his scratching, I plumped the softer bag with my clothes in it to use for a pillow and slipped my long-sleeved shirt over my head. I pulled out my quilt, hating to get it dirty but desperately needing the warmth and comfort it offered, and spread it out over my legs. Then I eased onto my side, tucked my hand under my cheek, stared at the fire, and felt fat tears slide down my face.
I started listening to the eerie sounds around me. I heard clicks, whistles, pops, and cracks everywhere, and started to imagine creepy crawly things burrowing in my hair and down into my socks. I shivered and sat up to tuck my quilt around me snugly, so that it covered every part of my body, and settled to the ground again wrapped up mummy-style.
That was much better, but then I imagined animals creeping up behind me. Just as I began to roll onto my back, Ren lay down right next to me, snuggled his back against mine, and began to purr.
Grateful, I wiped the tears off my cheeks and was able to tune out the night sounds by listening to Ren’s purr, which later changed into deep, rhythmic breathing. I inched a little closer to his back, surprised to find that I could sleep in the jungle after all.
A bright ray of sun hit my closed eyelids, and I slowly cracked them open. Not remembering where I was for a minute, I stretched my arms up over my head, only to cringe in pain as my back rubbed against the hard ground. I also felt a heavy weight on my leg. I looked down to see Ren, eyes squeezed tightly shut in sleep, with his head and one paw draped over my leg.
I whispered, “Ren. Wake up. My leg is asleep.”
He didn’t budge.
I sat up and shoved his body lightly. “Come on, Ren. Move!”
He growled softly but stayed put.
“Ren! I mean it!
Mooove!
” I shook my leg and shoved him harder.
He finally blinked open his eyes, yawned a giant, toothy tiger yawn, and then rolled off my leg and onto his side.
Standing up, I shook out my quilt, folded it, and tucked it into the bag. I also stamped out the ashes from the fire to make sure nothing was still burning.
“Just so you know, I
hate
camping,” I complained loudly. “I’m not so much appreciating that there’s no bathroom out here. ‘Nature calls’ while walking in the jungle is on my list of least favorite things. You tigers, and men in general, have it so much easier than us girls.”
I gathered up the empty bottles and wrappers and put them into the pack. The last thing I picked up was the yellow rope.
The tiger just sat there observing me. I decided to give up the pretense that I was the one leading him and stowed the rope away in the pack.
“Okay, Ren. I’m ready. Where are we heading off to today?”
Turning, he stalked off into the jungle again. He weaved his way around trees and undergrowth, over rocks and across small streams. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, and he even stopped for a break every once in a while, as if knowing I needed one. Now that the sun was out, the jungle was becoming quite steamy, so I took off my long-sleeved shirt and tied it back around my waist.
The jungle was very green and had a peppery kind of fragrance, much different than the forests of Oregon. The large deciduous trees were sparse and had graceful, willowy branches. The leaves were an olive-green color rather than the deep greens of the evergreens I was used to. The bark was dark gray and rough to the touch; where cracks formed, the bark peeled away and sloughed off in thin, flaky layers.
Flying squirrels leapt from tree to tree, and we often startled grazing deer. Smelling a tiger, they quickly bounced away on springy legs. I watched Ren to see his reaction, but he ignored them. I noticed another common tree that was more moderate in size and also had a papery bark, but where the bark split on this one, a sticky, gummy resin dripped down the trunk. I leaned against one to pick a pebble out of my shoe and spent the next hour trying to peel the goo off my fingers.
I’d just
I started listening to the eerie sounds around me. I heard clicks, whistles, pops, and cracks everywhere, and started to imagine creepy crawly things burrowing in my hair and down into my socks. I shivered and sat up to tuck my quilt around me snugly, so that it covered every part of my body, and settled to the ground again wrapped up mummy-style.
That was much better, but then I imagined animals creeping up behind me. Just as I began to roll onto my back, Ren lay down right next to me, snuggled his back against mine, and began to purr.
Grateful, I wiped the tears off my cheeks and was able to tune out the night sounds by listening to Ren’s purr, which later changed into deep, rhythmic breathing. I inched a little closer to his back, surprised to find that I could sleep in the jungle after all.
A bright ray of sun hit my closed eyelids, and I slowly cracked them open. Not remembering where I was for a minute, I stretched my arms up over my head, only to cringe in pain as my back rubbed against the hard ground. I also felt a heavy weight on my leg. I looked down to see Ren, eyes squeezed tightly shut in sleep, with his head and one paw draped over my leg.
I whispered, “Ren. Wake up. My leg is asleep.”
He didn’t budge.
I sat up and shoved his body lightly. “Come on, Ren. Move!”
He growled softly but stayed put.
“Ren! I mean it!
Mooove!
” I shook my leg and shoved him harder.
He finally blinked open his eyes, yawned a giant, toothy tiger yawn, and then rolled off my leg and onto his side.
Standing up, I shook out my quilt, folded it, and tucked it into the bag. I also stamped out the ashes from the fire to make sure nothing was still burning.
“Just so you know, I
hate
camping,” I complained loudly. “I’m not so much appreciating that there’s no bathroom out here. ‘Nature calls’ while walking in the jungle is on my list of least favorite things. You tigers, and men in general, have it so much easier than us girls.”
I gathered up the empty bottles and wrappers and put them into the pack. The last thing I picked up was the yellow rope.
The tiger just sat there observing me. I decided to give up the pretense that I was the one leading him and stowed the rope away in the pack.
“Okay, Ren. I’m ready. Where are we heading off to today?”
Turning, he stalked off into the jungle again. He weaved his way around trees and undergrowth, over rocks and across small streams. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, and he even stopped for a break every once in a while, as if knowing I needed one. Now that the sun was out, the jungle was becoming quite steamy, so I took off my long-sleeved shirt and tied it back around my waist.
The jungle was very green and had a peppery kind of fragrance, much different than the forests of Oregon. The large deciduous trees were sparse and had graceful, willowy branches. The leaves were an olive-green color rather than the deep greens of the evergreens I was used to. The bark was dark gray and rough to the touch; where cracks formed, the bark peeled away and sloughed off in thin, flaky layers.
Flying squirrels leapt from tree to tree, and we often startled grazing deer. Smelling a tiger, they quickly bounced away on springy legs. I watched Ren to see his reaction, but he ignored them. I noticed another common tree that was more moderate in size and also had a papery bark, but where the bark split on this one, a sticky, gummy resin dripped down the trunk. I leaned against one to pick a pebble out of my shoe and spent the next hour trying to peel the goo off my fingers.
I’d just
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