were large black twisted trees, spreading unrestrictedly their long, knotted and gnarled branches, often overgrown with moss and vines, invading every empty space. In some places innumerable thick strings of liana stems were draping the trees, hanging limply from the highest boughs, falling vertically down to the ground in veil-like misty black curtains. Overhead, huge palm leaves, deep-green philodendrons and jade-green ferns were dangling in the air, giving deep shadow like giant umbrellas.
Then they started to feel mud underneath their feet. A wet, swampy area stretched all around them now, rising slightly and then falling down once more, every now and again crossed by shallow streams. They found themselves climbing and then sliding down on the wet ground, often sinking so deep in the sticky reddish-brown mud that afterwards they could barely pull their legs out.
Suddenly Didier turned around and grabbed Florent’s arm tightly, stopping him in his tracks.
‘Look! I can see footprints, can’t you? It’s obvious that no bare feet made them but somebody wearing boots. What’s more, he must have passed here quite recently,’ he whispered hoarsely while studying the ground. ‘Oh, look over there, the whole area is trampled with footprints.’
‘It looks as though there were at least a dozen people,’ Florent agreed in an uncertain voice. ‘It can’t be Indians. Wearing shoes? So deep in the jungle?’
10
R ain began to fall, at first a steadily pelting shower, then a torrential downpour. The whipping veil of rain changed the jungle landscape making it look even gloomier and darker. Florent and Didier were soon drenched to the bone, but they were glad to let the cool water soothe their weary bodies. Soon the inert, stifling air became a little more crisp, making it easier to breathe.
Then suddenly the rain stopped. The dripping leaves glistened as timid sunbeams managed to break through the piled-up leaden clouds above. Innumerable shallow puddles dotted the path ahead. They trudged slowly on, their feet sending sprays of muddy water or sinking into mud. Occasionally the large slippery body of a snake would glide noiselessly and smoothly between gigantic roots towering above the ground, or along twisted tree branches. Everywhere small leeches wriggled in the wet earth.
Water came gushing from all corners of the jungle. Trickles at first, then rivulets which swelled later into wide, dirty streams that flooded the path. The temperature rose rapidly and soon the air was hot and stifling.
Here and there, small fluffs of white, semi-transparent fog were lingering in the air. The forest vegetation thinned out slightly and the path widened. It was winding along a valley – on the right was a high, vertical rock wall densely covered with bushes and trees, and on the left, gently undulating lush green slopes shrouded in a translucent mist.
Immediately, out of nowhere, appeared intrusive swarms of mosquitoes. Their continuous buzzing mingled with the joyful singing of birds. Then a swift loud flutter of wings startled the two young men. They turned to see a flock of parrots with richly coloured feathers in a mix of blue, yellow and red fly rapidly past.
Now that the fever had dropped, Florent felt a bit better. During the last few miles of their tiresome march his attention had been so focused on their surroundings and on forging ahead that he had almost forgotten about the pain in his leg. Instinctively he and Didier had the impression that they were nearing the end of their arduous journey. Although this conviction gave them renewed energy, at the same time Florent was gripped by a sensation of danger, of dark forces lying in wait for them, attracting them, forces that would decide their fate. Would they be able to escape them?
‘Listen, Didier . . .’ he began uncertainly, wanting to share his gloomy thoughts.
‘What?’
‘No, no, nothing.’ He stopped almost as suddenly as he’d begun fearing that
Then they started to feel mud underneath their feet. A wet, swampy area stretched all around them now, rising slightly and then falling down once more, every now and again crossed by shallow streams. They found themselves climbing and then sliding down on the wet ground, often sinking so deep in the sticky reddish-brown mud that afterwards they could barely pull their legs out.
Suddenly Didier turned around and grabbed Florent’s arm tightly, stopping him in his tracks.
‘Look! I can see footprints, can’t you? It’s obvious that no bare feet made them but somebody wearing boots. What’s more, he must have passed here quite recently,’ he whispered hoarsely while studying the ground. ‘Oh, look over there, the whole area is trampled with footprints.’
‘It looks as though there were at least a dozen people,’ Florent agreed in an uncertain voice. ‘It can’t be Indians. Wearing shoes? So deep in the jungle?’
10
R ain began to fall, at first a steadily pelting shower, then a torrential downpour. The whipping veil of rain changed the jungle landscape making it look even gloomier and darker. Florent and Didier were soon drenched to the bone, but they were glad to let the cool water soothe their weary bodies. Soon the inert, stifling air became a little more crisp, making it easier to breathe.
Then suddenly the rain stopped. The dripping leaves glistened as timid sunbeams managed to break through the piled-up leaden clouds above. Innumerable shallow puddles dotted the path ahead. They trudged slowly on, their feet sending sprays of muddy water or sinking into mud. Occasionally the large slippery body of a snake would glide noiselessly and smoothly between gigantic roots towering above the ground, or along twisted tree branches. Everywhere small leeches wriggled in the wet earth.
Water came gushing from all corners of the jungle. Trickles at first, then rivulets which swelled later into wide, dirty streams that flooded the path. The temperature rose rapidly and soon the air was hot and stifling.
Here and there, small fluffs of white, semi-transparent fog were lingering in the air. The forest vegetation thinned out slightly and the path widened. It was winding along a valley – on the right was a high, vertical rock wall densely covered with bushes and trees, and on the left, gently undulating lush green slopes shrouded in a translucent mist.
Immediately, out of nowhere, appeared intrusive swarms of mosquitoes. Their continuous buzzing mingled with the joyful singing of birds. Then a swift loud flutter of wings startled the two young men. They turned to see a flock of parrots with richly coloured feathers in a mix of blue, yellow and red fly rapidly past.
Now that the fever had dropped, Florent felt a bit better. During the last few miles of their tiresome march his attention had been so focused on their surroundings and on forging ahead that he had almost forgotten about the pain in his leg. Instinctively he and Didier had the impression that they were nearing the end of their arduous journey. Although this conviction gave them renewed energy, at the same time Florent was gripped by a sensation of danger, of dark forces lying in wait for them, attracting them, forces that would decide their fate. Would they be able to escape them?
‘Listen, Didier . . .’ he began uncertainly, wanting to share his gloomy thoughts.
‘What?’
‘No, no, nothing.’ He stopped almost as suddenly as he’d begun fearing that
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