Deep In The Jungle

by Gerry Griffiths

  If he listened hard enough, he could hear the faint sound of the fast flowing river somewhere off in the jungle. It was advisable, when lost, to follow a river as it would sooner or later lead to civilization. No matter how remote or hostile that may be.

  Ben picked up his rucksack and hung one of the straps over his right shoulder. He chose a direction he thought paralleled the river and made his way through the jungle.

  After traveling for more than an hour, Ben started to get the strange feeling he was being watched. Every time he thought there were eyes upon him, he would stop and look around.

  Sure there were birds and other small creatures in the overhead branches, and insects galore, and the occasional skittering in the underbrush, but nothing presented a genuine threat.

  Ben saw something out of the corner of his eye—a shadowy figure—darting between the trees. When he turned his head, whatever it had been was gone as if it hadn’t really been there, like a ghost.

  Again, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. This time he was sure what he saw, and it wasn’t an animal.

  It had been a very short person.

  Ben thought about challenging whoever it was, but he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention even though he knew he was being stalked.

  He stopped walking and stood still, listening to his surroundings. He could hear footfalls all around him.

  Ben glanced to his right and saw a small, dark-skinned man step out of the foliage. He was completely naked and carried a bow with a strung arrow. A quiver of arrows hung on his back. His face was painted white and red, and he had a plume of blue-dyed hair, which made him look like an exotic bird.

  Another naked man stepped out of the trees. He looked stoic and was armed with a long spear. One after another, his stalkers showed themselves, all of them naked and covered with different shades of body paint and strange headdresses.

  Not one of them stood over four feet tall.

  Ben soon realized he was surrounded by a band of pigmy warriors. He counted maybe twenty. There was no telling how many were hiding in the jungle.

  He had studied countless Amazonian tribes but had never seen, let alone met, any pigmies.

  Though they were shorter in stature, they looked exceptionally fierce, especially when banded together. Maybe it was their primitiveness, the fact they were all naked and lacked inhibitions, which meant they could be impulsively violent.

  Even though their faces and skin were covered with bright dyes, not one of them looked the same. Ben had no idea if their appearances had any significant meaning to status or if it was just an individual preference; either way, their makeup made them scary looking.

  If he had a weapon, he might have been tempted to reach for it but he didn’t. He had no choice but to try diplomacy.

  Ben raised his hands in a show of friendship.

  The pigmies pulled back their bowstrings and thrust out their spears.

  “I mean you no harm,” Ben said, realizing how stupid he sounded—like an astronaut upon landing on a strange planet and greeting a hostile group of aliens.

  Nonetheless, he stayed on the same tack. He cringed as he said, “I come in peace.”

  29

  After Frank consulted the map one more time, he told Ignacio to bring the boat ashore. There was no way he could be certain, but judging from the last time Wanda was able to track Ryan, this bend in the river was their best guess to the young man’s location.

  Ignacio turned the helm and steered the front of the boat up onto the bank. Enzo jumped out and tied the bow line around a tree. He came back and climbed aboard.

  “We’re going to need someone to remain on the boat,” Frank said.

  “I’ll stay with the boat,” Enzo said.

  “Good,” Frank said.

  “How will we know our way back?” Wanda asked.

  Frank looked over at Ignacio. “What if Enzo sounds the siren, let’s say, every four hours?”

  Enzo nodded to Ignacio that he understood the request.

  Frank looked at James and Kathy. “You two up for this?”

  “Yes,” Kathy said indignantly. “I’d do anything for Ben.”

  James gave her a questionable look.

  “How about you, James?”

  The young man looked at Frank. “You’re going to need my help.”

  “Well, then, I guess it’s settled,” Frank said, and as the others were packing up their gear, he guided Wanda away so they could talk alone. “You know, this is going to be grueling.”

  “By grueling, you mean what?”

  “I mean, this is going to be your worst nightmare.”

  “I don’t care. This is my son we’re talking about,” Wanda told him. “Don’t even go there.”

  “Sorry. You’re right.”

  Soon everyone was assembling on the shore, hitching their packs on their shoulders, doing a last minute check to see if they had forgotten anything.

  “Give us about fifteen minutes, and then give the siren a blast,” Frank said to Enzo.

  Enzo gazed at his wristwatch and gave Frank a nod.

  “Let’s head out.” Frank took the lead with Wanda right behind him. Besides his pack, he also had the hunting rifle slung over one shoulder. Wanda had her sidearm and was also carrying a lightweight sawed-off shotgun.

  James and Kathy followed next. James had a shotgun as well, but Kathy chose not to carry a weapon. Ignacio took up the rear to make sure no one got separated from the group, as there would likely be patches of forest so dense it would be easy to lose sight of a person.

  Frank carried a machete in his right hand for blazing a trail, but so far he hadn’t needed to use it. He’d been able to easily brush past the large palm leaves and hanging vines to make a path for the others. He could smell the sweet fragrance of the wild flowers and the bird-of-paradise.

  He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Wanda admiring the beautiful orchids growing on the tree trunks. She even stopped to sniff one of the flowers.

  A moth with a twelve-inch-long proboscis clung to the curved lip of the orchid and was gathering nectar from inside the deep narrow bowl.

  “Look at the tongue on that thing,” Wanda commented.

  “That’s Mother Nature for you,” Frank said. “If she hadn’t created these specialized pollinators, these orchids wouldn’t exist.”

  Wanda took a moment and stared up through the branches of a tree that seemed to go on forever.

  “That’s a kapok tree, the tallest in the Amazon rainforest. They can grow up to two hundred feet,” James said. “It’s a pretty amazing species. The natives use the bark, resin and other parts of the tree to treat fever and dysentery.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Everyone turned when they heard the sharp blast of the siren. It lasted for a few seconds and then went silent though there was a lingering echo but that soon faded away.

  Frank looked at his watch. “Enzo’s right on schedule.”

  30

  “I still can’t help feeling guilty,” Ally said. She was sitting in the back of the canoe, dipping her paddle in the water.

  “I know what you mean, but there’s not much we can do. Murilo wouldn’t let us help him with the cleanup as it’s against the resort’s rules to allow the guests to do staff work,” Macky said, sitting up front and stroking his paddle through the water.

  “He could have made an exception.”

  “Hey, we’re on a vacation,” Dillon piped in. He was wearing an orange lifejacket and sitting in the middle of the canoe with nothing to do but look out over the river and complain. He’d been antsy the entire morning; he didn’t want to just sit around and do nothing.

  Ally had come to her wits end having to listen to Dillon’s constant whining and finally gave in to her little brother.

  Macky had suggested going for a short canoe trip and got Dillon all hyped up about seeing some cool-looking fish like eels and armor-plated catfish.

  If they were lucky, they might
even spot some black caimans, which seemed likely, as there should be plenty of the freshwater alligators around seeing as the resort was named after them.

  Dillon dragged his hand in the water, something Ally frowned upon and had repeatedly told him not to do.

  “Keep your hand in the boat,” Ally said.

  “Why?” was always Dillon’s reply.

  “Because I said so.”

  Dillon kept his hand in the water.

  “You wouldn’t want a piranha to bite off a finger?” Ally said.

  “Be more like a hand,” Macky added.

  “You’re just trying to scare me,” Dillon said. “It’s not working.”

  Something brushed up against the bottom and rocked the canoe.

  Ally lunged for Dillon, fearing he might be pulled from the boat. At the same time, Macky spun around in his seat.

  The sudden movements on both their parts were enough to make the canoe tip and capsize, dumping them into the river.

  Ally came up and swam over, grabbing the back of Dillon’s life preserver.

  Macky had one hand on the upturned hull. He was treading water and looking around. They weren’t too far away from the shore.

  “What was that?” Ally asked Macky.

  “I just caught a glimpse. Pretty sure it was a caiman.”

  Without saying another word, Ally started to sidestroke with one arm as she towed Dillon behind her. Macky swam alongside the two, keeping his eyes open for any sign of a possible attack.

  “Are you scared now?” Ally said angrily.

  “I have to pee,” Dillon shouted.

  “Don’t Dillon! Hold it in,” Macky said. “We’re almost there.”

  “But I really have to go!”

  Soon their feet touched the river bottom and they were able to stand. They waded as fast as they could until they were completely out of the water and on the muddy bank.

  “You can go pee now,” Macky said.

  Dillon ran off and stood facing a bush. His zipper sounded, followed by a heavy stream of pee.

  “So what was that all about?” Ally asked Macky. “I don’t swim in your toilet, so don’t pee in my pool. Or should I say, river.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound like an alarmist but it's better to be safe than sorry. There’s a parasite fish, actually it’s a very small catfish. The candiru. There have been cases where the fish have...”

  “Have what?”

  “They’re small enough to swim up the urethra. They’re drawn to urine.”

  “Oh my God, and they’re real?” Ally said.

  “Well, to be honest I think there’s only been one case, and it was a woman. I just thought we better not chance it.” Macky looked out over the water. “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”

  Ally turned and saw their overturned canoe drifting downriver. “What do we do now?”

  “We think our best bet is to stay right here. Sooner or later, Murilo will realize we haven’t returned and he’ll come looking for us.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Look, it’s not going to be dark for a few hours. He’ll find us.”

  “Okay, if you say so,” Ally said.

  Dillon came over. He’d zipped part of his shirt in his pants.

  Ally reached down, unzipped his fly, and corrected the problem.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” Dillon asked, looking up eagerly at both Ally and Macky.

  Ally rolled her eyes and let out a mournful sigh.

  31

  Murilo knew Ignacio wouldn’t be pleased if he came back and saw the jungle litter all over the resort. The young man and woman remaining behind had insisted they help with the cleanup but Murilo refused their assistance, as it was not customary for guests to perform resort duties.

  The storm had caused quite a mess. He’d cleared most of the catwalks and had made numerous trips carrying fallen tree branches to the edge of the jungle. Even though the afternoon heat was sweltering, Murilo hadn’t broken a sweat. His tanned body was used to the harsh climate.

  Carrying his broom, Murilo walked around to a different section of walkway he hadn’t yet cleared away. As he stepped barefoot over the planks, he sensed danger lurking under a large palm leaf lying only a few feet away.

  The pit viper shot out of its cover, fangs bared as it went for Murilo’s right foot.

  He stepped back, bringing the broom down, and pinned the snake’s head with the coarse bristles. Reaching down, he grabbed the snake by the tail. Slowly, he raised the bristled-end of the broom.

  And then, in one quick motion, Murilo snapped the snake like a bullwhip; breaking its vertebra column. The viper went limp in Murilo’s hand and dangled onto the decking.

  There was more work to be done on the next walkway. But, before he started sweeping, he needed to go down and discard the snake in the bushes. He’d lost count of how many frogs and snakes and other animals he had thrown into the jungle. It was of no concern to him. By tomorrow, the carcasses would all be gone, and the nocturnal predators would be back in their dens, licking the blood from their claws.

  Murilo went down the stairs. He crossed over the short grass where the high brush ran up the sides of the trees.

  He flung the snake into the bushes.

  The big cat leapt out and pounced on Murilo. The two-hundred-pound jaguar latched onto Murilo with its sharp claws and tackled him to the ground. With jaws wide, the panther sunk its fangs into Murilo’s skull.

  Murilo’s body twitched then went still.

  The ambush had been quick and final.

  With Murilo’s head still in its mouth, the muscular jaguar dragged the dead man into the thicket.

  After a moment, there was a loud roar from the jungle.

  Then came the crunching of bone.

  32

  Ryan found a flat rock to hone the blade on his pocketknife. He worked up some spit and wetted the smooth stone. He passed the cutting edge of the knife back and forth, each pass making the blade sharper. When he was satisfied the steel was keen enough, he tested the blade and found it was as sharp as a razorblade when it sliced through a big leaf like it was a thin sheet of paper.

  His throat was parched from having to constantly use up his spit. He noticed some rainwater had collected on a large umbrella-shaped leaf. He was about to channel some of the water down into his cupped hand when Jackie stopped him.

  “You don’t want to drink that,” she warned. “Take a good look at what you almost drank.”

  Ryan leaned down and studied the trapped puddle. There were tiny, almost microscopic things squirming around in the water. “That’s not good.”

  “Not good is right. You’re probably looking at mosquito larvae and who knows what. This place is teeming with parasites.”

  “So what do we do? I’m dying of thirst,” Ryan said.

  “Well, now that you’ve sharpened your knife, I’ll show you.” Jackie looked around and pointed to some lianas hanging down from the trees. “Grab one of those vines, hold it up, and cut off the end.”

  Ryan held up a vine. He sliced through the end with his knife and was surprised to see water flow out of the vine like it was a garden hose and the spigot had just been turned on. He tilted his head under and let the water pour into his mouth. It was lukewarm but still tasted wonderful.

  He cut another vine so Jackie could drink.

  “So where did you learn that?” Ryan asked.

  “James. He taught me quite a few things.”

  “Oh?”

  “How to survive in the jungle. What do you think I was talking about?” Jackie said snidely.

  “Well, you guys were going together,” Ryan said with a smirk.

  “Just follow me and shut up.”

  Jackie carefully studied the surrounding plants as they weaved their way through the rainforest. She stopped to inspect a broadleaf shrub. “Here, take the leaves and crumbled them up. Then rub it all over your face and neck. Be sure to get your arms and hands good.
”

  “What’s it called?” Ryan asked as he followed Jackie’s instructions and tore off some leaves.

  “I forget the name. Remember, James is the botanist. I just know what it looks like. Anyway, this should keep the bugs off.”

  “So it works like an insect repellant.”

  “That’s right.”

  After they were through rubbing their skin with the leaves, Jackie led the way and after a few minutes, she stopped at another plant. She broke off a little portion of a leaf and handed it to Ryan.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Just chew it. It works somewhat like the cinchona bark, which is used for making quinine to cure malaria.”

  “And this really works?”

  “I guess. Sometimes I don’t know whether to believe James or not. He’s always been a bit of a showoff.”

  “So, for all we know, this plant could be poisonous,” Ryan said, eyeing the bit of leaf.

  “Or it could save you from dying a terrible death.”

  “I gotcha.” Ryan put the portion of leaf in his mouth and chewed it up.

  “Better shred some more up and keep them in your pocket. We need to dose up everyday.”

  “All right.” After he filled one trouser pocket, he looked around and saw a stand of bamboo stalks almost twenty feet tall. He went over and grabbed a large shoot and bent it down to the ground. Using his pocketknife, he cut two six-foot lengths. Then he carved spearheads into each one.

  Ryan handed Jackie a spear.

  “Not bad,” Jackie said, inspecting Ryan’s work.

  “Well, I am a carpenter apprentice by trade,” Ryan said proudly.

  “Oh, I would have thought you were a master spear maker.”

  “And I guess you’re the local pharmacist.”

  “Looks like we have new professions,” Jackie said.

  Ryan hefted his spear. “Better add hunter to the list.”

  “You think you’re going to be handy enough with that thing?”

  “Time will tell,” Ryan replied with a degree of confidence as he took the lead on their hike into the jungle.