Anaconda Ambush
Page 8
Then there was a big feast held in our honour. The whole village attended, as well as Uncle Shaun, Caesar and me. There were many sorts of strange food and all of it was delicious, but I was careful not to eat any meat.
When we were leaving, Gabriel and his father presented me with a blowgun and six darts – without poison tips.
‘Father say thank you.’
Early the next morning I finally saw a jaguar. We had just pulled out from shore in the prospectors’ peke-peke, towing ours behind us on a long rope with Henry and Bernard aboard. Neither of them had objected to swapping boats, they were just grateful to be leaving the jungle behind. In exchange for not reporting them to the police, both prospectors had promised to leave Brazil on the next flight out – and never return.
‘Look, Sam – a jaguar.’
I looked where Uncle Shaun was pointing. The big spotted cat stood proudly on the rocks above the waterfall, watching us go chugging off down the Matatoro River.
‘You are very lucky to see a jaguar, Mr Sam,’ said Caesar. ‘They are very rare.’
‘And getting rarer,’ Uncle Shaun said.
He explained how global warming and logging were destroying the jungle. ‘The trees of the Amazon rainforest are the lungs of the world,’ he said. ‘They take carbon dioxide out of the air and make it fit for humans to breathe. If we cut down all the trees, it won’t only affect the animals and birds, it will affect the whole human race.’
It was pretty scary. And it got me thinking.
‘Uncle Shaun,’ I said, slipping my hand into my pocket, ‘you know how Henry and Bernard were looking for diamonds and gold and stuff. What if someone did find gold here, and started a gold mine? Would they have to cut down many trees?’
Uncle Shaun looked grim. ‘Millions,’ he said. ‘There wouldn’t just be a gold mine, there’d be trucks, roads, drains running into the river, pollution. Eventually there might even be a town and an airfield. Environmentally, it would be a complete disaster.’
I’d known all along that Uncle Shaun didn’t like prospectors. That’s why I hadn’t told him about the gold. Only Henry and Bernard knew. But they didn’t know where I’d found it. And if they broke their word and came back up the river looking, they’d never find it. The Big Beast would keep its secret.
The lump of gold was heavy in my hand. Running my fingers over its cold, hard surface, I looked back one last time. The jaguar had disappeared. But right below the waterfall, a long glistening shape rose out of the foaming water like the head and neck of a mythical sea monster. I got goose bumps all over. The giant anaconda was two hundred metres from the peke-peke – too far away for me to see its eyes – but I could swear it was watching me.
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ I whispered.
Dipping my hand into the river, I let the gold slip from my fingers.