Chembe raised his staff high in the air a signal for the chanting to stop.

Children of the tribes of Africa, he intoned. Congo glanced around for Megahni wondering how she felt about Chembes greeting. (Although Africa had coursed through her veins since the day she was born, being white, she was sometimes touchy about her African heritage.) Where was she? His eyes locked onto those of Mama Dawa, who smiled reassuringly. Feeling better, his attention shifted back to Chembe.

Later that night, around a blazing bonfire set under the sacred Indaba Tree, the village celebrated yet another rite.

Along with everyone else, Congo and Dan sat waiting, dressed in colorful animal costumes and body paint. Theyd chosen to mimic their favorite creatures Bijoux and Bannerman (both of whom were perched on a nearby branch, Bijoux with her little monkey paws wrapped around a piece of sugarvine Congo had tossed her, while Bannerman preened his brilliant turaco plumage).

This time it was Chief Mputu who delivered the invocation, inviting Nature itself to join in the festivities.

Creatures of the bushveldt, we ask your assistance, he called out in a quavering old mans voice. Enter our bodies. Flood them with your clean, untainted energy. Help us drive away the spirits of sickness. Show us how to move as you do, with stealth and grace, he implored, waving his canes in the air like the limbs of a giant praying mantis.

Suddenly he dropped the sticks and leapt nimbly into the firelight.

There was a long a-a-a-ah of amazement, as a sleek black panther appeared, crouching, where old, crippled Mputu had landed only an instant before. (Mputus shape-shifting ability was legendary, but it was always a huge treat to actually see him do it!)

Then, as the music swelled, the lithe animal prowled in and out of the flickering shadows, sometimes rearing on its hind-legs, sometimes crawling belly to the ground occasionally leaping and rolling, in a bizarre stalking dance that left everyone breathless.

Dan was up next, summoned to the dance floor by Mputu the panther. Flapping his big green banana-leaf wings he raced around the bonfire, fanning the flames, his bright red raffia headdress rising and falling with each flick of his head. He shivered at the unfamiliar vibration coursing through his body.

Its okay, being a bird is good for you, squawked Bannerman encouragingly as Dan maneuvered a tricky banking turn, with one eye on the huge yellow-eyed cat gaining on him.

Just in time Dan yelled for Congo, the clever, agile monkey to join him; and the audience oohed and aahed as the dancing bird and monkey, working together, were able, over and over, to stay clear of the needle-sharp claws of the stalking panther.

And so the stories and dances flowed into the night, as one after another, people were called into the circle of firelight to dance the very special dances of their totem animals.

Maybe Megahni dance now, piped up Lucys shrill little voice, just as Mama Dawa was finishing her solemn rocking chameleon shuffle.

Mama Dawa stopped dead in her tracks, her chameleon eyes swiveling a full 360 degrees around the shadowy ring of people. Then, slowly lifting her prehistoric head, she croaked, Megahni, pretty desert fox, who is sharp and bright, and able to melt into the desert sands at will, we call on you to treat us to the dance of the fennec.

Everything went quiet.

Thinking her chameleons voice hadnt carried far enough (chameleons very seldom use their voices), Mama Dawa repeated what shed just said this time shouting as loudly as she could.

Still there was no response.

Suddenly there was a scrabbling sound of loose gravel being scuffed aside, and they all leaned forward expectantly. Even the bonfire seemed to be holding its breathwaiting.

But in place of the desert fox they were all eager to see, a ferocious wild dog skidded into the firelight, in a flurry of dust.

KISU? gasped several people

Where is she? What have you done with Megahni? Kisu snapped, flecks of spit flying from his wild dog jowls as he advanced on Mama Dawa accusingly. I saw you leading her into the forest.

Me too, whispered Lulinda in Congos ear.

I followed after you both, barked Kisu. But like you, I was called back by the drums

Hah! hissed Mama Dawa contemptuously. Trying to shift the blame are we, Kisu? Knowing how much you hate the girl, what may I ask have YOU done with her?

ENOUGH! Mputu stepped swiftly between the snarling dog and prickly, arch-backed chameleon, dumping a bucketful of cleansing ash over both of them.

Then, raising his staff, he closed the ceremony by thanking the Nature Spirits and the Ancestors for attending, as well as everyone present for their enthusiasm in dancing with their totem animals.

Only then did he turn to Kisu and Mama Dawa, who were now fully back in their human forms, but still glaring at each other their black eyes gleaming out of their otherwise ghostly white, ash-covered faces.

We need to consult with the AncestorsNOW, he muttered urgently. Theres been some very dark magic here tonight!

Watching the elders disappear into the night, Congo had the feeling that an ice-cold hand had ripped him open and was now squeezing all the air out of his lungs. Was Mama Dawa lying? Or Kisu? And if so, would Mputu and the Ancestors be able to sort it out?

For a moment he considered running after the old chief, but he could think of nothing to say. He had absolutely no proof to back up the jumbled theories chasing each other round and round in his head concerning Megahnis disappearance. It was all just too far-fetched.