by Nahum Megged
Once again, Yakura went out and shortly returned to the hut. This time her eyes sparkled. She said that a decision had been reached, and from the look in her eyes, I could tell the decision was to her liking. The Nave explained to the shamans that the strangers belonged to opposing sides and hated each other.
“We seek different things,” the Nave said. “They seek the tears of the sun and the stones that sparkle like stars, while we seek the knowledge given by the first ones. When they get close to what they seek, they will start killing each other. They will never discover our truth, because they do not seek it. Therefore, there is no point in fighting them. The warriors must remain in the camp, while those living far from here can return to their villages.”
This was what the Nave had said, and the wise men asked the spirits if the gods were speaking through him or if he spoke the messages of the epakohe, the sorcerers of darkness. The spirits said it was the gods speaking through him, and the convened leaders had decided to heed his advice.
Yakura’s story both gladdened and surprised me. Because of what I knew about him and after my meeting with him, I was convinced Herbert William, Jr., was a dangerous lunatic who believed it was his mission to save the world and was willing to commit terrible crimes in order to fulfill his delusional fantasies. Still, I was impressed by the restraint and moderation of his decision and mainly marveled at how he had known to work in cooperation with the shamans and bridge the gap between the worlds of myth and logic. Marina was also happy to hear the news.
“It would be nice if we could return to the village now,” she said, and I translated her words to Yakura, who smiled her kindly smile at us, but said nothing.
After about an hour, a masked warrior peeked into the hut and said the master was calling me.
“By himself,” he said to the women, who wanted to come out with me to the camp. Marina became extremely nervous when she found out I had been invited to a meeting with Herbert, but Yakura tried to comfort her and gave me a reassuring smile when I exited the hut.
The masked warrior accompanied me to the round house. Blank-faced guards awaited us at the entrance and walked us inside. Finally, I was permitted to enter the inner room. He was sitting there, at his desk, examining some photographs with a magnifying glass.
He looked up at me, motioned for me sit beside him, and showed me the photographs without saying a single word. In one series of photographs, I saw Clara surrounded by armed men, most of them white, or of mixed blood, and a few converted men. She wasn’t bound, and the guards weren’t threatening her, but sadness and fear were clearly visible in her face. In another series of photographs, I saw Christina. She was surrounded by many armed islanders, a few white people, and converted forest people as well.
“These are photos of the two foreign camps that have settled next to the mountain,” said Herbert. “I know these two women, although I haven’t seen the white one for quite some time. I know you are familiar with them both as well. The fact that they have been kidnapped and are being held not far from here forces us to change our plans. The women might get hurt during the conflict between the two groups, and we must do something before it’s too late,” he said decisively.
I was dumbstruck. The man I had thought to be cruel and ruthless, pleasantly surprised me for the second time over the course of two days. After a long silence, I asked, “What would you like me to do?”
“I don’t know. I cannot think of a positive option. A rescue attempt might prove to be dangerous, cause many casualties, and disrupt our future plans.”
I suggested that he send gliding warriors to the foreign camps, the sort who know how to move soundlessly and without being seen, armed with blowguns and tranquilizing darts. At the right moment, they would secretly steal their way into the foreign camps, put the guards of the women to sleep, and the women themselves, if need be, and rescue them without casualties and without a fight.
Herbert listened to me attentively and after a long silence opened his mouth to speak. “Your suggestion is good,” he said. “But you should know that if we bring the women here, they will not be able to leave the forest before the great plan unfolds. Are you aware of the difficulties that may arise?”
I thought about the coming meeting between Marina and Christina and nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I knew what he was talking about. Herbert motioned that I should leave, and the masked warrior walked me to my hut. Marina’s and Yakura’s questioning eyes welcomed me. I told them about the conversation I had with Herbert, but I had to use two different languages.
First, I reported it to Yakura in Yarkiti. I described Christina as Herbert’s wife, and Clara as a woman belonging to a tribe of white people that wanted to help the forest and its inhabitants. Yakura nodded as if everything was clear to her. Then I addressed Marina, and told her of the goings-on, and she placed a hand on her mouth, as was her habit, like someone stifling a scream. When I stopped speaking, the three of us fell into deep thought. We climbed into our hammocks and fell asleep.
At night, the Noneshi came to visit me again. This time, he wore a crown of feathers and held a short spear. He motioned for me to follow him, and we both exited the hut. Outside, I saw the gliding warriors. They walked about without disturbing anything, not even a blade of grass or a stray leaf. The Noneshi showed me a ladder leaning against a tree trunk, and I began to climb it. I climbed for a long while. I reached the tops of the trees and emerged into the night skies. Beneath me was the teeming forest, and above me was the large, spacious lake of silence. The moon cast its light on my right, vast and silent. I crossed the barrier of darkness and continued to climb. A dim light came from above.
I looked down at the hovering ladder and saw the Noneshi following me. His eyes regarded me, seeking to know what I was doing in a world I did not belong to. Suddenly, there came a great commotion in the heavens. Mysterious figures were holding weights in their hands, crying out that the balance had been disturbed. I woke up in the hammock drenched in sweat, happy it had only been a dream, and drifted back to sleep.
The first light was still hidden behind the foliage of the trees when I woke up, yet I still felt that a single sunbeam was wandering in the hut. I opened my eyes and saw a circle of light hovering beyond the branches comprising the wall. I knew it was a flashlight. With sleep and dreams still lingering in my eyes, I went out to the camp. I couldn’t see anything. I returned to the hut, took my flashlight out of my backpack, and when I turned it on, I was surprised to discover Marina’s hammock was empty. I put on my boots to protect myself from snakes and hurried outside.
A familiar smell hung in the air, announcing a tropical storm that would soon shake the forest. The animals, wiser than Marina and me, were running everywhere in search of shelter. Not far from the hut, I saw the light beam emerging from between the bushes. I walked toward the light and saw them, Marina and Herbert.
“We went out to see the gliders,” Marina said quickly. “You should have seen them. They looked as if they were hovering a few inches above the ground, without touching it. You can’t hear even the slightest sound when they walk.”
I looked at her skeptically, and as if he could read my mind, Herbert turned to me and said, “I wanted to talk to her. I owed her a lot of explanations, and I wanted to tell her everything before Christina gets here. That is why I asked her to accompany me.”
Marina clung to me, kissed my cheek, and said, “Don’t worry. I’m going back to the hut.”
Herbert and I were alone. We turned off our flashlights and sat on a pair of stones, illuminated by the light of the last stars before dawn. I asked myself whether a few of the blank-faced warriors loyal to Herbert were near, guarding their master.
“I think you owe me some explanations as well,” I said and waited for him to speak.
Following a brief silence, his voice came from the darkness. “Here, in this place, thousands of years ago, there was a la
rge settlement. It served as the center of a network of urban and agricultural settlements, in complete contradiction to all common theories held by rainforest-culture researchers. We are talking about a very ancient period, about the time of the great civilizations of Egypt and Asia, or even before them.
“They had an astounding wealth of knowledge, some of which exceeds that of contemporary Western civilization, especially when it comes to the use of psychoactive plants and balancing the relationship between body and soul. Despite their great knowledge, they fell into a series of deadly wars, perhaps because of misuse of the plants whose properties they had learned. The remaining descendants of that civilization have zealously guarded the ancient writings left to them by their ancestors, concealing them in secret caves that may have been dug for that purpose, but the living knowledge was lost over the centuries.
“Waves of immigrants have flooded this territory, from Australia, Asia, Europe. The secrets have remained hidden in the ancient, indecipherable writings, and in stories that have passed from generation to generation. It is said that the old ones discovered the vihu, the yage, the ritual tobacco, and all the rest of the herbal drugs known to the forest people. Many of the ancient secrets were shared with my father, then with me.
“The ancient ones knew many things. How to use the forest plants to transcend the boundaries of self, how to gain the power of controlling others, and even how to fly. They also knew how to sustain a large city in the forest without harming the environment. Their ancient wisdom is the key to humanity’s future. My father tried to explain this to a few of his learned friends, but they decided he had lost his mind and wanted to have him committed to a mental institution. I think he ended up finding his death in the forest, I do not know how, but I have a few guesses.
“Now gold and diamond seekers are systematically destroying the forest, and I fear that in their madness they will also destroy the great secrets hidden by the forest for so many years. We should all be in the same camp. I tried to explain this to the members of the organization I belong to, but none of them would listen. We have to chase away the gold and diamond seekers, even if we need to pay a heavy price for that.”
He stopped speaking and I tried to digest his words. Did they have even a shred of truth in them? It seemed that he had woven together a few of his father’s discoveries with the myths of the forest people and created a grand story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. A story about an ancient and sublime civilization destroyed by a terrible war, a war he wanted to recreate in our times, for some reason of his own.
If there was any truth to his words, and the forest indeed contained such great secrets, it might be better for them to remain unknown. Our world would not benefit from the ancient knowledge if it contained the seeds of such terrible destruction. Or was this entire story inspired by the plants he spoke of? And what of his father? Once again, it had been hinted he had found his death there in the jungle, that forest people had sacrificed him to the gods. Had he been killed because he had exposed the great secrets of the forest and had to go with the knowledge he possessed to the world of the spirits and the gods?
Herbert took his leave and walked toward the camp. Rustling sounds from the bushes indicated his bodyguards were returning to the round house with their master. Sometime later, I heard another noise in the bushes. It sounded like an animal on all fours, and I quickly turned on my flashlight, fearing it might be a predator. But soon, my light fell on a beautiful black German shepherd, his ears alert, his tail wagging, and the movements of his head friendly.
Many dogs have been part of my life, and the black dog that approached me brought back many memories. He drew closer as if pulled by an invisible string held in my hand. Soon, he crouched next to me and began to lick my feet. I decided to call him Amir, after my last dog, the one that had been poisoned. When I spoke the name, the dog jumped on me with glee, like a lost pet, as if that had always been his name.
We returned to the hut together. At the base of the trunk serving as its stairway, sat Marina, her chin in her hands and her eyes roaming the unknown expanses beyond the clearing. When I came close, she looked up at me, sadness reflected in her beautiful eyes. I sat beside her, stroking the dog that had adopted me.
She rested her head on my shoulder and asked, “Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know what he told you, but I think he honestly believes what he told me, which makes me afraid. I’ve always feared people who think they know everything.”
Amir suddenly licked Marina’s foot, and she raised her head to look at him. “Where did this dog come from?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He came to me from the darkness and immediately turned into a friend.”
Once again, Marina placed her head on my shoulder. Suddenly, we heard Yakura’s voice above us. “Get inside the hut, quickly, the rain about to start.”
Lightning blazed in the sky even before she finished her words, and immediately after that, the upper streams opened wide and a downpour began. We hurried up and Amir followed us, cocking his head to ask permission to come into the hut. The four of us snuggled together in the safety of our shelter, waiting for dawn.
“Don’t worry,” said Yakura, “there is no danger of flooding in this place,” and I immediately recalled the mysterious forest clearings I had stumbled across, many days before, when I had discovered Omauha’s mountain. I stroked Amir, who lay next to my hammock, then I climbed in and sank into sleep.
28
The Laboratory of the Gods
A veil of rain darkened the morning sky. Amir, likely hungry, ran out of the hut and disappeared. A few hours later, the rain stopped. Yakura’s hammock was empty, so Marina and I went outside, happy to escape the confines of the hut. The camp looked almost dry, as if the rain that had fallen was nothing but a light drizzle. While we regarded the camp with amazement, Yakura returned with the morning fruit.
“The rain will help the gliding warriors,” she said. “The foreigners won’t dare go outside, and our people will be able to get close to their fabric shelters and release the women.”
When I told her they might leave their tents since the rain had stopped, she explained that where the camps were, close to the mountain, the rain was still pounding the bare earth.
On a stroll around the camp, we met Herbert with Amir next to him.
“The cave system is wonderful,” Herbert explained to us in his monotonous voice. “The water immediately drains into them, then flows through channels to the springs and streams.”
“Were the ancient ones familiar with the caves and channels?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Herbert. “They knew and used them, it could be they even built them. Some of the caves are also protected from floods by drainage channels. In the past, they must have used the caves as temples and archives, maybe even as places of residence, and the people of the forest use them to this very day to protect treasures and sacred objects. You can get to the mountains and the enemy camps through the channels, but I have instructed the gliding warriors to take the long route above ground, so as not to endanger the sacred spaces.”
I stroked Amir’s head, but he treated me like a stranger, unworthy of his trust. Dogs, just like people, have many facets to their personality. I thought, since our first meeting, which had shocked and terrified me, Herbert had surprised me again and again with his moderation, his willingness to share his secrets with me, and his reasonable decisions.
Herbert took off with a few of his bodyguards and his dog. The women went to bathe in one of the pools, and I explored the camp. The camp inhabitants were cleaning up after the rain, neatening the paths and tidying up the huts and the round house. I recognized the members of many tribes, including the Yarkiti, Mashko, and Yarmuki.
When I approached the stone house, I felt something drawing me to it. I had a feeling it contained an important secret that I must uncover. When I stepped on
the bridge leading to the door, no one came to stop me. But when I gripped the door handle, a few of the blank-faced warriors burst out, brandishing threatening spears. I was terrified, but I didn’t let go. Something struck my head, then I felt myself being dragged into the stone house.
When I managed to rise, I placed a hand on my aching head, and my fingers came away sticky with blood. Beside me were two white men whose feet were tied to a pole with a rope made of vines. At the end of the small room, I saw a converted forest man. From the outside, the stone house looked completely sealed on all sides, without any windows, but once inside, I discovered there was a large opening in the roof, serving as a source of light and air. I went over to the two white men, and discovered that I knew them: It was the port officer and one of the town policemen. The meeting surprised them just as it had surprised me.
“Are you following us?” asked the port officer sarcastically.
Some time passed before I was able to organize my thoughts and ask them how they’d gotten there and why they had left Don Pedro. The policeman told of a terrible anarchy that had broken out after the army’s arrival. The town had become a war zone, with gangs constantly fighting each other. Instead of instilling order, the soldiers were making plans to invade the jungle and inflating small motorboats they had brought.
“When I caught the man who had murdered the chief of police, I was instructed to release him,” the port officer interrupted the policeman.
After some discussion, the two had decided to join one of the expeditions that planned to set out into the forest.
“I welcomed the opportunity to leave,” the policeman said. “Any place seemed better than the hell that reigned in the town. Your post office friend ran away right after you did, and the mulatto woman and child waited for Marina in your house, but only Beatrice arrived.
