gotten it off when we weaved through a particularly dense undergrowth of tall grasses and bamboo and sent a flock of colorful birds into flight. I was so startled that I backed into another sap tree and got sticky sap all over my upper arm.
Ren stopped at a small stream. I pulled out a bottle of water and drank it all down. It was nice to have less weight in the backpack, but I was concerned about where I would get water from after my supply ran out. I supposed I could drink from the same stream as Ren, but I would put that off for as long as possible, knowing that my body wouldn’t handle it as well as his.
I sat down on a rock and searched for another energy bar. I ate half of one and gave Ren the other half, plus another one. I knew I could survive on that many calories, but I was pretty sure Ren couldn’t. He’d have to hunt soon.
Opening a pocket of Mr. Kadam’s backpack, I found a compass. I pushed it into the pocket of my jeans. There was still money, the traveling papers, more water bottles, a first aid kit, bug spray, a candle, and a pocketknife, but no cell phone, and my personal cell phone was missing.
Strange. Could Mr. Kadam have known that I would end up in the jungle?
I thought about the man who looked like Mr. Kadam standing by the truck right before it was stolen and wondered aloud, “Did he
want
me to get lost out here?”
Ren wandered over to me and sat down.
“No,” I said, looking into the animal’s blue eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense either. What reason could he possibly have for flying me all the way to India just to get me lost in the jungle? He couldn’t have known you would lead me in here or that I’d follow you. He’s not the type to deceive anyway.”
Ren gaze shifted to the ground as if
he
felt guilty.
“I guess Mr. Kadam is just a really well-prepared Boy Scout.”
After a brief rest, Ren got up again, walked off a few paces, and turned around to wait for me. Complaining, I dragged myself off the rock, and followed along behind him. Pulling out the bug spray, I gave my limbs a good spritz and squirted some on Ren for good measure. I laughed when he wrinkled his nose and a big tiger sneeze shook his body.
“So, Ren, where are we going? You act like you have a destination in mind. Personally, I’d like to get back to civilization. So if you could find us a town, I’d be most appreciative.”
He continued to lead me on a trail that only he could see for the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon.
I checked my compass often and figured out that we were traveling eastward. I was trying to calculate how many miles we’d walked when Ren burrowed between some bushes. I followed him to find a small clearing on the other side.
With great relief, I saw a small hut that sat right in the middle of the clearing. Its curved roof was covered with rows of canes tied close together that draped over the top of the structure like a blanket. Stringy fibers, tied into intricate knots, lashed large bamboo poles together to make walls, and the cracks were thatched with dried grasses and clay.
The hut was surrounded by a barrier of loose stones piled on top of each other to create a short wall about two feet high. The stones were covered in thick, verdant moss. In front of the hut, thin panels of stone were affixed to the wall and were painted with an indecipherable assortment of symbols and shapes. The shelter’s doorway was so tiny that an average-sized person would have to bend over to enter. There was a line of clothing flapping in the wind, and a small flourishing garden was planted on the side of the home.
We approached the rock wall, and just as I was stepping over, Ren leapt over the barrier next to me. “Ren! You scared the stuffing out of me! Make a noise first or something, would you?”
We approached the small hut, and I steeled myself to knock on the tiny door, but then I hesitated, looking at Ren. “We need to do something about you first.” I took the
Ren stopped at a small stream. I pulled out a bottle of water and drank it all down. It was nice to have less weight in the backpack, but I was concerned about where I would get water from after my supply ran out. I supposed I could drink from the same stream as Ren, but I would put that off for as long as possible, knowing that my body wouldn’t handle it as well as his.
I sat down on a rock and searched for another energy bar. I ate half of one and gave Ren the other half, plus another one. I knew I could survive on that many calories, but I was pretty sure Ren couldn’t. He’d have to hunt soon.
Opening a pocket of Mr. Kadam’s backpack, I found a compass. I pushed it into the pocket of my jeans. There was still money, the traveling papers, more water bottles, a first aid kit, bug spray, a candle, and a pocketknife, but no cell phone, and my personal cell phone was missing.
Strange. Could Mr. Kadam have known that I would end up in the jungle?
I thought about the man who looked like Mr. Kadam standing by the truck right before it was stolen and wondered aloud, “Did he
want
me to get lost out here?”
Ren wandered over to me and sat down.
“No,” I said, looking into the animal’s blue eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense either. What reason could he possibly have for flying me all the way to India just to get me lost in the jungle? He couldn’t have known you would lead me in here or that I’d follow you. He’s not the type to deceive anyway.”
Ren gaze shifted to the ground as if
he
felt guilty.
“I guess Mr. Kadam is just a really well-prepared Boy Scout.”
After a brief rest, Ren got up again, walked off a few paces, and turned around to wait for me. Complaining, I dragged myself off the rock, and followed along behind him. Pulling out the bug spray, I gave my limbs a good spritz and squirted some on Ren for good measure. I laughed when he wrinkled his nose and a big tiger sneeze shook his body.
“So, Ren, where are we going? You act like you have a destination in mind. Personally, I’d like to get back to civilization. So if you could find us a town, I’d be most appreciative.”
He continued to lead me on a trail that only he could see for the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon.
I checked my compass often and figured out that we were traveling eastward. I was trying to calculate how many miles we’d walked when Ren burrowed between some bushes. I followed him to find a small clearing on the other side.
With great relief, I saw a small hut that sat right in the middle of the clearing. Its curved roof was covered with rows of canes tied close together that draped over the top of the structure like a blanket. Stringy fibers, tied into intricate knots, lashed large bamboo poles together to make walls, and the cracks were thatched with dried grasses and clay.
The hut was surrounded by a barrier of loose stones piled on top of each other to create a short wall about two feet high. The stones were covered in thick, verdant moss. In front of the hut, thin panels of stone were affixed to the wall and were painted with an indecipherable assortment of symbols and shapes. The shelter’s doorway was so tiny that an average-sized person would have to bend over to enter. There was a line of clothing flapping in the wind, and a small flourishing garden was planted on the side of the home.
We approached the rock wall, and just as I was stepping over, Ren leapt over the barrier next to me. “Ren! You scared the stuffing out of me! Make a noise first or something, would you?”
We approached the small hut, and I steeled myself to knock on the tiny door, but then I hesitated, looking at Ren. “We need to do something about you first.” I took the
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