stillness.
‘God, my ears are ringing,’ Melanie complained.
‘Does it look like a channel?’ Kevin asked Candace, who’d again gone up
to the bow.
‘It’s hard to tell,’ Candace said.
Kevin grabbed the back of the motor and tilted it up out of the water.
He didn’t want to foul the propeller in underwater vegetation.
The pirogue entered among the reeds. It scraped against the stems, then
glided to a halt. Kevin reached behind the boat to keep the towed canoe
from banging into the pirogue’s stern.
‘It looks like it goes forward in a meandering fashion,’ Candace said.
She was standing on the gunwale and holding onto the thatched roof of
the shelter so she could see over the top of the reeds.
Kevin snapped off a stem and broke it into small pieces. He tossed them
into the water next to the boat and watched them. They drifted slowly
but inexorably in the direction they were pointing.
‘There seems to be some current,’ Kevin said. ‘I think that’s a good
sign. Let’s give it a try with the canoe.’ Kevin moved the smaller boat
alongside the larger.
With difficulty because of the canoe’s unsteadiness, they managed to get
themselves into the smaller boat along with their gear and the food
chest. Kevin sat in the stern while Candace took the bow. Melanie sat in
the middle but not on one of the seats. Canoes made her nervous; she
preferred to sit on the bottom.
By a combination of paddling, pulling on reeds, and pulling on the
pirogue, they managed to get ahead of the larger boat. Once in what they
hoped was the channel, the going was considerably easier.
With Kevin paddling in the rear and Candace in the front they were able
to move at the pace of a slow walk. The narrow six-foot-wide passage
twisted and turned as it worked its way across the marsh. The sun was
now evidencing its equatorial power even though it was only eight
o’clock in the morning. The reeds blocked the breeze, effectively
raising the temperature even higher.
‘There’re not many trails on this island,’ Melanie commented. She’d
unfolded the contour map and was studying it.
‘The main one is from the staging area to Lago Hippo.’ Kevin said.
‘There are a few more,’ Melanie said. ‘All leading away from Lago Hippo.
I suppose they’d been made to facilitate retrievals.’
‘That would be my guess,’ Kevin said.
Kevin looked into the dark water. He could see strands of plant life
trailing in the direction they were paddling, suggesting there was
current. He was encouraged.
‘Why don’t you try the locator?’ Kevin said. ‘See if bonobo number sixty
has moved since we last checked.’
Melanie entered the information and clicked.
‘He doesn’t appear to have moved,’ she said. She reduced the scale until
it was equivalent to the scale on the contour map, then located the red
dot. ‘He’s still in the same spot in the marshy clearing.’
‘At least we can solve that mystery, even if we don’t see any of the
others,’ Kevin said.
Ahead, they approached the hundred-foot-high wall of jungle. As they
rounded the final bend in the marsh, they could see the channel
disappear into the riot of vegetation.
‘We’ll be in shade in a moment,’ Candace said. ‘That should make it a
lot cooler.’
‘Don’t count on it,’ Kevin said.
Pushing branches to the side, they silently slid into the perpetual
darkness of the forest. Contrary to Candace’s hopes it was like a muggy,
claustrophobic hot house. There was not a breath of air, and everything
dripped moisture. Although the thick canopy of tree limbs, twisted
vines, and hanging mosses completely blocked the sunlight, it also held
in the heat like a heavy woolen blanket. Some of the leaves were up to a
foot in diameter. Everyone was shocked by how dark it was in the tunnel
of vegetation until their eyes began to adjust. Slowly details appeared
out of the dank gloom until the scene resembled late twilight just
before night fall.
Almost from the moment the first branches snapped in place behind them,
they were assaulted by swarms of insects: mosquitoes, deer flies, and