear fluid welling out of the tiny slit at the end. Jean gently grazed it with his teeth, tugging on the glans with soft sucks. Henri spread his legs apart and squirmed, tossing his head. When the hard member was coated and slick Henri suddenly put his hand on Jean's forehead and said to him huskily.
"Get out of the water and on all fours. I am going to fuck you."
Jean complied, spreading his legs, looking back, his face flushed with ardor, as Henri ran his cock head up and down his cleavage then poked at Jean's hole which was already twitching with excitement. Henri's fingered the hole for a bit, getting it ready to accept his girth, then put the head of his cock to Jean's hole. This felt so right to both of them. Just a little push to get past the first sphincter eliciting a little gasp from the smaller boy. Henri pushed forward, slipping into him little by little, leaning forward, his arms supporting his weight.
He was always surprised that this tiny orifice with its crinkly folds, could accept his rather impressive girth, but it did, letting him slip in up to the hilt. Their balls smacked together. When he was a deep as he could go, Henri was rewarded with a blissful sigh from his partner. Henri gave Jean time to get used to him, then started to pump slowly in and out. He bent down to kiss the back of Jean's neck then nipped the flesh of his shoulder.
Jean kept asking for more cock, for Henri to plant it deeper into him, to thrust harder, to fill him with cock. They fell into a rhythm, Jean raising his rump to meet the descending shaft as it penetrated his ass, using his internal muscles to squeeze the invading penis, both boys sweating profusely. They climaxed together, Jean felt his seed spurt on his belly and on the ground matched by the wet warmth filling his innermost being.
"Mon Dieu", he uttered, satisfaction in his voice. "It gets better every time!"
The lay down for a while, recouping their energy. After a while it was Jean's turn, though this time he and Henri made love face to face, kissing and playing with each other's nipples. Jean had tiny red nipples. Henri's were large and brown, like a woman's Jean always kidded him. They were young and in love so it did not take long for their bodies to reach a second climax that morning. The two young men sighed and lay together contentedly.
What a wonderful chance for the two of them to cast aside the cares of office and just enjoy each other, to enjoy their youth and vitality, to have time to themselves, together, naked, under the sky, basking in the sunlight, watching birds flit along the edge of the forest, listening to monkeys chatter and scold in the background. They had brought bread and cheese and wine and cold meats. With their backs against a large rock, the two youthful males partook of a simple meal.
"Life is good, Henri. At least when I can share it with you."
"Yes, my friend. These months together have been magical. Let us hope for more of the same in the future."
The boys kissed then stretched out on the grass, happy to be together, to be naked and alone in each other's company. What a happy time for both of them. Jean asked if Henri knew what the military maneuvers meant, but the lieutenant was just as much in the dark as his friend in the colonial office. He did know that the natives were restless. They both hoped bloodshed could be avoided. An actual uprising would be a disaster, useless really. No matter what they did, not matter what their initial success, the natives could not stand against modern arms.
Look at the Zulus in British South Africa. They got lucky at Isandlwana in 1879 when an eclipse of the sun let the spear carrying warriors close unseen with the British and their native levies. The Zulus slaughtered an entire column, 1200 men, but ultimately lost the war despite their courage and ferocity. How had that rhyming writer put it?
Whatever happens, we have got,
The Maxim gun, and they have not.
Suddenly as the boys were kissing and stroking each other, spear carrying warriors emerged from the woods. The white men were cut off from their weapons and clothing and quickly subdued, their wrists tied behind their backs, a noose put around their necks to serve as a lead. The young men were led stark naked from their trysting place back to the district office. The natives purposely dragged them through thorn bushes or thistles. Soon they were bleeding from dozens of minor cuts and pricks, footsore, and very frightened.
Lt. Duchamp's command had been wiped out in a surprise attack aided by poison slipped into their food. Only the residence still stood. The other buildings had been burnt down. Jean's major domo Maloto was still alive, beaten up, and, like them, in bondage. Warriors had broken into the liquor stores, and many were drunk. One of the leaders of the uprising was the witch doctor Nkobo. He spoke through Maloto, having him translate his words.
"This is the beginning of the end for your tyranny over our people. Soon all Africa will rise up to throw out the white man."
"What tyranny?" Jean countered. "We brought peace between the tribes, law and order, and the benefits of civilization. We suppressed the slave trade."
"Silence, white dogs! Do you think we haven't been watching, you and your disgusting couplings. This is what you have brought to Africa: your unnatural lusts for other males. For this alone you shall die."
"If I weren't tied up..." Henri began.
"Then we shall untie you Lieutenant. Let us see how well you do against one of our warriors. If you survive, we may let you live. Both of you."
They formed a ring and gave Henri a spear. He held the unfamiliar weapon uncertainly. Jean nodded to him encouragingly. Now Henri had trained with rifle, pistol, and saber, and he did not lack in courage, but this was new to him, its weight quite unlike a bayonet on the end of a rifle. An officer did not use a rifle much anyway, and the bayonet was nearly obsolete in the days of breechloaders. It did give a soldier close-in protection in colonial warfare if faced by a foe before he could reload.
A giant warrior confronted the naked Frenchmen, and their duel began. It was more like an execution. Henri had little chance against the man's greater strength and reach and his familiarity with the spear. Spear fighting features nimble footwork. The smaller man was actually more agile, but he could not take advantage of it. The style of fighting he had learned for the bayonet was to plant the back foot and step forward with your weight behind your thrust.
The warrior prolonged the combat, stabbing and cutting but not going for a mortal blow till Henri gave him a couple of minor cuts. That made the warrior more careful, blocking every thrust the Frenchman made. Soon both boys had tears in their eyes, Henri from frustration, Jean from witnessing the slow murder of his lover. Finally when Nkobo decided he had impressed his warriors enough, he called out and the giant combatant drove his blade into Henri's belly. Henri fell mortally wounded.
During the combat another contingent of warriors had arrived and had witnessed the finale. Jean ran to Henri's side. He could not take his soldier lover into his arms, because they were bound. As Henri died, Jean knelt next to him and sobbed for his loss. This beautiful young man was now so much dead meat. Nkobo smiled at this. He shouted a command for Jean to be killed too, but the chief of the new contingent countermanded the order.
This chief was named Kalundi. He recognized Jean as the man who had slain the rogue elephant and had given the ivory to the families of the dead. Jean was an official who had never cheated workers Ñ unlike his predecessor Ñ and had recently help recover villagers seized as slaves. Jean had guessed where the slavers would go next and telegraphed for soldiers to intercept them and return them to their village. Kalundi insisted that in simple justice Jean deserved a chance to live. They owed him that much even though they were at war and he and the young French officer just slain were enemies.
After some arguing back and forth, Nkobo saw it would be to his advantage to yield on this point. A reputation for magnanimity, feigned though it might be, would strengthen his political power. He agreed to the ritual of the Run of the Spears and signaled for warriors to cut Jean's bonds.
Five spearman from Kalundi's contingent threw their spears as far as they could, the second standing where the first spear had fallen, then the third where the second spear had fallen, and so forth. Maloto explained that this was the head start they would give Jean. He must run for his life for the warriors would surely slay him. Five warriors were singled out for the pursuit from Nkobo's men. If they were successful, they would bring back Jean's head as proof. The big warrior who had slain Henri insisted on leading them. Kalundi laughed at the thought that the lumbering giant could catch a nimble boy like Jean, but the man shook his head and retorted that the other warriors would run the young white man down. He wanted to be in on the kill.
Kalundi rather hoped Jean would get away, though he did not give much for his chances. He had done what he could. His men had thrown their spears as far as possible to give the white boy a decent head start. Still, the young white man was small and with a shorter stride than the warriors. He was unaccustomedly barefoot whereas the black warriors were used to going unshod. Even so it was a chance. He gave Jean a water bottle and let him drink his fill. Nkobo glared at this favoritism but said nothing. Jean nodded his gratitude.
"I hope you get as much of a head start, Maloto." he told his assistant.
"I am afraid all I will get is a spear in the belly. Good luck, my friend."
As Jean stepped to the starting line, the giant warrior finished Maloto off. Jean glanced at the bodies of his friend and his lover then trotted to the far end of the line of spears, then took off running for all he was worth.
4: Run of the Spears
Jean ignored the unaccustomed wear and tear on his bare feet as he ran from the compound. He heard a shout behind him that told him the warriors had set out after him. At first he stayed on the military road as it was easier on his feet, but he knew he had to leave it soon. He could not hope to simply outdistance his pursuers, even if he were actually faster than any single runner of theirs.
The warriors would use a well proven strategy to run the white man down, same as wolves used. All but one of the group backs off the pace while a single warrior bounds forward at full speed. This forces Jean to run faster too. The warrior cannot maintain such a pace indefinitely, but neither can the white man fleeing before him. After a while the warrior drops back, letting another warrior force the pace. The first warrior lets the others pass him. He will catch up as best he can after getting his wind back. Jean meanwhile has to maintain this killer pace nearly full time. Eventually he must drop from exhaustion.
This is a winning strategy with only one flaw. When a front runner closes on his prey, he is thereby far from his comrades. Jean might be able to overcome him in a one-to-one fight. Of course Jean is unarmed while the warrior has both spear and knife. Alternatively Jean might shake his pursuers long enough to hide briefly, change direction, maybe even double back. He had started off running eastward, toward Belgian territory and where the French military were concentrating their forces. Fort Dinard lay to the north. Those were the directions they would expect him to run. Somehow, he had to shake them long enough to run west to German territory in Kamerun. It had been more than twenty years since the Franco Prussian War and it would be another twenty before hostilities resumed in the First World War. He could expect the Germans to help a fellow European.
A canebrake was his first opportunity. It was a long stretch of bamboo which Jean knew from previous hunts had no real game trails through it. He darted off the road and into the bamboo, his small lithe body slipping easily between the stalks. Although it was slower going than an all out run, he could make better time through it than the large boned warriors who were chasing him, especially the giant. Also, he managed to catch his breath a bit. The bamboo stretched nearly a kilometer the long way but only two hundred meters across, so he was soon out of it and into more open country. That is when he poured it on, trying to put some real distance between them, distance that would give him options.
Although his position was perilous, at least he started out with a full belly and had drunk his fill of water. He was small and should be able to hide fairly easily. His blond hair was a definite problem. It would stand out against the green of the vegetation. Maybe he could plaster mud on his hair later or weave a cap of leaves. No help for it now though. He hoped for rain. That would help conceal him and wash out any tracks Jean was leaving. His pursuers were too close for him to try to disguise his tracks.
Unexpectedly he came across a small river, swift flowing from where it drained the low mountains to the north. The water was rough, with eddies and whirlpools and rapids, but he had to chance it. Better to drown than to be killed by their spears. Even worse was to be taken alive. The warriors would not kill him right away. He could expect rape and torture before they cut his head off. He plunged in, relying on his skills as a swimmer. Even for someone as good in the water as Jean it was a close thing, but he made it across then set off into the jungle, walking for a bit while his got back his strength. Behind him he heard a shout of frustrated rage. The warriors had found where he had swum across.
The big warrior wanted to try crossing the river, but it was too swift and too deep to ford. One of the men lost his footing and disappeared below the surface of the water. They caught a glimpse of his corpse floating downstream but did not give chase. All the remaining warriors backed out of the water, jabbering excitedly until one of them reminded them of the log bridge several kilometers upstream. So they trooped off in that direction, not even running. They would have to try to pick up Jean's trail on the other side. Well, maybe they were not swimmers, but they were experienced trackers and hunters. They would soon sniff out the young white man who had temporarily shaken them off their trail.
Meanwhile Jean tried to turn his temporary advantage into a permanent one. He realized the warriors would cast about for his trail and come after him. He ran along a sloping rock bed to conceal his tracks, left impressions in the soft ground just beyond, then stepped back through his own footprints onto the rock. He left in a different direction entirely, swinging on some overhanging branches to a dry spot where he would not leave footprints. His grandfather had taught his something of tracking even though Jean himself did not care much for blood sports.
Finally he got far enough ahead to lay a trap. It was simple enough, footprints leading into a pit of quicksand, hastily concealed by reeds stuck along the edge. He could not hope to trap the entire party, strung out as they were, but he might get the lead runner, as indeed happened. His pursuers were two down as he could see from a vantage point just below the skyline in the distance. Now there were only three warriors plus the giant.
If only Jean could get a weapon. Being naked as a fugitive was no fun at all. He had always liked running around naked, sleeping in the raw, swimming and frolicking with a boyfriend without clothing. Now he knew what that old phrase about girding one's loins meant. He felt so vulnerable without clothing, so utterly naked! It was entirely psychological, he realized, but no less real for that. Besides his feet hurt, and that was real. He simply ignored the cuts and welts on his hide as he forced his way through the forest. Insects buzzed around annoyingly. Maybe they didn't bite or sting him so often as other folk, but he was hardly immune. So far so good on finding clean water to drink. He might find himself hungry tomorrow, but food could wait. He needed distance. No more laying traps. That last one had made his enemies cautious. Time now for speed.
The night found Jean up in a tree hoping he did not have to share it with a leopard or a tree snake. All he had with him was a stick he had picked up. It was a stout cudgel but that was all. Tomorrow he would strike out for German Kamerun, hoping to get away completely. During the night he dreamed of Henri. At first it was a dream of their love together but it soon turned tragic. He woke up with tears in his eyes. He vowed he would survive, if only to see justice done.
The next day Jean woke up sore and hungry. His body was still tired though he was wide awake. His feet were cut up and bruised; he had cuts and welts from bamboo thorns and brush. His back ached from where he had cradled himself between two close branches of the tree. He dropped to the ground then set off walking, slowly at first till he worked out the worst of the stiffness. The he fell into a ground covering routine of alternately trotting then walking a half kilometer at a time. He hoped he had thrown off his pursuers, but a recon from the top of a ridge showed two men were still after him: the giant and one other. Good. At least he had made them split their forces, uncertain whether he had continued east or had doubled back to the west, as indeed he had. Two to one and both armed were not good odds.
By the afternoon of the third day, Jean was ravenous. All the running had burned up his energy stores, not that he could pack away much in the way of reserves on his slight frame. He needed food, and not just the few grubs he had found under logs and such. Maloto had claimed they were delicacies. Well, the French ate snails and frogs legs, so who was he to complain. Still he wished he had paid more attention to Maloto's explanation of edible roots and fruits. The natives had a practical wisdom about their land, one he wished had had availed himself of more than he had. One thing he did remember is that many plants were poisonous. Plants were at perpetual war with insects and herbivores, and toxins were their weapons of choice. Even the humble domestic tomato plant was poisonous in every single part except its fruit. (Tomatos really are fruits, botanically a true berry.) He could not risk slipping into a village to look for food, even if he came across one. Villages held warriors and dogs.
He stumbled across a dead antelope that buzzards and jackals fed off, but its flesh was too putrid to risk. Better hungry than sick. He did manage to club a catfish to death as it crawled on land between ponds. He ate it raw, with no way to light a fire, which he could not have risked anyway. That would have to sustain him. He realized he must be close to the border now with German ruled lands. Of course, that was just a line on a map. There wouldn't be a border post. There were no roads to Kamerun or through it, for that matter, west to the lands of the British owned Royal Niger Company. Each colonial power built its roads and its very few railroads to its own coastal ports.
Jean realized he must be quite a sight: a small blond youth, pretty as a girl, naked, sweaty, battered and bruised, slapping at bugs, tramping barefoot and bare-ass across the African countryside, fleeing like a hunted animal. Now he knew how the big game he occasionally hunted felt. Like them he was looking for some way to shake off pursuit, forcing himself to keep going when his body cried out for rest, ignoring hurts that would otherwise seem incapacitating. If he survived, he did not think he would ever again hunt purely for sport.
On the fourth day he heard a shout behind him. It was the other warrior, not the giant, racing forward to catch Jean and engage him till his ally could run up to them. Jean had discarded his cudgel for speed. It was just a small naked youth against a strong and armed warrior. Jean's only advantages were speed, agility, and the savate he had learned several years earlier and still practiced regularly. A small man sometimes needs an equalizer. Jean got lucky. The warrior ran right at him instead of simply trailing closer till he had caught his breath. Jean dodged the first spear thrust, made clumsy by the warrior's fatigue, and got in close enough to kick him hard in the groin and then in the belly. He snatched the spear from the warrior's grasp and clouted the man in the head with the butt of the spear. This was not from any sense of mercy, just the quickest way to put him out of action as the giant lumbered into the fray.
Suddenly a warning shot rang out and Jean looked around to see a German officer leading a platoon of shikari (native soldiers) march up to them. The German pointed to the African warrior ready to give the order to shoot, but Jean forestalled him.
"Nein," he said in his schoolboy German. "Er is fuer mich. No, he is mine.Ó With a nod the German acknowledged Jean's claim and stood back for the final combat.
The giant warrior was confidant he could kill the boy, no matter what happened afterwards. He was far stronger and more experienced with a spear. It was true that the cuts Henri had inflicted on him had festered, untended, poisoning his system, but he had every reason to expect a victory.
Unfortunately for him, his smaller opponent did not use his captured weapon as he expected. He used it like a quarter staff. The huge warrior had no good counter to such tactics. A man with a stout staff is a match for a man with a spear or a sword any day, at least defensively. Jean soon rang blows and shallow cuts off the giant's knees, arms, and ribs, before driving the butt of the spear into his throat crushing the windpipe. The man fell to the ground mortally wounded. Jean plunged his spear into the man's belly to let him feel the hurts he had inflicted on his lover only days before.
As the man died, Jean turned to the German officer, a Leutnant Krueger, to explain what he, a French civil servant, was doing in German territory stark naked and running from native warriors. The shikaris took the unconscious warrior prisoner. Under questioning he confirmed Jean's amazing story.
The German officer did not know which was more admirable. The young man's courageous conduct or his extraordinary beauty. Even battered and bruised he was lovely, slender yet muscular, tanned, taut and toned with narrow shoulders, washboard abdominal muscles, well defined Adam's girdle, and narrow hips. His hands were small and his legs slender with veins prominent under the skin because of his low body fat. No hair interrupted the flow of its faultless lines. Cock and balls were reasonably large but nothing really, compared to the endowments of the natives, something that had always chagrined the twenty-five year old German.
The young Frenchman had said he was nineteen, but could pass for two years younger, naked and hairless as he was. The boy had one of those faces that literally turned heads. Fine features, high cheekbones, straight nose, his eyes limpid pools of green. Krueger hoped they could spend some time together. His own fiancee was so far away in Danzig, and this French boy was so very pretty and so very close and so very naked.
Well first things first. Duty required that he extend every hospitality to a fellow European in distress. The boy had collapsed from complete exhaustion after his battle with the giant, everything finally catching up with him. Even so, he looked like an angel, as his unconscious body lay in the litter his men made to carry him back to camp. His muscles must be sore. Yes, Krueger would offer the lad a massage once they got him back to camp and cleaned up and rested. As so it went, though Jean was polite in refusing the officer's subtle advances. It was much to soon to think of another man, only days after losing Henri.
5: France
Months later, Grandfather Thibault with Jean's mother Marie at his side looked on as his grandson, in his best Colonial Service uniform, received a decoration for valor in a formal ceremony at the Colonial Ministry building in Paris. Maybe Jean was not a soldier, but he had carried out his duty courageously. Jean's story was in all the papers, adding yet another proud chapter to the family legend. Jean's account of his adventures had given credit to Henri for a brave death and his personal thanks for wounding the native giant enough to give Jean a chance to defeat him in personal combat.
The general was also proud of the way Jean had played peacemaker in Africa once the rebellion was put down. The natives really had no answer to the Maxim gun or mortars, so resistance collapsed quickly. His superior Malherbe had lost his nerve and fled the country entirely, so Jean was briefly the ministry's senior man on the scene. At Jean's insistence, Chief Kalundi was pardoned and coopted into the newly reformed governmental structure. The chief's wisdom helped heal the wounds that war had inflicted on his land. Nkobo had died in the last battle, throwing himself on French bayonets rather than surrender.
Yet Jean still hadn't settled down. Recently he had taken up with that artist fellow. Not the General's sort really, but it was Jean's life to live, after all, so he had made his peace with the man. Paul DesRoches was a water colorist and sketch artist, and illustrator, some half dozen years older, tall and well built. He was brought in originally to illustrate Jean's forthcoming book about his adventures. Soon he stayed over for the night, then opened up a studio in the chateau. From the start the young men had adjoining rooms. Within two weeks they stopped pretending they did not share a bed.
Except for a rendering of the awards ceremony, all the illustrations would be of Jean nude, 'drawn from life', as the phrase went, to titillate the public with views of the lovely French youth without a stitch on. Even the frontispiece would show the boy bare from head to hips. Paul had indicated that his model would be completely nude for the sitting. A bit scandalous, but beauty such as Jean's should be preserved from the ravages of time. The general would get the actual portrait to hang in his den. In time it would grace a museum.
Paul had Jean model for the actions he wanted to capture for the book. The boy ran across remote sections of the grounds entirely naked, climbed trees, swam, sparred with a big stableman who played the giant warrior, or craftily laid his quicksand trap. That was one of the most scandalous of the illustrations. It showed Jean from behind, bending over, presenting his taut buns and cleavage to the reader, and there in the shadows between his legs a suggestion of male genitalia with a hint of an orifice just above. The general had to admit the artist had a way with the male nude. You could see the tension in the legs of the runner or the muscle bundles of the forearm stand out as Jean gripped the spear like a quarterstaff or the sweat rolling down a bare chest and belly.
Jean was actually shown twice in one illustration. He modeled Henri in his fight with the giant, with Henri's face drawn from a photograph. In the background stood a trussed up Jean, looking on anxiously, in one of only three illustrations with full frontal nudity.
Jean had asked for his grandfather's help in writing his story. The old man was famous for the cogency of his orders in the field and his after action reports. Instead of giving the lad detailed advice, he simply gave him a copy of U.S. Grant's memoirs, in English. They both were fluent in that language.
"Try to write as well as Grant did in his memoirs, and you will be fine. Imagine Grant writing his chapters in French. Then do likewise."
One day the general walked in on them unexpectedly in the studio DesRoches had set up at the chateau. He found Jean strung up by the wrists with Paul working him over with a light whip.
"What are you doing to my grandson?" the general demanded in a firm tone.
Jean was surprised and embarrassed and hurriedly assured his grandfather that nothing was amiss.
DesRoches quickly added. "I was just getting him ready for his next pose as a whipped boy. The welts are for verisimilitude. I am doing nothing to Jean that he doesn't want done to him."
Jean confirmed his claim.
"See, grandfather, I wasn't really bound at all," he said holding up the loose length of rope. It's just a pose.
"I see," the old man said. "Very well, but don't show your mother the finished picture, that is all I ask of you."
"And Jean, I don't remember a whipping in the story of your capture and escape. So?"
Jean colored, a full body blush, as he stammered something about a second folio of drawings, perhaps for a work of fiction that might follow his chronicle. Indeed, there had been some talk of such, but that was not the real reason for the drawings or the light whipping.
"I see... Very well. Just make sure you lock the door to your studio from now on, DesRoches."
"My fault, grandfather," Jean admitted.
"In that case, better give him another few licks as a reminder." the general said, departing with a nod to DesRoches.
"I assure you sir, I shall give due attention to the boy's rump."
That drew a harrumph and a chuckle from the old man. Second folio indeed. Erotic drawings for their own delectation was more like it.
A few days later, the old general was riding and came upon the two young men in an isolated corner of the estate. Jean was posing and Pierre was sketching him. Both were in the nude, bodies wet from a swim in the creek. They made courtly and ironic bows to the old man who rode away smiling. Well, they made a lovely couple, and Jean needed someone a bit older in his life anyway. He hoped the older man realized that their relationship required discretion. Look what happened to the poets Verlaine and young Rimbaud after the took up with each other. An international scandal. Both had come to bad ends.
For his part, Jean knew that he would always remember Henri and what they had shared in Africa, but life was for the living and for now he would share his with Paul.
Peace returned to the land where Jean had served. There was little fighting in the First World War which ended with German Kamerun split between the French and British. There was no fighting in the Second World War when the colonial governments mostly declared for the Free French. In time, nearly seven decades after Jean's time in Africa, in 1960, the French colonies were set free to decide their own destiny. Africa's sons would now rule their own lands, for better or for worse. And so it has been even to this day.
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When performing a media test, how does one specify the media density? I wouldn't think a one-size-fits all test would work reliably across 5.25" low density 300rpm, low density 360rpm, and high density 360rpm.
Media test density
When performing a media test, how does one specify the media density? I wouldn't think a one-size-fits all test would work reliably across 5.25" low density 300rpm, low density 360rpm, and high density 360rpm.
Whatever density is selected in the pull-down menu is what is used for the media test.
Interesting. For some reason the latest versions (at least 1.95 and 1.94) show completely random (not at all in the same place each time) track failures testing 5.25" disks that test fine with the earlier versions, and oddly switching density seems to make no difference at all.
I normally test 5.25" double density disks in a 1.2mb drive using low density mode and 80 tracks (AKA quad density and decent double density disks should pass that test).
At least versions 1.91 and earlier seem to still work properly, and disks that previously tested good still test good.
I did notice that 1.95/1.94 does not seem to give random errors when using a 360k floppy drive or a 1.44mb floppy drive. Only with my 1.2mb drives. And yes, I did try another 1.2mb drive and double checked the functionality of the current 1.2mb drive just to be sure.
Anyway for the moment I will just use 1.91 to get things done. If there was a 1.92 or 1.93 I didn't have those handy to test with.
This is why I don't like "upgrading" software.
The earlier versions used the exact same microseconds for every single track. That resulted in a problem for me when hand testing each SuperCard Pro board because if the writing didn't work, the test would pass because of a previous write. I changed the microseconds used for the test so it changes randomly for each track/side to prevent this problem from happening. The window for failures was also narrowed a bit.
Take a look at a track that fails using the editor/analyzer. Read the track that fails and look at the flux display. It should be pretty obvious why it failed. I have no issues here with the 1.2MB drives that I use - they all pass the media tests just fine with standard DSDD disks. Most people use 1.2MB drives, and I have not had anyone else report this.
It's not quite so obvious to me. The tracks look good to me in the analyzer except for one invalid bit that occurs exactly 1/4th the way in to every track.
It took me a minute to figure out why this was, but I see that the media tester writes tracks that are longer than the actual track. Obviously to ensure there are no gaps on slower drives. At 300RPM it seems to overwrite about 1/16 of the first track, but on 360RPM (what I'm using) it overwrites about 1/4th. So I guess that part is normal.
Anyway, here is a dump of a media-tested disk.
I used a better quality (labeled 3M) disk just to be extra sure. Like the other disks it tests fine elsewhere.
I clicked "ignore" on each track so it would not re-write. It reported the following "bad" tracks and heads:
1 1
6 1
13 0
15 1
21 0
27 1
29 0
31 0
34 0
34 1
37 0
38 0
42 0
52 0
53 0
53 1
54 0
61 0
69 1
72 0
72 1
77 0
Viewing directly they look more or less normal to me.
But each time I test it will be completely random different tracks.
The 1.2mb drives in question are Teac FD-55GFR drives and the errors are reported at both 300RPM and 360RPM settings.
It could be that your power supply is flakey and when the write is turned off it smears the last bitcell written. I am currently out of town, but I will be back tomorrow and check out your file. Are ythey cleaning the heads frequently while using these old disks? That is not an option.
It is powered by the PC's power supply, which is a fairly hefty supply. That's an interesting idea though, so I tried it with an external power brick. Same deal. Also tried it with a different computer. Same results. That also rules out some suspicions I had about the USB ports.
Of course dirty heads were the first thing I thought of. I've been at it multiple times with my cleaner disk, as well as gave it a q-tip rub down for good measure. I also verified that it worked normally when connected to a PC FDC - it formats/reads/writes perfectly, and tried another FD-55GFR from a different system, with the same results. The SCP seems to read disk images fine.
It does occur to me that whatever this issue is could be related to why I can't properly write write-spliced disks. Until just recently I have mainly just been reading disk images.
Would exact drive speed have anything to do with it? I did notice the drive actually reports around 361RPM, but there is no way to adjust that on this drive model.
Very interesting. So that isn't supposed to be there. Since both Teac drives did this, it must be something in this specific revision. Both are the "149-U" revision.
I can't think of a normal use case from back in the day where drive makers would have taken this behavior in to consideration. So, logically this behavior could vary from drive to drive.
It's not a problem when a smear occurs between sectors or in the track gap. Maybe I should change the test program so that it is more laxed. I use 149-U drives though, and they work fine.
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Xinhua News Agency cheers the decline of American leadership
Australia's Lowy Institute has published the results of its 2018 public opinion poll: 42 percent of the survey respondents said Trump's presidency is a critical threat to their country — higher than foreign political interference (41 percent) and China's growing power (36 percent). Only 30 percent of Australians "have either 'a lot' or 'some' confidence in Donald Trump 'to do the right thing regarding world affairs,'" while 43 percent are confident about Xi Jinping's leadership.
Meanwhile, the South China Morning Post points out that while "many foreign nations expressed regret at the United States' decision to pull out of the United Nations' top human rights body, the move could be a boon for China as it leaves it with one fewer critic in the group."
Xinhua News Agency is enjoying all of this: It has published a special feature (in Chinese) on Trump's "withdrawal from the global community" (推出国际群 tuīchū guójìqún). Simon Rabinovitch, Shanghai correspondent for the Economist, tweeted about it:
Deep irony in some of the actions that China highlights. Take the TPP: America's departure was a gift for China, reducing the threat of a united front against its trade practices. But now China describes it as an American betrayal of the international community. Win-win, as they say.


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Rainer Maria? More like Rainer Boring. The lack of rock and only prettiness make this boring. It would be ok if the prettiness was really good, but it's just kind of bland. The female vocals aren't really working for me either. I'm sure she has a good voice, but it adds to the already stale feeling. At the same time it feels somewhat poppy. As you can tell this really isn't my thing at all, but at least it doesn't sound like everything else. Wow, this review is just as boring as the specimen on trial!
Wow. This band changed. A lot. Last I had heard of this band was A Better Version Of Me which I believe was their last full length record. Well something happened in between as this new record is quite a bit darker than that record. Caithlin's vocals are allot stronger than they have ever been and really steps into the spotlight as the front of this band. I would suggest this record, even if you weren't a fan of the old stuff. You might find something you like.
Long Knives Drawn is quite a good rock record. Each song is well-written and sculpted quite perfectly by Rainer's members. Highlights on the record, to me, are the opening track "Mystery and Misery", "Ears Ring", and the final song "Situation Relation". I've never been a fan of Rainer Maria, or even heard too much by them, but I have been hearing that this album is more 'rock' than their previous releases. If you're a long time fan, you might not be as into this as their older stuff, but on the other hand, if you've never really liked them, you might come across a new found enjoyment for Rainer Maria. Sometimes I have trouble getting past the vocals. Call me AC Slater, but I sometimes have trouble getting into bands with female vocalists, because, typically, the vocals sound like any other girl singing for choir. This band falls into that trap on occasion. The vocals start to become bland and unrecognizable from many other female vocalists. I still, however, recommend checking out this band, especially if you're a fan of Death Cab for Cutie or Pretty Girls Make Graves.
6.666666666666666666666666667 / 10
Reviewed by 3 writers.
Finally. This record has taken forever to actually see the light of day. Rainer Maria is normally consistent (at least that is the way it seemed) with their time between ...
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So who you got? On the surface things look pretty good, with the stacked lineup of local and international talent not demanding too many ultimatums. Doja Cat or Denzel Curry might be a spanner in the works for some, as may the timing of Triple One and JPEG Mafia, but either way you've got a couple weeks to work that out in the group chat. One thing is for sure though, with set times out, you can bet a number of fans (like us) have turned the excitement dial up to 11.
The news comes fresh off the back of the announcement for this year's Triple J Unearthed winners who have all been added to the Listen Out lineup in their respective cities. Fans can now also look forward to seeing Jamo (VIC), Nerve (QLD), Hoodzy (WA) and A.GIRL (NSW) grace their local Listen Out stage. Check out the set times below:
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I am a retired USAF Veteran, and Salvation Army Soldier. Memorial Day is a day to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in defense of America and the freedoms and liberties we cherish. Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines all.
"We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security, is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time testify to the present or the coming generations, that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided Republic. If other eyes grow dull, and other hands slack, and other hearts cold in the solemn trust, ours shall keep it well as long as the light and warmth of life remains to us."
—General John Logan, General Order No. 11, May 5, 1868
The time to eulogize Salvationists is during Salvation Army week, perhaps Founders Day, but not during a time dedicated to our honored dead killed in action. There can be no comparison. To do so dilutes the purpose and the sanctity of Memorial Day.


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This is the ultimate guide to the cost of IT security. Select the details that match your company to see the average budgets your industry peers spend on IT security (by region, industry, size), what security measures they take, the major threat vectors they encounter, how much money they lose as a result, and what you can do to avoid being compromised. The Calculator has been created as an adjustable tool. The data presented can be updated and/or added to over time based on insights from customers and Kaspersky.
Industrial and manufacturing companies are suffering most from a threat that is commonly overlooked-generic malware, which gets right inside the industrial network. This means the implementation of cybersecurity solutions, that are designed for industrial and manufacturing organizations and that are aware of specific OT assets, are imperative. To further improve cybersafety, it is recommended that these organizations invest in cybersecurity services that include regular cyber awareness training.
Industrial and manufacturing companies in the Japan and APAC region are more likely to be the victims of targeted attacks and suffer incidents related to OT infrastructure with external connections. Enforcing the use of specialized industrial network monitoring and anomaly detection tools should make all industrial communications transparent.


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Spain's problems were compounded Monday when the struggling European nation reported that its economy sank into recession in the first three months of the year. The report comes on the heels of a Standard & Poor's downgrade of the nation's credit rating last week, and marks the nation's second trip into negative growth territory in the last four years. Making matters worse, economists do not expect the Eurozone's fourth-largest economy to return to fiscal growth until next year as it continues to make deep spending cuts to avoid surpassing EU debt limits and the entire European bank sector continues to struggle amid the sovereign debt crisis throwing the region's economies into turmoil.
Spanish authorities are dealing with increasing public opposition to austerity measures, but also must try to appease its EU peers, who are calling for spending cuts to prove the nation is addressing its growing debt crisis. Keeping EU partners like Germany and France will be vital if Spain continues to slip further into recession and requires bailouts to keep afloat. Even though Spain's first-quarter economic contraction of 0.3 percent was slightly lower than the 0.4 percent decline expected by economists, it nonetheless illustrates that the economy is not growing.
A recession is generally declared whenever a nation's economy contracts for two consecutive quarters, which last happened in Spain during the third and fourth quarters of 2009. With Spain's considerable debt problems, demand for its bonds has fallen sharply in recent months, with their yields rising to right around 6 percent. Economists are keeping a close eye on the bond yields, as economists generally view yields at 7 percent or higher as unsustainable for an economy.
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As you prepare for your baby's birth, you may have considered the benefits of delaying clamping the umbilical cord. Lots of research has shown delayed cord clamping to be especially beneficial for premature babies, with more recent studies showing that waiting to cut the cord until at least a minute after birth significantly improves a baby's iron and hemoglobin levels and appears to reduce a child's risk of anemia years later. Now, a new study, published in the Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology, shows that delayed cord clamping for preterm infants may also reduce their chances of dying in the hospital.
What is delayed cord clamping?
In delayed cord clamping, doctors wait to clamp a baby's umbilical cord for at least 30 to 60 seconds after birth to allow more oxygen- and nutrient-rich blood to flow from mom to baby. Beginning in the early 2000s, research began to show that waiting longer than the suggested 15 to 20 seconds reduced a baby's risk of needing a blood transfusion. Later research showed doing so also reduced short- and long-term risk of iron deficiencies due to that extra dose of mom's blood after delivery. Early research focused mostly on benefits for premature babies, but later studies showed similar benefits for full-term babies.
Following the positive outcomes of all of these studies, in 2016 the American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) officially updated its policy for ob-gyns, suggesting they wait at least 30 to 60 seconds to clamp not just preemies but all healthy babies.
What the study looked at
Researchers pulled 18 studies of 2,834 infants born before 37 weeks gestation. They then compared babies who had their cords clamped within the first 30 seconds to those who had their cords clamped later across a number of measures, including whether the babies passed away in the hospital and other assessments of health like Apgar scores and temperature. (To note, the study didn't look at cord milking — an alternative to delayed cord clamping where doctors push blood down the umbilical cord to baby a few times before it's clamped.)
What it found
For most of the babies who had delayed clamping, doctors waited for at least 60 seconds after birth to clamp. Delayed cord clamping significantly reduced preterm babies' risk of dying in the hospital, and it cut their risk of blood transfusion by 10 percent. There were no differences in other measures of their health between the two groups, including the babies' Apgar scores and temperature, as well as their risk of other conditions common to premature babies including intubation and mechanical ventilation to help them breathe, hemorrhage, brain injury, chronic lung disease, necrotizing enterocolitis (an intestinal disease), sepsis (a complication due to infection) or retinopathy of prematurity (an eye condition).
As with past studies, babies with delayed cord clamping were at greater risk of polycythemia — a condition that's the opposite of anemia, where a baby has too many red blood cells in his or her blood. Babies were also at greater risk of hyperbilirubinemia, a condition linked to polycythemia where the breakdown of excess red blood cells leads to an increase in bilirubin levels, causing newborn jaundice (yellowing of the eyes and skin due to pigments in bilirubin). Both conditions are relatively common among both preterm and full-term infants and usually don't cause problems for babies.
What this means for you
Many studies have shown minimal risks and potentially big upsides to delayed cord clamping. So unless you experience a medical emergency, it's probably a good idea to plan on delayed clamping at your birth. Given ACOG's position on the practice, odds are good that your doctor is already planning to wait to clamp your baby's umbilical cord. Still, it doesn't hurt to have a discussion about cord clamping before you head to the hospital or birth center and to include your wishes in your birth plan.
Why More and More Hospitals Are Delaying Baby's First BathWhy Are Gentle C-Sections the Newest Trend in Birth Options?


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Cadiz Ivory 2 Tone Round Dining Table Set Inc 4 Chairs - £399 (RRP £659)
You save: 39%
Handcrafted To A High Standard
Constructed From Pine & Rubber Tree Wood
Ivory Paint Finish & Natural Timber Top
Curvaceous Pedestal Leg Support
Including Four Wooden Seat Chairs (RRP £99 Each)
Perfect For Shabby Chic Dining Rooms
Brand New End Of Line Product
Original Price Of This Stunning Dining Table With 4 Chairs Was £699
Low Cost National Delivery
This beautiful shabby chic dining table Set is a NEW end of line one off deal We only have one available and once it's gone, it's gone for good, so grab it quickly to avoid disappointment.
If you have any queries, please feel free to give us a tinkle on 01924 950599.
Metric: Length 188cm | Depth 98 cm | Height 92 cm
Inches: Length 70" | Depth 38½ " | Height 36"
Please Note:- All dimensions are approximate and should be used for guidance only.
Please ensure that you have measured the space required for this item before ordering, including all access routes to ensure that any products you order will fit into the room or place for which the product is finally intended.
DELIVERY WITHIN 10 MILES OF OUR FURNITURE OUTLET - Just £49.99 To Wakefield, Pontefract, Barnsley, Castleford, delivered. Please book click and collect if you live within 10 miles of WF9 5BZ or and then add a message to your order, or call us to order over the phone to reserve.
LOW COST NATIONAL DELIVERY ONLY £59.99 - Your order will be delivered to you approximately 6 to 8 weeks from date of ordering.
We will book your delivery with a 2 man carrier who will have your contact details, so once they've collected your order, they can get in touch with you to arrange a suitable 2 hour time slot for delivery, but please bear in mind, they operate during the daytime, not evenings, so you may have to make arrangements for someone to be home during office hours.
For our furniture deliveries we contract a professional furniture delivery team, who will carry your sofa to a ground floor room of choice and carriage. Please advise us if you need your order delivering to an upper floor.
DELIVERY TO SCOTLAND - (excluding Highland postcodes stated below) For lower region postcodes DD, DG,EH, G FK, KA, ML & TD please order as normal, then we'll just give you a call to take payment of the £50 surcharge over the phone. Please allow 8 to 10 weeks for delivery.
DELIVERY TO SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS We can arrange delivery to the Scottish Highlands, but if you live in one of the following postcodes areas please give us a tinkle and we'll get you a no obligation quote - KW, PA20 and above / IV16 and above and PH33 and above.
CLICK & COLLECT - Reserve online and we'll call to let you know when your order is available for you to collect from the The Interior Outlet furniture warehouse.
Delivery can also be arranged to France, so just give us a call or drop us a line for a no obligation quote.
If you have any queries, please feel free to give us a tinkle on 01924 950599
Want To Buy Over The Phone: If you prefer to speak to a friendly human, we love to speak to our customers, so just give us a tinkle on 01924 950599, you can then make your purchase over the telephone and we'll make all the arrangements to have your order delivered to you.
Want To Buy In Person?: You're welcome to pop in to our leading brand furniture shop to place your order. Whilst you're in store you can also check out our other amazing discounted premium branded furniture bargains at:-
The Interior Outlet - Sofa Outlet
5 Bank St
West Yorkshire,
Free parking is available at the rear of the shop right in front of Iceland and Home Bargains.
If you have any queries, please feel free to give us a tinkle on 01924 950599.
We want to assure you that you can buy with confidence when you purchase from The Interior Outlet, as we're passionate about making people happy, so want you to really love your online purchasing experience with us and therefore offer 100% Happiness guaranteed or your money back on most products, excluding items which are of a bespoke nature, such as made to order sofas, or items personalised in any way.
Damaged, Faulty Or Wrongly Delivered Goods
If your item is damaged in any way, or we got your order wrong, we will offer you an exchange or refund of the full purchase price, including the cost of delivery for sending the goods to you, and the cost of returning the goods to us, provided that you advise us of any damage or incorrect items within 24 hours of delivery.
See our full refund policy by clicking here and our full Terms & Conditions by clicking here
We're really nice people, so always offer the best possible customer service, of a kind rarely found on the high street and of a standard we would love to receive (but rarely do), so our clients can have the best possible furniture purchasing experience, whether it's in store or online.
Finally, why not see what other people say about us by clicking this link to the Facebook reviews, or you can also access the reviews by clicking on their box in the bottom right of the screen, or top of your screen if you're viewing on a mobile device.


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Download or Listen to this Persian Song Called "Aghoosh"
Artist of this song "Chaartaar"
Album Name "Daryaa Kojaast"
Genre of this artistic music is Persian.
Released year is 2018.
Endless Persian songs for any mood with AvazFarsi.
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- Chaartaar, Aghoosh, AvazFarsi, Persian Music
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Kaymed Thermaphase+ Harmonise 1600 Firm Edge Divan Set
Kaymed have over a century's expertise at the forefront of sleep technology and are the leading innovator in the gel and visco-elastic technologies.
Kaymed also offer a range of divan bases with a range of storage options available - choose from no storage, 2 Drawers, 2+2 drawers, 4 Drawers. Divan bases are available as a Firm Edge Divan with an inset pocket spring unit adding extra support and comfort. Available in a range of colurs, Kaymed also offer a range of Headboards in co-ordinating fabrics to add that finishing touch for a complete new look.
The Therma~phase+ Harmonise 1600 from Kaymed, has 1600* Pocket springs along with a layer of therma~phase+ visco elastic material and a copper infusion. Therma~phase+ is a pressure relieving high density material and contains unique phase-change crystals and copper particles. The phase-change crystals work by absorbing and releasing body heat constantly, this helps to maintain an ideal surface temperature to sleep in. The copper infusion works as a super-fast conductor, moving heat to and from the mattress surface. Copper is also naturally anti-bacterial and anti-viral. Working with the 1600* pocket springs, Therma~phase+ is designed to respond immediately to any body movements, giving optimum support and comfort which is essential for a restful night's sleep.
- 60mm Thermaphase+ material - Phase-change crystals and copper infusion
- 1600* Pocket Springs
- Turn free mattress, head to toe rotation recommended
- Anti-bacterial and anti-viral
- Suitable for bedframes
Suitable for up to 20-23 stone per side of mattress (left or right)
- Dimensions
- Single - 90cm(W)x190cm(L)x24cm(D) - Spring Count 912
- Double - 135cm(W)x190cm(L)x24cm(D) - Spring Count 1368
- King - 150cm(W)x200cm(L)x24cm(D) - Spring Count 1600
- Super King - 180cm(W)x200cm(L)x24cm(D) - Spring Count 1920
- Divan Base Dimensions (includes mattress depth)
- Single - 90cm(W)x190cm(L)x61cm(D)
- Double - 135cm(W)x190cm(L)x61cm(D)
- King - 150cm(W)x200cm(L)x61cm(D)
- Superking - 180cm(W)x200cm(L)x61cm(D)
- Max weight for drawers 7kg
*Spring Count based on King size mattress
- Colour: Beige, Black, Blue, Brown, Grey, Purple
- Divan Bed Size: Double, King Size, Single, Super King
- Firmness Rating: Medium
- Mattress Type: Pocket Sprung
- Storage: 2 Drawers, 2+2 Drawers, 4 Drawers, No Drawers
To see if we deliver to your area, and to review our delivery prices, please enter your postcode in the postcode checker box below.
We do hope that you will be pleased with your new purchase. However, if you change your mind when you receive the goods and wish to return them, we would be happy to take them back within 28 days of you receiving the goods, as long as goods are in a fully saleable condition, with all packaging.
We appreciate that you may want to check the items to ensure that they meet your full approval. In doing so however, we would like to point out that you have a 'duty of care' to look after the items. Please take care not to damage the goods (or packaging where it forms part of the goods), whilst you inspect them.
Please note that goods are returned at your expense. We strongly recommend that you use a signed for service as proof of postage cannot be taken as proof of receipt. For all items we can organise for a courier to come and collect the product you wish to return.
Collection charges by us will vary according to the product, but the charges are as follows :-
- Non-furniture product : the actual collection charge, or £10, whichever is higher
- Furniture products : the actual collection charge, or £50, whichever is higher.
Please rest assured that for all items you receive that are faulty or damaged, we will cover the cost of the return.
Please also be aware that we cannot offer refunds on perishable goods; pierced jewellery; duvets; pillows; mattresses; underwear; swimwear if the hygiene seal is not in place or has been broken.
If you decide to cancel an online Made to Order or Special order product, then it is highly unlikely that we can sell it to another customer at the full selling price. We therefore reserve the right to charge a cancellation fee of 25% of the order value.
Please note that if a product should fail to fit into the property, then we will charge £50 or the actual delivery cost of this failed delivery.
Items which are made to order will also be non returnable unless faulty or not as described. Your legal rights are not affected.
Click here to view our full Returns Policy


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Presidents Address – June 2019
Depending on how you look at it: we are in the finishing days of our financial year, or half way through our calendar. There have been some interesting developments in our industry these past months – particularly this period of 'Post-Hayne'. The findings of the Royal Commission have somewhat devalued the services from the Banking and Financial industries, and as the next generation of leaders, it is up to us as young professionals to rebuild trust with our Clients and Stakeholders. There is much to be done in this space, and YIPs is actively engaged in finding out these impacts and what we can do to reengineer the processes and relationships. Read more
Engaging Graduates
On 21 May 2019, YIPs WA attended a careers exhibition targeting soon to be high school graduates. The careers exhibition was a joint initiative by two of Perth's leading Northern Suburbs high schools - St. Mark's Anglican Community School & Sacred Heart College. Exhibitors included a representatives of a range of professional and trade associations and the exhibition was attended by over 500 students and parents. Read more
NT Conference 2018
With the NT Insurance Conference 2019 planning underway, it's a great chance to look back a what a fabulous two and a half days we had at the Northern Territory Insurance Conference 2018 in Darwin.
YIPs takes a very special role in organising this industry event and has done so since 2017 with the help of a dedicated team and our very own, Katie McGettigan, President of Young Insurance Professionals NT.
Every year the quality of the presentations and topic areas goes from strength to strength Read more
YIPs is partnering with CPD Anytime
In 2019, YIPs will be partnering with CPD Anytime to help our members track their development.
All our professional development events held across Australia that are accredited with development points by ANZIIF and/or NIBA will now be linked into the CPD Anytime platform. This will allow members who attend the event to simply scan the displayed QR code and the points will be instantly uploaded to their training register.
We really believe that the app will provide our members with a simple way to keep track of their professional development points, both from events held by YIPs, through to many other industry events and training programs. It will also save them time but not having to manually initial sign-in sheets!
All CPD activity, both scanned or manually entered, is automatically collated into a personalised training register and can be emailed and printed with a click of a button. Join online or download the App - but most importantly, let us know how it works for you!? @ firstname.lastname@example.com
5 Questions with: Jackson McDonald
Kicking off our new blog series that we're launching is Jackson McDonald. We decided to open this up so that you, our members, can learn more about the volunteers that keep YIPs running. So spend a minute with us & Jackson. Read more
The Big Meet 2019
The Big Meet is careers fair and was held in Sydney on 29 March 2019 and was attended by over 2,000 university students and graduates.
Widya Hasan, Jackson McDonald and Sylvia Quang volunteered with ANZIIF and participated in the event as ambassadors of the insurance industry. They answered questions about the various opportunities in the industry and how students and graduates could use the knowledge from the varying degrees to find a job in insurance, which surprised and enticed many. Read more


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Get in touch with us
Contact Us
Zejtun- House of Character
Zejtun, Malta
Zejtun- House of Character
Zejtun, Malta
Double fronted highly converted house of character. Set in the heart of Zejtun and dating back to the year 1546. Originally the property was 3 houses that were converted into one. Property consists of a welcoming hall, a formal sitting room and a separate fully fitted kitchen that leads to the dining room. From a small corridor one enters the old mill room having abundance of features throughout, with arched stone beams, complimenting this room is a fireplace and guest bathroom. Upstairs one finds three large double bedrooms (all ensuite, two with walk in wardrobes) all looking unto the large entertaining area with pool. The property comes with an interconnecting garage, two cellars, a large well and solar panels
Amenities and Features
Exterior Living Space : Terrace
Heating - Fuel Type : Gas
Appliances : Dishwasher
Appliances : Refrigerator
Appliances : Washer
Exterior Living Space : Balcony / Lanai
Exterior Living Space : Courtyard
Interior : Walk-in Closet
Kitchen Features : Kitchen Facilities
Heating Type : Solar Power


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I'm a substitute teacher from Canada. I am presently teaching my class about different biomes. The great barrier reef was a common interest amongst the students. I must admit I know nothing about this subject. I have done some research concerning these topics below, and unfortunately I have encountered some difficulties. I was hoping you could help me provide the proper information for my class and I. I'd greatly appreciate it. I would need this information by Tuesday the 25th, 2010 at the latest. Thank you so much.
This is one of those instances where Wikipedia is really the best place to start. There is a fantastic Wiki site that covers all of your questions:
The Great Barrier Reef was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1981 As such, its geology, ecology and other aspects are presented in detail on the UNESCO site as well:
There are many articles about the Great Barrier Reef offered over the years through the magazine Scientific American. You can search through the list of articles on their website by searching for "Great Barrier Reef":
I find these Sci Am articles to be a good teaching resource.
You don't say what age kids, but if they are elementary school age, I highly recommend the National Geographic site for kids - they have an interactive "online adventure" for the Great Barrier Reef, as well as links to websites and articles for the kids.


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Former Pa. Senator would say "no" to White House job
Gage Goulding, News Editor
December 14, 2018
WASHINGTON, D.C. -- A former Pa. Senator, who was named a potential pick for the White House Chief of Staff position, said he would decline the position. Republican Rick Santorum told CNN's Erin Burnett that he's "not interested" in the position. According to the Washington Post, Santorum was a potential...
City of Pittsburgh issues statement on presidential visit
Gage Goulding, Assistant News Editor
October 30, 2018
PITTSBURGH -- With President Donald Trump visiting Pittsburgh, the city's Department of Public Safety urged Pittsburgh to be patient. "We ask residents and commuters to plan ahead and avoid the East End of the city, and to exercise patience when encountering traffic delays this afternoon due to temporary...