Return to the Jungle

by Bear Grylls

  ‘Diya and I can’t sleep, so we’re going birdwatching to see the sunrise. There’s a hide that Diya’s dad knows about that’s meant to be amazing. You want to come and join us for a sleep there?’ He paused. ‘With all the animals all around.’

  That bit will put her off for sure, he thought, smiling to himself.

  Anula sat up in bed. ‘You want me to come and sleep over with you and your little friend, in a hut, in the jungle?’

  For a dreadful moment Mak thought she was going to agree. Then he saw the horrified expression creeping across her face.

  ‘I couldn’t think of anything worse,’ she sneered. ‘You both do whatever you want. Just don’t get me into trouble and make sure you’re back by breakfast.’

  Mak pretended to be disappointed. ‘Oh, OK, then. And we will, I promise.’ He paused. ‘We’ll take the sat phone just in case, so you can always check in with me if you want to talk.’

  ‘Like I want to do that.’ And she lay back down.

  Mak quietly left his sister’s hut, feeling confident she’d fallen for the story. He darted to his own room and quickly packed, shoving the survival gear he’d brought from England into his satchel, and remembering his pocketknife.

  He also scribbled a quick note, which he left on his bed, saying that he and Diya had gone birdwatching and would be back at the end of the day. By leaving the note and talking to Anula about their ‘birdwatching’ plan, he figured they should be covered, at least for the rest of the night and the following day.

  Mak had left Diya at the tourist waterfall just on the edge of town, stroking Hathi’s nose and trying to keep the elephant calm.

  She kept looking at her watch, willing Mak to hurry up. They needed to get moving.

  Mak left his bedroom and then sneaked into the drone command building, which was now dark since Anil had powered down the monitors and left for bed.

  Following Diya’s instructions, he found a satellite phone, an old cooking pan that had been used to capture drips during a storm, a small printed map of the area, two spare torches, several energy bars stashed in a box under the desk, and a water-purification flask, which he filled to the brim. Grabbing a small backpack in which to carry the extra equipment, Mak crept out of the building.

  On his way out of the camp, he retrieved a machete that had been thrust into a firewood pile. He carefully slid it into its sheath and fastened it to his belt.

  Then he dashed off to meet Diya and Hathi where he’d left them.

  So far, all was going to plan.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mak’s joyful whoops echoed from the rock face as he punched the air. Any fear of them being overheard was drowned out by a waterfall.

  ‘We’re on our way!’ cried Mak.

  Mak took in the waterfall and the forest around them. It was a tiny cascade compared to those he’d seen before, but the smell of running water and the wet forest cast aside any fatigue he’d been feeling. Hathi was already knee-deep in the water, enjoying the fresh taste and squirting it over himself with delight.

  Mak glanced at the luminous dials on his wristwatch. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet.

  ‘We need to push on – as far as we can, as fast as we can – to reach the herd,’ he said.

  He handed Diya the backpack of supplies and took a paper map and a marker pen from his satchel. He unfolded the map and circled the logging town, then traced his finger north-west across the jungle to where he’d memorized the herd’s location.

  ‘The herd is moving in this direction. Hopefully we can head straight through the jungle and intercept them here.’ He tapped the distinctive V-shaped valley that marked the end of Spiny Ridge. He recalled that the farming village Anil had shown them wasn’t very far away, but it wasn’t marked on the map. Neither were the logging tracks. Instead, there was just a spaghetti knot of streams and waterways that fed into a sinuous single river leading off the map.

  He directed his torch beam to a narrow trail that led into the jungle at the foot of the waterfall. Even in the waning moonlight, they could see that it went gently upwards as it entered the forest.

  ‘That’s the way we need to be going if we’re going to reach the herd.’

  Diya smiled. ‘Let’s do this, jungle boy!’

  She then took a moment to split their equipment more evenly between her backpack and his satchel, while Mak laid a hand on the side of the elephant’s head and scratched gently.

  ‘Well, Hathi, we’re going to get you back to your mum, but you’re going to have to help us – and trust us.’

  Hathi responded by coiling his trunk round Mak’s arm and giving him a gentle fan with his broad ears. Mak hoped that was the elephant equivalent of ‘OK’.

  He cocked his head, seeing that Diya was looking really concerned.

  ‘You really think they’ll come all the way out here to search for Hathi?’ Diya said.

  Mak swept his torch beam across the dirt floor. Hathi’s heavy footprints could be seen clearly in the earth.

  ‘Elephants are not quite as difficult to miss as your dad made out.’

  He could see the fear written on Diya’s face. Mak moved closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s going to be fine. We can do this. Together.’ He paused. ‘But we need to keep moving as far as we can. After all, somebody is relying on us.’

  They both looked at Hathi, who was still frolicking in the water, revelling in his newfound freedom. The sight of the animal cast some of the doubt from Diya’s mind. She nodded firmly.

  ‘Let’s go, then.’ She marched towards the trail.

  ‘Are you coming or what?’ Mak said, whistling to Hathi and turning to follow Diya.

  The elephant trotted from the pool and caught up with Mak. It was as if Hathi sensed what their plan was and was eager to find his way home.

  For the next few hours they tramped along the trail, pushing undergrowth aside. The moonlight occasionally helped illuminate the path ahead, and Mak instructed Diya to turn their torches off to save the battery life. In his haste to leave, he hadn’t thought to bring spares.

  One thing Mak was grateful for bringing was the machete. For the first hour the trail was manageable, but as the foliage around them grew, blocking the faint moonlight and allowing the hoots and chitters of jungle life to rise in volume, the path became more difficult.

  Mak swung the machete to hack at the branches and vines criss-crossing their path, but more often than not the blade would rebound on the tougher plants.

  He felt Diya grip his shoulder to stop him. ‘Stop waving your arms like a windmill!’ She prised the machete from his grip. ‘If you keep doing it that way, you’ll chop off one of your limbs! You need to make short but firm strokes, like this.’

  Mak watched as Diya kept her free arm close to her body, wielding the blade in strong, controlled movements, slashing through the vines and branches with ease. He and Hathi followed on behind as she cut her way effortlessly through the undergrowth.

  ‘I get it now,’ Mak said. ‘I can do this.’ He paused. ‘Thanks for the advice though.’

  ‘No worries. We’re a team, as you said.’

  Mak continued cutting his way through out front, working hard. The pair soon lost track of time, but they were making quick progress now along the trail into the thick jungle.

  Eventually Mak thrust the point of the machete into the side of a big tree and leaned on it to catch his breath.

  ‘My arm is going to fall off!’ He sighed.

  ‘My time to take over, then,’ Diya replied, with no hesitation.

  ‘Roger that!’

  Mak smiled. This girl is tough, he thought.

  And with that, the pair pressed on.

  An hour later though, both Mak and Diya were dead beat. The adrenaline, heat and physically demanding work of jungle travel was taking its toll on both of them.

  Mak called a halt and shone his torch around a small natural clearing they’d come to. The ground was thick with bushes and tangles of
branches that rose around the mighty curving roots of a huge tree – the perfect place to sleep.

  ‘I think we’ve found our camp,’ he said.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Anula woke after far too little sleep. Her blankets had been pulled so tight to combat intrusive insects that she could barely move. Her mother was at her door, glancing around the room with concern.

  ‘Have you seen Makur?’ she asked, her voice full of worry.

  ‘Oh, yeah . . .’ Anula murmured groggily. She just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. ‘He told me he’s gone birdwatching . . . Diya has a hut or something. Her dad knows.’

  ‘Anil knows?’

  Anula could barely find the energy to speak. ‘Sure. She goes there all the time apparently. Sleeps over. Counts birds.’

  ‘Well, I do remember Anil mentioning something about that. They must have left early.’

  ‘Yeah . . . I’ve barely slept, Mum.’

  Her mother relaxed, assured that Anula had seen them earlier. ‘Thank goodness for that. After last time, your father and I have been so concerned . . . That’s exactly why we wanted you here.’

  ‘I’m on top of it,’ said Anula sleepily as she rolled over and yawned. ‘And I told him to take the satellite phone. So relax. I’ll let you know if there are any problems . . .’

  Then she was asleep. Her mother left quietly, cross with Mak for not asking first, but happy that there was nothing to worry about.

  Mak woke with his nose itching. He squinted through a ray of light peeking between the boughs above and focused on a butterfly perched on his nose. It was huge and he could clearly see its proboscis drinking the sweat trickling down his face.

  When he gave a gentle sniff, the butterfly fluttered away. He sat up to see Diya was asleep in a tight ball, with a waterproof sheet that she’d had in her pack wrapped tightly round her. Mak stretched and joined Hathi, who was snuffling around the foliage, his nimble trunk picking at fine green shoots and stems of bamboo just as fast as he could.

  ‘You’re hungry, huh?’ Mak said, his own stomach rumbling on cue. He’d packed several energy bars in his satchel and some vacuum-packed rice, but he wanted to save those in case of any emergency, so he too picked some of the succulent bamboo growing around him and chewed on it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Diya asked as she woke up to see Mak racing against the elephant to eat the bamboo shoots.

  ‘Morning! Want some bamboo?’ He tossed a stem to Diya, who ate it before taking an energy bar from her own pack.

  ‘Much more filling!’ she said, taking a bite. She looked around, completely disorientated. ‘Which way do we go?’

  Mak filled his mouth with more bamboo, then opened his pack and rooted through it. There was something missing. ‘Do you have the map?’

  ‘The map? No. You were carrying it,’ Diya said with alarm.

  Mak searched the area around his pack, just in case it had fallen out. ‘It’s not here.’ He saw the look of panic on Diya’s face.

  ‘It must be here.’

  The pair frantically searched through all their gear and pockets. But nothing.

  They slumped down silently and then stared at each other.

  This was bad.

  ‘Maybe we don’t actually need it,’ Mak commented, trying to put a positive spin on it.

  ‘We don’t need it?’ Diya repeated in surprise. ‘I don’t want to get lost out here!’

  ‘No chance,’ Mak said confidently. He helped her stand and checked his watch before locating the position of the sun through the trees. ‘Look, it’s not quite seven o’clock yet, and the sun is over there.’

  ‘And how does that help us?’

  Mak took his watch off and slowly turned it in his hand so that the hour hand was pointing at the sun. Then he gestured in the direction halfway between twelve o’clock and the hour hand.

  ‘That is south. Which means north-west is –’ he circled round and pointed – ‘that way. The herd has been moving steadily from that direction, so we should be able to intercept them.’

  He picked up his pack and whistled to Hathi. The elephant immediately responded and trotted in pursuit. Diya shook her head and hid her smile. She was impressed. Although she didn’t want Mak to see that.

  Buldeo’s screams of rage echoed through the compound. He kicked at the chain on the floor, but that did nothing more than painfully stub his toe.

  ‘You didn’t tighten the chain enough!’ he bellowed, waving a finger at Girish. ‘It’s your fault!’

  Girish rubbed his temple. He’d woken up with a headache and the last thing he needed was his boss shouting at him. He knelt down to inspect the chain.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with this chain,’ he said, running it through his fingers. ‘Somebody took it off the animal.’

  Lalu struggled to lift up one of the broken gates that had fallen into the road. He grunted with the effort of propping it up against the side of the building.

  ‘And then it must have burst through this,’ Lalu said.

  Buldeo wasn’t listening. Something had caught his eye, and he crouched in the dirt. The elephant’s footprints circled round and led straight towards the gate, confirming Lalu’s theory.

  Lalu crouched in the road and traced his fingers around several dirt marks.

  ‘He went this way.’ He indicated down the street.

  Buldeo and Girish exchanged an uncertain look.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Buldeo asked. ‘That looks like some mud splatters from a truck.’

  Lalu shook his head. ‘I’m the tracker. I know what an elephant’s print looks like. And he went this way.’

  Lalu set off down the road, Buldeo and Girish following quickly behind. Buldeo would march all day if necessary to get his prize back.

  His future and the future of the two goons he employed were at stake.

  He wouldn’t let anything, or anybody, get in his way . . .

  CHAPTER TEN

  The morning was glorious, and Mak couldn’t remember seeing the jungle more alive, even when he’d been living in it for weeks. Flowers were in bloom, insects flitting from one to the other. Butterflies danced, fat bees bobbed lazily through the air, and birds sang from every tree.

  The forest provided a much easier walk now, with many clearings and wide tracks for them to venture through. There was no need to break out the machete again as the trees thinned to make way for the waist-high grass and red and yellow flowers that lay before them.

  Mak had learned that where loggers had previously cleared the jungle, the undergrowth grew back thick and ugly, as the sunlight could now reach down to the jungle floor. This was called secondary jungle, and it was horrible to hike through. As Mak and Diya had discovered the day before.

  But now they were in primary jungle, where the trees grew straight and tall, and the ground itself was much clearer and less cluttered than the dense thorny undergrowth of the earlier part of their journey.

  Soon the trio popped out into a larger clearing. As they meandered through the knee-high grass of the meadow, it came alive with swarms of colourful butterflies that scattered to avoid them. Hathi enjoyed swatting his trunk to catch them, but behaved himself and kept close to Diya.

  Pausing to pick some head-sized spiky jack fruit from the tree, which Diya expertly carved into eatable portions with the machete, Mak’s mind began to wander.

  Every step he made took him back to the time he’d been lost in the jungle. He remembered that it had been such a frightening, lonely experience. If it hadn’t been for the wolves who’d adopted him, then he had no doubt he would have died out there. Even so, his memories of the experience were amazing, and he couldn’t help comparing it to living in the grey concrete slabs of London where his family lived.

  He was vaguely aware that Diya was talking to him, but his mind was fantasizing about building a cabin and living in the wild. Even the bizarreness of guiding a young elephant calf home through the dense jungle felt normal, exciting . . .


  ‘Little Wolf?’ Diya’s voice was raised. She’d obviously been calling him a few times. ‘Oh, you’re back with us. That’s nice. Hello.’ She gestured ahead of them.

  A wide river cut along their path. The water was brown and slow moving. A few floating tree branches further out hinted that it was deep. They stood on an elevated bank that sloped down a couple of metres to the sandy shore below. A shore that was being patrolled by a pair of large grey herons, their javelin beaks poised above the water, waiting for their prey to swim past.

  Mak caught the uncertain look on Diya’s face. ‘Relax. This was on the map. This is useful, in fact. It curves westward that way.’ He indicated upstream. ‘If we follow the shore, then we can stay out of the denser jungle and increase our speed.’

  Diya looked suspiciously at him. ‘Are you sure you know where we’re going?’

  Mak patted Hathi’s flank. The little elephant had stopped with them and made no attempt to head to the water’s edge. ‘Trust me, I want to see Hathi reunited with his mum just as must as you do.’

  Diya still wasn’t convinced. ‘It’s just that . . .’ She looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

  ‘What?’

  She sighed and gestured around. ‘I have seen the look on your face now we’re here. It is like you are lost in your own world. I worry that you want to stay here forever.’

  ‘Don’t you? I mean . . . look around!’ Mak hopped down the bank to the shore, causing the herons to take flight. One swooped across the river, landing on a floating log to resume fishing. ‘It’s special out here. So peaceful. So full of life.’ He caught the look on her face. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to get us lost. We’ll sort Hathi out, then get back to the camp. But after that . . . well . . . what if I stayed?’

  ‘In India?’

  Mak had meant the jungle. He knew his parents wouldn’t let him, but his mind jumped to the idea of running away.

  He shrugged. ‘Sure. India,’ he said. ‘I could stay with you and your dad . . .’