by Bear Grylls
‘Little Wolf . . .’
‘Help with conservation work.’ Even as he said it, it sounded a wonderful idea.
‘Mak!’
Mak’s excitement was growing and he began pacing. ‘I could even work for my dad’s company over here!’
‘Don’t move!’ Diya hissed.
Mak stopped in his tracks in time to hear the undergrowth close by shudder as something large moved through it. His hand went for the machete on his belt.
It wasn’t there.
He looked up to see Diya had it in her hand. Behind her, Hathi stood motionless, his ears fanning out wide in an unmistakable threatening gesture.
Mak slowly turned to the undergrowth again as branches snapped. Something was coming his way . . .
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Just from the sound of the twigs snapping, Mak could tell something large was in the undergrowth – and he was standing on the open sandy shore, completely defenceless. He cursed himself for being so complacent. The smells and sights around him had brought nothing but good memories, but now he recalled the rabid monkeys, the lethal leopards and the other dangers that also call the jungle home.
And one of them was in the undergrowth right in front of him, no doubt looking for its next meal.
Mak spotted a sturdy-looking tree branch lying in the sand just a metre away. It had broken at an angle, creating a natural sharp spear tip. The only problem was that he’d have to run towards the unseen monster to reach it.
Without thinking, Mak suddenly charged forward, yelling at the top of his lungs. He snatched the stick up and hefted it over his shoulder, ready to stab anything hungry enough to have a go at him.
There was an explosion of movement in the foliage. Whatever was there moved with a sudden spurt of speed, kicking up loose plants and wet sand as it moved. But it wasn’t heading for Mak – it was running away.
They all heard a gentle splash as whatever had been stalking him vanished into a small lagoon that lay just behind the undergrowth, separated from the river by a few metres.
Mak’s heart was pounding and his ears throbbed from the blood pumping in them. He felt lightheaded and giddy as adrenaline coursed through him. Then he realized Diya was clapping.
‘That was very brave!’ Diya said as she ran down the embankment to his side. Hathi followed more cautiously. ‘And one heck of a battle cry!’
It took Mak a few more seconds to calm down and realize what he’d instinctively done. Fight or flight, mankind’s oldest instinct. In the past, Mak had always chosen flight, to run from whatever dangers threatened him. But something had changed and he’d found a reservoir of courage he hadn’t known he possessed.
Maybe fear had caused him to act so rashly? Or perhaps he’d wanted to protect Diya and Hathi? Either way, it had worked.
‘You scared it off with your screaming!’ Diya laughed.
The burst of adrenaline, released by his body to sharpen Mak’s reactions and senses, was wearing off, and he felt a little sick.
‘That was the plan,’ he said weakly, lowering his new spear so she couldn’t see that his hand was now trembling. ‘I wonder what it was?’
He drew closer to the undergrowth, the spear aimed forward. He poked around, but nothing stirred. Standing on tiptoes, he could see across the lagoon beyond. There was no sign of movement there.
‘Could have been a wild boar?’ Mak suggested. ‘Or a jungle cat?’ There were plenty of other feline predators alongside the more famous leopards, and they were powerful swimmers, a technique that helped them catch prey unaware.
Diya shook her head. ‘It was bigger than that. And if it was a big cat, it would have attacked.’ She began inspecting the sand at the edge of the river, her voice dropping with concern. ‘The loggers used to tell my father stories about things they saw out here.’
‘What kind of things?’
Diya hesitated, unsure whether she should continue.
Mak pressed her. ‘You can’t say that and then keep me in suspense.’
‘Loggers are often the very first people to enter remote habitats. They claim to have seen tigers where there are supposed to be none.’
The mention of a tiger sent both a thrill and chill through Mak. He’d only seen a tiger in a zoo back home, and the poor thing had looked so miserable in its cage. He longed to see a wild one – but perhaps not this up close and personal.
Diya didn’t see his worried look and continued in a low voice as she searched the shoreline. ‘One mining expedition lost a man. Said he’d been eaten by an enormous python.’
Mak had seen pythons before, but none had looked big enough to eat a person – especially not the men who often joined mining teams. For one of those miners to have been eaten, the monster would have to be the length of a lorry . . .
‘And then there are also the crocodiles.’ The tone of her voice made Mak look up. Diya was pointing to a set of huge crocodilian footprints. She placed her hand on one and splayed her fingers as wide as she could. The footprint was still larger. These tracks, along with the distinctive furrow created by its heavy tail, led towards the river, indicating that it wasn’t what had been in the bush.
‘Big ones have been known to attack people. Even baby elephants,’ Diya said as she watched Hathi anxiously. The elephant was still spooked by whatever had been in the bushes and hadn’t approached the water.
‘Well, whatever it was, it has gone for now,’ said Mak firmly. ‘Let’s not hang around here any longer than we need to. He pointed his spear upstream. ‘Let’s go.’
He led the way along the shore, alert for any threats the jungle might throw at them. His dream of escaping into the jungle felt soured after that shock, and now all he wanted to do was get Hathi back home . . .
Then he could think about returning himself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Following the river was easier said than done. The sandy banks didn’t last for long. When they met a sharp bend, the ground rose where the river had eroded it, becoming more treacherous.
They saw several huge water lizards basking in the trees above the river, their thick black forked tongues constantly tasting the air. Some were much bigger than Mak, and he wondered if that’s what had stalked them earlier. The reptiles seldom attacked people, but Diya’s stories had spooked him . . .
Giving the lizards a wide berth, they pressed on. Reaching the river bend, the bank became fragile and crumbled under Hathi’s weight – sending large chunks of earth into the water and startling the elephant so much that he retreated to safer ground. There he refused to move for an hour while Mak tried to coax him onwards.
The crumbly terrain had forced them away from the water into the trees. Without a well-trodden track to follow, their progress slowed. After several more hours, the trees had become noticeably denser, their lofty canopies blotting out the sun and turning the ground into a murky twilight that was alive with insects. With each step, it seemed as if the jungle was trying to pull them away from the water – which was the only point of reference Mak had to navigate them towards the elephant herd.
Eventually Diya threw her arms to the sky in despair. ‘I’m exhausted!’ Although used to the jungle, she’d never been in anything as dense. ‘I need to stop.’
It was the fourth time she’d said it, and each time Mak had urged her a little further on. This time he thought it best to agree. Diya sat on a fallen log, took her pack off and tossed it to the ground.
Hathi seemed happy enough, nosing around some ferns hardy enough to grow on the darker forest floor. Mak sat on a stump at the edge of the clearing and took a swig from his water bottle. He only had a mouthful before it ran dry, and he suddenly regretted not finding a clear place to fill it near the river.
Diya spoke up. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Mak, but are you certain you know where we are?’
Mak took the satellite phone from her pack and sat back on his stump as he examined it.
‘We don’t need to know exactly where we a
re.’ Mak saw the alarm on Diya’s face. ‘I mean, I know where we need to get to, and I know we’re going the right sort of way by following the river.’ He could tell Diya wasn’t entirely pleased with that explanation.
She took a sweet trail bar from her pack and bit into it thoughtfully as she regarded Hathi.
‘It’s just that each step feels like we are getting more and more committed to the route,’ she said. ‘And I really don’t want us to make a mistake and anything to happen to either us or Hathi . . .’ Her voice tailed off.
‘Nor do I, Diya, but if you don’t take any risks in the jungle, you die. My time when I was lost taught me that.’
Diya smiled at him.
‘And poor Hathi.’ She paused, swatting a wasp away from her. ‘I mean, every encounter he’s had with people has been horrible. Captured by loggers. Hurt by Buldeo and those horrible men. Yet see him now – he trusts us.’ Hathi’s trunk delicately picked the fronds from a plant, leaving the stem intact. ‘He knows we’re trying to help him.’ She paused again. ‘I guess if he trusts you, so do I. Elephants are incredibly intelligent. My father thinks they’re far smarter than we are.’
Before Mak could react, the log under Diya shifted with the sound of breaking damp wood, and Diya jerked downwards a few centimetres, her arms flailing to catch her balance.
She broke into nervous laughter. ‘I think this log is rotten!’
Mak jumped to his feet and held up his hand. ‘Stay where you are.’
‘I don’t—’
‘Don’t move,’ said Mak urgently. ‘The log is about to break open.’
‘So?’
‘So . . . there’s a massive wasps’ nest inside it . . .’
For Diya, it was as if the volume around her suddenly raised on cue. She thought she’d been swatting the occasional annoying wasp attracted to the sweetness of her trail bar, but now she saw the log around her was humming with small bodies as they poured from cracks along the trunk. One part of the wood had caved in so badly that she could see a damaged papery nest within, and countless wasps dashing to repair the breach.
Living in the jungle for most of her life meant Diya was not the sort of person to feel squeamish around insects, but she also knew that a swarm of angry wasps was not just bad . . .
It was deadly.
Then with a loud dull crack, the log gave way completely from under her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A black cloud of smoke erupted from the broken log and encompassed Diya. Mak saw her tumble backwards before losing sight of her.
‘Diya!’
He rushed forward, unsure what to do. Then Diya burst from the swarm, screaming at the top of her lungs.
She raced towards Mak, and the swarm behind her coiled in pursuit, thousands of tiny beating wings creating a drone so loud that Mak could feel it vibrating in his ribcage.
‘Follow me, Diya!’ Mak screamed. And with that he started to run.
He’d instinctively chosen a direction in which to sprint and only hoped it was towards the water, the one place he could think of that might save them from the angry wasps. Ahead, their path was barred by thick vines and creepers, which threatened to ensnare them. Even the machete wouldn’t open the trail fast enough to save them.
But Hathi could.
The swarm triggered a primeval response of terror in the calf. No matter how big an elephant was, a horde of stingers could still be lethal. Hathi hadn’t been too close to Mak or Diya when the log broke, but now he was powering ahead of them at incredible speed. With a slight tilt of his head, Hathi struck the natural barrier.
The plants didn’t stand a chance in the way of a stampeding elephant. They tore like paper as Hathi bulldozed through them. Mak and Diya followed the elephant calf as close as they dared, fearful of being trampled, but despite their caution they were still running flat out to keep up.
Behind, the swarm snaked effortlessly through the obstacles and was catching up.
They had no choice but to keep running. Mak remembered a nature documentary that said swatting a wasp made it excrete chemicals that encouraged the rest of the swarm to attack. If that happened, it would be carnage.
Diya stumbled on a crooked root and was propelled forward, half falling, half running. Mak had already adjusted his stride, ready to backtrack to help her up, even though it might end up getting them both murderously stung.
He wasn’t really looking where they were going – until a mighty splash from ahead drenched him with water. He skidded in the mud, trying to slow down, only to see that Hathi had led them straight into the river – and then he fell in head first himself.
The cool water enveloped Mak, and he accidentally swallowed a mouthful of brown muck before surfacing. His feet touched the mud beneath and he was able to steady himself in time to see Diya complete her jungle dash with a desperate leap into the water. Hathi stood up to his belly and used his trunk to spray a curtain of water at the wasp cloud.
A few brave insects tried to get close, but soon retreated with the majority of the swarm. They circled the bank, then disappeared back into the gloom of the forest, their ominous droning fading into silence.
Mak took a deep breath, then met Diya’s gaze. It rapidly changed from fear to relief at their lucky escape. Mak waded over to Hathi and patted the elephant on his neck.
‘Well done, Hathi! You saved us!’
Hathi responded by playfully squirting water over him. Mak laughed and slapped water over the elephant, triggering an impromptu water fight.
‘See?’ said Diya, joining in the battle. ‘I told you elephants could smell water!’
It was a few minutes before their elation wore off and Mak realized he no longer had his satchel over his shoulder.
‘No!’ he shouted. ‘It’s gone! My satchel.’ He stared downriver but couldn’t see any sign of it. Somehow it must have got ripped off him as he’d skidded into the river.
They both searched for a good hour, but to no avail. Mak realized that his machete was also missing, along with at least half of their provisions, the torches and the water purifier.
‘It’s a disaster,’ Mak mumbled to himself.
Luckily, though, the one thing they hadn’t lost was the satellite phone, which had been fixed on to a separate strap round Mak’s belt. But it was soaking wet and failed to turn on when he pressed the power button.
‘I guess it’s time to test your survival skills, Mak,’ Diya said with a deep sigh. ‘We’ll be OK. Don’t worry.’
He didn’t reply, and she put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mak made rapid progress up the tree.
His hands easily found nooks in the bark, while his bare toes gripped round every knot and branch. The moment he’d taken off his shoes and scrunched his toes in the soft dirt, he’d felt a tingle of familiarity course through his body.
It was as if it were only yesterday that he’d been barefoot and racing through the jungle.
They’d left the water and moved further up the riverbank until they found the tallest tree on their side of the river.
Mak had encouraged Diya to join him, but with a shake of her head she muttered that she’d rather have her feet firmly on the ground. The old tree’s trunk was enormous and so craggy that scaling it wasn’t too much of a problem.
During his ascent, Mak could see nothing but the mass of thick branches below, or the occasional glimpse of a wall of green from the tree opposite. There was no sense of how high he was, until he finally pulled the thinning upper branches away and was rewarded with a breathtaking vista of the forest.
It was a carpet of green that undulated over gentle hills stretching in every direction. They were covered in a fine cotton-wool veil of moisture-heavy clouds formed by the breathing trees themselves. Clouds that threatened to unleash a torrent of rain.
Mak took in the brown river that curved like a spine through the trees. It made it easy for him to pinpoint their location on the map,
imprinted in his memory. Keeping one hand firmly on the thinning trunk, and his toes gripping the branch, he slowly twisted round as he zeroed in on a distant valley. It was the start of the hill range that eventually tapered into the valley on the map, the place through which the elephant herd would be passing. Even from here he could see some of the hills were more like miniature limestone mountains, cutting above the jungle.
‘I can see the hills!’ he called down to Diya.
She shouted something in return, but her voice was muffled by the dense branches of the trees.
‘What?’ shouted Mak.
Again, her reply was inaudible.
Mak was enjoying the gentle breeze on his face and felt reluctant to drop back down into the humid jungle. He was positioning himself for a rapid descent through the branches when something caught his eye.
A distinctive line of smoke.
Nothing more than a thin vertical smudge against the sky, the top of which was whisked away by the breeze. But it was definitely man-made – a campfire.
And a quick calculation confirmed that it was in the direction from which they had come . . .
‘Somebody is following us,’ said Mak the moment he’d bounced down the tree. He’d descended with such carefree abandon that Diya had thought he’d fallen. He dropped the last metre or so next to her in a shower of leaves.
‘Who?’ she asked, looking around as if half expecting somebody to walk through the trees to greet them.
Mak took the sat phone from his bag and tried it once more. It was still dead. ‘Best case is that it’s our parents, tracking us down.’
Diya shivered at the thought. ‘If that’s the best case, then do I want to hear the worst?’
Mak couldn’t bring himself to say, but a quick glance towards Hathi was all he needed to do to confirm Diya’s suspicions.
‘We need to be sure whether or not we’re being followed by Buldeo. If we are, then it changes everything.’ He paused. ‘After all, it could just be loggers.’ Even as he said the words, he didn’t really believe it. They hadn’t come across anything that resembled a track the loggers would use to access the heart of the jungle.
