Forest Fire

by J. Burchett

  Wild Rescue: Forest Fire

  published in 2011 by

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  85 High Street

  Prahran, Victoria 3181, Australia

  www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au

  First published by Stripes Publishing

  1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road

  London SW6 6AW

  The pages of this book are printed on paper derived

  from forests promoting sustainable management.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.

  Text copyright © 2009 Jan Burchett and Sara Vogler

  Illustrations copyright © 2009 Dianne Le Feyer of Cartoon Saloon

  Cover illustration and design © 2011 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  FOR THE ORANGUTAN FOUNDATION -

  FOR ALL THE GREAT WORK THEY

  DO IN HELPING TO SAVE THESE

  WONDERFUL CREATURES - JB & SV

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  “Ready?” yelled Ben, pointing at the huge wave rolling towards them.

  His twin sister Zoe grinned. “Ready!” Lying flat on her surfboard she began to paddle with her hands, getting up speed as the swell approached. When they felt the wave lift them, they jumped up and whizzed towards the shore, arms outstretched. They were having a great week staying at Gran’s cottage by the sea.

  “Awesome,” exclaimed Ben, gathering up his board. “I felt like a killer shark!”

  Zoe looked at him in his shiny purple wetsuit, his brown hair sticking up in salty spikes. “A killer grape more like!” she laughed.

  “Ben! Zoe!”

  They looked up the beach to where Gran was waving at them and pointing out to sea.

  They turned to see a sleek catamaran slicing towards them. A blonde woman was at the helm.

  “It’s Erika!” gasped Ben, as they watched the cat spin to a sudden halt, sending spray into the air. “Looks like we’re off on another Wild adventure!”

  Ben and Zoe’s parents were international vets and wherever their work took them the children usually went too. But this September they would be starting secondary school, so they had to stay in England with their gran for the summer. They’d been expecting six dull weeks until their godfather, Dr Stephen Fisher, had got in touch and recruited them into Wild, his top-secret organisation dedicated to saving endangered animals. Their grandmother was the only other person who knew about it.

  Yelling goodbye to Gran, they swam out towards the catamaran. Erika Bohn, Uncle Stephen’s second-in-command, stretched out a hand and helped them up the ladder.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Erika shouted, as they sped across the waves. “Dr Fisher is really pleased with your work for Wild. This time he’s trusting you with a particularly difficult task, but as usual he wants to tell you himself.”

  She handed Zoe an envelope. “Here’s your clue.”

  Zoe tipped up the envelope and a glass eyeball fell into her hand. She showed it to Ben.

  “Deep brown iris,” he said, inspecting it closely. “Looks almost human – except the white’s quite dark.”

  Zoe peered at it. “Do you think it’s one of the apes? That would be so cool.”

  She knew what to do next. She looked at the catamaran’s control panel and located a small hole next to the radar screen.

  “Let’s find out,” she said, slipping the eyeball in.

  “Greetings, godchildren!” came a voice, and the hologram of a man appeared in front of them. He wore a baseball cap over his thick red hair and his shirt hung over his trousers.

  “Good old Uncle Stephen!” said Zoe. “Eccentric as ever.”

  “Ready for a really urgent Wild mission?” asked the image. Then it chuckled. “I don’t know why I’m asking – of course you are. Never had such eager operatives as you two! Well, there’s an orang-utan in trouble in Borneo. Tell you more when you get to HQ.”

  Uncle Stephen gave a cheery wave and disappeared.

  Zoe sighed. “An orang-utan. Wow!

  They’re such lovely, gentle creatures.”

  “And so endangered,” added Ben. “Did you know that –”

  “Their habitat is threatened by logging?” interrupted Zoe.

  “I was going to say –”

  “That they can use sign language? I knew that, too.”

  “No. I was about to say that they’re more intelligent than you,” said Ben, ducking away from her friendly shove with a grin.

  Ben and Zoe gazed over the rough water as a small island came into view. There were a few buildings scattered about a ramshackle farm, with chickens pecking on the scrubby land. Erika brought down the sail and steered the cat deep into the gloom underneath a battered old jetty that looked as if it hadn’t been used for years. As they climbed the waiting ladder, she pressed a remote and the craft glided forwards into a boat shed set in the bank.

  Ben and Zoe knew the routine by now. They made for the tumbledown outside toilet, Erika at their heels. Ben bolted the door and Zoe pulled the chain.

  Whoosh! The cubicle turned into a lift and shot deep into the earth.

  “Who needs a rollercoaster when we’ve got Uncle Stephen’s turbo toilet!” Ben laughed, clutching his belly.

  Zoe and Erika followed Ben along a well-lit corridor to the Control Room. They placed their fingertips on an ID pad.

  “Print identification complete,” announced the electronic voice.

  They burst into a bright room full of flashing control panels and computer screens – the nerve centre of Wild HQ. A pair of plimsolled feet was sticking out from under a console.

  “Uncle Stephen,” called Zoe softly.

  There was a thump and a muffled curse, then the gangly figure of their godfather emerged, rubbing his head.

  “Hello there,” he said cheerfully. “Just fixing the phase converters. I’ve got the whole place running on solar power now.” He looked at their wetsuits. “I know you’re going to the rainforest, but it won’t be that wet!”

  “I picked Ben and Zoe up from the beach,” explained Erika.

  “Let me tell you about your mission.” Uncle Stephen grinned. He touched a plasma screen and brought up a satellite map of a large island. “Borneo,” he announced. “There was once a huge rainforest here, but there’s been a lot of logging over the last few years – legal and illegal.”

  “I’ve read all about that,” said Ben. “They’re clearing the land for oil palm plantations. Palm oil’s used all over the world – in margarine, soap, candles, cosmetics – loads of things.”

  “Mr Know-it-all.” Zoe raised her eyebrows. “But you’re right. The rainforest’s disappearing really fast. Is that something to do with the orang-utan in danger?”

  “Spot on, Zoe,” said her godfather. “We’ve had reports from one of our operatives out there about an orang-utan called Kawan. Until recently he was living safely on the Adilah Reservation. But then suddenly he left his territory.”

  “Mat Ginting, who runs the rese
rvation, had reared him from a baby,” Erika explained. “He reintroduced Kawan into the wild last year.”

  “Orang-utans don’t become independent until they’re about seven or eight, do they?” said Ben. “No other animal in the world stays with its mother that long.”

  “You’re correct, Ben,” said Dr Fisher. “Kawan’s about eight now. He had initially adapted well to living in the wild and had established his own territory. Male orang-utans live alone and their territory is very important to them. The only time they come near to other orang-utans is for mating or to fight another male who’s strayed into their space.”

  “But then two weeks ago, there was some illegal logging in his area,” said Erika. “Some men came at night and cut down several trees before they were chased off. Wood is valuable and they intended to sell it. One of the felled trees had an orang-utan nest made of leaves that were still fresh, so Kawan must have been sleeping there. He fled in terror and hasn’t been back since.”

  “So he’s completely disappeared?” said Zoe.

  “There have been a couple of sightings outside the reservation on a nearby oil palm plantation.” Uncle Stephen took up the story. “But he hasn’t wanted to come back to his territory. Now this is serious.

  Kawan is essential for Mr Ginting’s dream of increasing the orang-utan population.

  There are very few males on the reservation.”

  “And orang-utans breed very slowly, don’t they?” said Ben.

  Uncle Stephen nodded. “A female may only have two or three babies in her whole lifetime.” He pressed the screen again and a photo of a smiling young Bornean with black hair appeared. “Here’s Mat Ginting. He set up the reservation ten years ago to help preserve the rainforest and its endangered inhabitants.”

  “He must be very brave,” said Zoe. “I read that there are a lot of people who’ll do anything to snatch rainforest land.”

  “Indeed, Zoe,” agreed Dr Fisher. “Mat’s one in a million. He’s been running the reservation against all the odds, but money’s becoming increasingly tight so he’s going to start taking paying visitors.”

  “Apparently there’s a grand opening in a few days,” Erika added, “which is perfect timing for us. Tourists will be able to stay there and see orang-utans in their natural habitat.”

  “So you want us to pose as visitors to the reservation, locate Kawan and bring him back to his home?” asked Ben.

  Dr Fisher nodded. “Of course, Mat Ginting mustn’t know about our organisation. And that’s why you two are perfect for the job. He’s unlikely to suspect a couple of kids.”

  “We’re pretending you’ve won a competition by writing about endangered wildlife,” said Erika.

  “Erika’s idea.” Uncle Stephen beamed. “And a very good one.”

  “We’ve told Mr Ginting that the prize was a trip to a sanctuary in Brunei,” Erika continued, “but unfortunately the people there had to cancel at the last minute because of illness. We asked if he could take you instead and he was delighted. In fact, you’re going to be his very first guests.”

  “So you need to be on your way,” said Uncle Stephen eagerly.

  “What about our BUGs?” Ben reminded him.

  “Of course!” Their godfather handed over what looked like two games consoles. The Brilliant Undercover Gizmos had a lot of useful functions: working as communicators, scent dispersers, translators and much more.

  “I’ve invented a new gadget especially for this mission,” said Dr Fisher, passing over a belt and pair of boots each. “Inside the boots there is the EEL – the Electronic Escape Line – a top-of-the-range bungee cord to prevent an over-speedy descent.”

  “In other words, it will save you if you’re falling from a height!” explained Erika. “And you may be spending a lot of time in the trees in Borneo. All you need to do to activate it is press the silver button on the belt. Now, time to get you out of those wetsuits!”

  “Hope you get Kawan back,” called Uncle Stephen, diving back under the console.

  “You can count on us!” declared Ben.

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  Erika drove the hired jeep through a pair of wooden gates and parked in a bare earth courtyard.

  Bright, new wooden buildings joined to form two sides of the square. The whole courtyard was hung with colourful bunting and flags. Trees lined the fourth side and towered over the roofs all around, as if the rainforest was just waiting to take back this little space.

  “The Adilah Reservation,” announced Ben. “We’re here!”

  He and Zoe jumped out of the car and gasped in the humid afternoon heat after the cool of the car’s air-conditioning.

  Insects buzzed overhead and they could hear exotic bird and animal cries from the forest. Two workers were fixing a banner over the entrance of one of the buildings.

  It read: “Grand Opening Today”. Another man came over eagerly to greet them.

  He was carrying a hammer and nails, and a heavy sign. They recognised him from the photo they’d seen.

  “Hello there! You must be Ben and Zoe!” He put down his tools and sign and shook the children’s hands enthusiastically. “I’m Mat Ginting. Welcome to my reservation.”

  “It’s great to be here,” said Zoe with a beaming smile.

  Erika took their backpacks from the boot. “We’re so grateful you agreed to take on our winners,” she said to Mat. “I’ll pick them up at the end of their stay. Enjoy your prize, Ben and Zoe.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bohn,” they replied politely. The children knew they mustn’t show that she was anything more than the organiser of the competition. They also knew that Erika was heading off north to check out reports of more illegal logging.

  Zoe looked at the sign Mat had been carrying. She’d seen the design on the journey. It was a huge “O” encircling a globe and supported by caring hands. They’d passed field after field where the forest had been cleared for oil palm trees. Every one of them had displayed this sign.

  “Whose logo is that?” asked Zoe. “We kept seeing it on the way here.”

  “Ostrander Industries,” Mat told her. “Pieter Ostrander, the owner, has been very generous in giving donations to help us with our work. The least we could do is put up his plantation logo in time for the ceremony. He’s promised to make a speech for us.”

  “But isn’t his plantation threatening the rainforest?” asked Ben. “It’s taken over a huge area. We drove for several miles seeing nothing but his oil palms.”

  “And they’re not even a native tree of Borneo!” burst in Zoe.

  “We have to keep a balance,” said Mat. “The plantation gives jobs to the locals and the forest must be preserved. That’s why I took this land and I’ll keep it safe. When Pieter first bought the plantation a few years ago he approached me and asked if I would sell him my reservation, but as soon as I told him what I was doing, he became very supportive. In fact, I’ve just had trouble with illegal logging in the east of my land. Pieter lent me some men to patrol the area and the loggers haven’t been back since. Pieter’s a good friend.”

  “Greetings!” called a voice.

  A smiling young woman came out of one of the buildings. A baby orang-utan clung to her neck, its head against her shoulder. It had soft orange hair and a round, baby belly. It looked solemnly at the children.

  “My name is Yasmin,” said the woman, pushing her long, dark fringe out of her eyes. “I am Mat’s wife. And you must be the competition winners. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” said Ben with a grin.

  “Who’s this?” asked Zoe, stroking the soft fur of the baby orang-utan. It grabbed her finger and held it. Zoe couldn’t help letting out a happy sigh.

  “His name is Biza,” said Yasmin fondly. “He is an orphan we are caring for. We cannot resist a baby who needs help. They go back into the wild when they are old enough.”

  “But they do come back to see us,” added Mat. “Orang-utans make a bond with their primary carer.
Some of the females show us their babies as if we were grandparents!”

  “And we are just as proud!” laughed Yasmin. “Come. Biza and I will show you your bedroom and you can unpack. In an hour we have our opening ceremony.”

  Ben and Zoe breathed in the welcoming smell of new wood as they followed her through a kitchen with a huge table to a corridor of bedrooms.

  “These are the guest quarters,” she announced. “When you are ready Mat will be waiting for you in his office. It is across the courtyard.”

  Left alone in their cool bedroom with its two beds and shower room, Ben and Zoe quickly emptied their backpacks of everything but their essential Wild equipment. Zoe detached the translator earpiece from her BUG and stuck it into her ear.

  “Don’t forget yours, Ben,” she said. “We want to understand everything people are saying, even when they’re speaking Malay.”

  The children found Mat sitting in an office, working at an old-fashioned computer.

  “I’m updating my records while I have a chance,” he told them, as he handed them a welcome drink of iced juice. “I make daily entries about our orang-utans…well, all but one.”

  “Why not all?” Zoe made it sound like a casual enquiry.

  Ben grinned to himself. His sister wasn’t wasting time in finding out information for their mission.

  “One of our orang-utans has left the reservation,” Mat told them. “He’s a young male called Kawan. He’s been with us since he was tiny. He was taken from his mother by poachers who were going to sell him as a pet to some rich westerner!”

  “That’s awful!” gasped Zoe.

  “Luckily, they were arrested in time and Kawan was brought to me,” Mat went on.

  “I had no idea where he’d come from so I couldn’t find his mother. He was the first orang-utan I raised from a baby.”

  He sighed, a wistful look on his face. “I released him into the wild last year. But he still came by every morning for a rusk. Until two weeks ago, that is. He hasn’t been back since the logging scared him off.”

  “Is he more wary of humans than other orang-utans are because of what happened when he was little?” asked Ben.