by J. Burchett
“It seems that way,” said Mat. “At least I know he’s alive. One of my staff, Daud, sighted him on Mr Ostrander’s oil palm plantation at the edge of the reservation when he was working on the walkway.”
He grinned at them. “Would you like to see some footage of Kawan doing his jungle training? It’s me showing him how to look after himself – being his mother in a way. I’m sure we have time before the ceremony.”
“Yes please,” said Ben and Zoe together.
Mat took them through into a larger room where log benches faced a screen. He gestured for them to sit. “You’re the first guests to see this,” he said. “Daud filmed it. He’s very fond of Kawan, too.” The screen flashed into life and the words “Adilah Reservation” appeared. Mat fast-forwarded to a scene where he was teaching a tiny orang-utan how to climb a tree. The solemn little ape had a comical tuft of light hair sticking up on one side of his head. He was faithfully copying Mat’s every move until Mat made a strange chirruping noise.
“Kawan always comes to that call,” explained Mat. “At least he did. Now he must be too far away to hear it. When the official opening is over and we’re all back to normal I’m going to go and find him. Pieter let me have a look on the plantation before, but I haven’t had the chance to do a thorough search. The plantation’s not a natural home for an orang-utan – and I fear he must be eating the young oil palm seedlings. That’s not fair on Pieter.”
They watched the footage of young Kawan responding to Mat’s call by abandoning his task, climbing on Mat’s head and clinging to his ears.
“Ahhh,” said Ben. “How cute. Do show it again.”
Zoe looked at him, puzzled. It wasn’t like her brother to go gooey over animals. That was her job!
But as the film replayed she glimpsed him slip out his BUG and hit a button. Now she knew what he was up to. He was recording Mat’s call. She smiled to herself. If they could get to Kawan’s old territory, they could play the recording through the digital super-amplifier on the BUG. Hopefully the orang-utan would hear it and come home.
CHAPTER
THREE
“Look at all that food!” exclaimed Ben, staring hungrily at the feast spread out on tables in the courtyard. “I’m ready for my lunch.”
“You’ll have to wait till after the speeches,” hissed Zoe. “The opening ceremony’s about to begin.”
Ben and Zoe were standing with Mat and Yasmin – and Biza – at the front of a large crowd of locals, waiting for Pieter Ostrander to arrive. A reporter was already taking photos of the new buildings.
One of the workers they’d seen when they arrived was putting jugs of drink on the table. He smiled at Ben and sneaked him a piece of bread.
Ben tried to nibble it without being seen. “Thanks!” he said gratefully. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“I’m Daud,” said the young man. He pointed to the other man who’d been helping him earlier. He was older, with greying hair, and stood on his own in the middle of the crowd. “And that is Talib. We work for Mat.”
Ben and Zoe were just introducing themselves when there was the roar of an engine and a sleek, sporty jeep drove through the gates. There was something large in the back, wrapped in brown paper. The jeep came to a halt and a tall, tanned man in smart, well-pressed trousers stepped out, beaming at everyone.
Mat brought him through the crowd. “Come and meet our competition winners, Pieter,” he said as they approached the children. “Ben and Zoe, this is Mr Ostrander.”
“I’ve heard all about you,” said Pieter Ostrander. “Well done! So what did you do to make sure yours was the best entry?”
Zoe felt Ben’s eyes on her. They realised they hadn’t worked out a story.
“We…um…wrote an essay on…” she began.
“…the problems facing the Giant Panda in the wild,” finished Ben.
That was clever, thought Zoe. They knew a lot about pandas – and how to rescue them!
“Fascinating,” said Mr Ostrander. “It’s good to see young people like you taking such an interest in endangered species.”
“Mat has told us all about you, too, Mr Ostrander,” said Ben. “He explained how much your company has helped him with the reservation.”
“Just doing a neighbour a good turn,” said Mr Ostrander. “We both have the same values. We want to protect what we have.”
“I think we’re ready now, Pieter,” said Mat. He called for silence. “Thank you for coming here today for the Grand Opening Ceremony of the Adilah Reservation!
Mr Ostrander will now say a few words.”
He spoke first in Malay and then in English for Ben and Zoe. The children gave each other a glance. Little did Mat know that their earpieces were translating every word.
Mr Ostrander turned to the assembled crowd.
“We are here today to open this wonderful place and I would like to say a few words to honour the man who made it all possible – Mat Ginting.”
Mat bent his head and shuffled his feet in embarrassment as Mr Ostrander sang his praises.
“And in conclusion,” Mr Ostrander said, “I declare the Adilah Reservation open for business.” He walked over to his jeep. “Now if your men could give me a hand,” he said. “I’ve got a present for you.”
Mat spoke over his shoulder in Malay and Talib and Daud went over to the jeep. They helped Mr Ostrander lift out the large, bulky package. It looked as if it was very heavy. Mr Ostrander cut the string and pulled away the paper. Everyone gasped as a wooden statue of an orang-utan was revealed. The reporter stepped forward and took pictures.
“It’s wonderful!” exclaimed Mat, stroking the polished wood. “It will have pride of place by the gates.”
“Now eat, everyone!” laughed Yasmin, pointing to the tables.
Ben didn’t wait to be asked twice.
As Ben and Zoe piled their plates with food, Mat came over.
“When this is all over, I’ll take you out into the reservation,” he said. “There’ll be time before nightfall.”
“Awesome!” declared Ben, giving Zoe a secret thumbs up.
They each knew what the other was thinking. They were going to make sure that Mat took them to Kawan’s old territory.
CHAPTER
FOUR
The ceremony and meal were over at last, and Ben and Zoe sat in the shade of the reservation courtyard. Ben fidgeted impatiently.
“Sit still!” Zoe poked her brother in the ribs. “Mat said he’d be here at four o’clock, the moment he’s said goodbye to all his guests. It’s not even five to yet.”
“I know, but I can’t wait,” groaned Ben, jumping up to look at the map displayed on the wall behind them. “A guided tour on walkways right up in the trees, with viewing platforms all along the way. So cool!”
“Don’t forget – we’re here for Kawan,” Zoe reminded him. “We’ve got to find out all we can.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” said Ben indignantly. “I’ve got the recording all ready to play if we get the chance to be on our own.”
“Ready?” came an eager voice.
Mat was back. He handed them each a pair of binoculars and a paper bag. “There are rusks for the orang-utans in here. They love them.”
He led them along a narrow pathway through the trees. At the sound of their footsteps shrill, harsh warning cries could be heard.
“Proboscis monkeys,” explained Mat.
“Very excitable.” He stopped at a huge climbing frame of reddish wood where a ladder led up to a high, railed platform.
“What are we waiting for?” said Ben, grabbing the rungs.
“Great to see you’re so keen, Ben,” said Mat. “I expect this is the first time you’ll actually come face to face with real wild animals.”
Ben and Zoe just smiled.
“Don’t forget, if any animal gets close, just stay quiet and calm. We’re sure to come across some orang-utans. They’re peaceable creatures – and very nosy. They’ll probably co
me to you. The walkways are secure and every platform has an escape ladder down to the ground. Enough safety talk. Let’s climb!”
“I wish we could catch sight of…what was the name of the young orang-utan that’s gone missing?” Zoe asked innocently, as they reached the top of the ladder and stepped on to the platform. A walkway made of slats of wood fixed on long ropes stretched away into the distance.
“Kawan,” said Mat. “We’ll head for the area that used to be his territory. I keep hoping he’ll be there.”
Mat stepped on to the walkway, grasping the handrails. It swayed gently under his weight. The children followed him eagerly along the aerial path from tree to tree.
Above the harsh croaking of frogs, macaques screeched as they swung from tree to tree and parrots shrieked from nearby branches. At each platform there were information boards about the creatures to look out for. Ben studied each one.
“What are those?” asked Zoe, pointing at some odd-looking birds perched above their heads. “Looks as if they’ve got horns on their beaks.”
“Didn’t you read the sign?” Ben teased. “They’re rhinoceros birds. What a fantastic place this is.” “Yasmin and I are trying to make this a perfect haven for the animals,” said Mat. “The rainforest might be shrinking, but this bit’s not going to.”
There was a loud rustling of leaves and suddenly two orang-utans burst into view, swinging after each other across the interwoven branches.
“Your first glimpse of orang-utans in the wild,” Mat told them. “That’s Lola and Kiki. They’re mother and daughter. They’ll come and say hello in a minute.”
The two apes suddenly stopped their play as they spotted the humans. With a terrified shriek they turned and disappeared amongst the dense trees.
“Did we scare them away?” asked Zoe, disappointed.
“I don’t think so,” said Mat frowning. “But I’m surprised they left so quickly. They’re usually very friendly. They even sat with us and tried out our tools when we were building the walkways.” He stopped and looked around. The children could see the concern on his face.
“Come to think of it, it’s been quieter than usual today. We’ve been through several territories and only seen Lola and Kiki.” He led them round a platform, down a ladder and on to a lower walkway. “We’re just coming into Kawan’s old patch now.”
Ben gave Zoe a thumbs up. Maybe they’d learn something useful here.
The walkway took them alongside a wide, muddy coloured river.
“This is the Munia River,” Mat told them.
“Those are oil palms growing on the other side, aren’t they?” asked Zoe, recognising the straight rows of low-growing trees. They looked very different from the natural tangle of the high rainforest.
“That’s Mr Ostrander’s land,” said Mat. “We’re right in the south-eastern corner of the reservation now.”
He led them on to a wide platform hung from a thick-trunked tree. A metal sign reading “Platform Twenty-two” was fixed to the trunk above a map of the walkways. The children looked at the view. The river wound its way into the distance, separating the palm trees from a wide swathe of flat land, where small plants in metal drums were growing at regular intervals.
“New oil palms,” Mat explained. “That’s where Daud spotted Kawan. I’ve tried calling him from here, but I’m not sure the sound travels that far.”
“I hope he comes back soon,” said Zoe.
“I’d love you to meet Kawan,” said Mat. “He’s such a character, and a great imitator. He used to fill up pans with rice and beans and stir them with a spoon. Copying Yasmin cooking, you see. It might be no use, but I have to try calling him again.”
He pursed his lips together and made the call the children had heard on the film.
Ben and Zoe walked round to the opposite side of the platform. From here they could see a bald area of tree stumps. It looked like an ugly gash in the middle of the dense rainforest.
“Those evil loggers,” said Zoe, looking at the devastation. “I’m glad they were chased off before they did any more damage. Poor Kawan, he must have been so frightened by them.”
“I wish I could play my recording,” whispered Ben. “At full volume it would reach those oil palms and beyond. If Kawan is there, he’ll hear it.”
Mat stopped calling for Kawan and came to join them.
“No luck, I’m afraid,” he said. He pointed to the damaged area. “Kawan always nests – or rather, nested – around there. Don’t worry, he doesn’t think he’s a bird!” Mat grinned. “Orang-utans make themselves a different bed every night up in the tree canopy. They even use big leaves as duvets!”
Ben nodded. “I’ve read about that,” he said.
“Sometimes they hold them as sunshades,” Mat went on, “and –” He was interrupted by a shrill beeping from his shirt pocket. “Sorry about this,” he said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. “It must be Yasmin back at the centre.”
He turned away from the children, speaking rapidly in Malay.
“Something’s wrong…” They heard Yasmin’s reply translated through their earpieces. “…more cancellations. The Coopers.”
“They were due next week, weren’t they?” said Mat.
His walkie-talkie buzzed and Yasmin spoke again. “…lucky they emailed to find out when they could rebook… don’t understand…cancellations have been sent out to our guests…How could that happen?”
“I’ll come straight back,” said Mat into the walkie-talkie. “We’ll phone everyone and reinstate their bookings. Then we’ll look into it. Probably something to do with that old dinosaur of a computer.”
He ended the transmission and turned to Ben and Zoe. “Sorry,” he said, in English. “We have to return now. Just a little problem with our guest bookings.
We’ll come again tomorrow morning.” He turned and headed back along the walkway towards the reservation.
“We’ll follow in a second,” Ben called after him. “I’ve just spotted a broadbill – must get a picture.” He pulled Zoe to a halt. “We haven’t had a chance to play the recording,” he muttered, as he aimed his camera at the bird.
“Then we come back tonight,” said Zoe. “On our own.”
CHAPTER
FIVE
Zoe crept over the bare wooden floor of their bedroom and nudged her brother through his mosquito net.
“Wake up,” she whispered. “We’ve got two hours until sunrise.”
Ben opened his eyes and sat bolt upright in the dark. “Let’s go.”
They dressed quickly and put on their backpacks. They’d filled them the night before with water, their first aid kit and BUGs. Having put on their EEL belts and boots, they snatched up their night goggles.
Zoe slowly opened the door.
“Shhhh!” hissed Ben as the hinges groaned.
“Lucky there are no stairs,” muttered Zoe. “It’s bad enough in this creaky wooden corridor.”
They stepped outside into the silent, shadowy compound. As soon as they put on their goggles the scene was bathed in green light. Deep puddles lay on the ground and they could hear water dripping from the trees.
“Looks like we’ve just missed a shower,” whispered Ben.
Zoe turned a dial on the nosepiece to adjust the focus. “We’ll follow the satellite map on the BUGs.”
They crept for the cover of the trees.
“The black zigzag lines are the walkways,” said Ben, studying the image on his BUG screen. “And there’s Kawan’s territory, where the walkways come to the river.”
“There must be a more direct path than that,” replied Zoe.
Ben pressed a button and a different map appeared, showing a narrow track that went right to the south-east edge of the reservation. “This’ll take us there.”
“Tuck your trousers into your boots,” Zoe reminded him. “There’ll be snakes.”
“And arthropods and invertebrates,” said Ben eagerly.
“Creepy-crawlies in other wo
rds.” Zoe grimaced.
“Watch out for the ten-centimetre-long cockroaches!” Ben teased, but Zoe refused to rise to the bait.
“Scent dispersers on, too,” she said. “That will help keep unwanted guests away.”
The rough path led between huge, thick tree trunks deep into the darkness of the rainforest. The children moved along as quietly as they could, listening intently to the sounds around them.
Suddenly there was a loud whoo-aa call and a long, skinny shape swung down in front of them. It peered at them intently from under a pair of thick eyebrows. The children stopped dead, hearts beating fast. Then the creature gave a cry and shot back up into the trees.
“It was a gibbon!” whispered Zoe, checking the analysis on her BUG. “Wonder what it made of our goggled faces!”
“What’s that?” gasped Ben, pointing into the darkness. “Around that trunk. It looks like a huge snake!”
“It’s not moving.” Zoe laughed. “It’s just a root that’s twisted round the tree.”
They pushed their way through a bank of thick fern leaves that hung across the path.
“I can hear the river,” said Ben. “We must nearly be in Kawan’s territory. The walkways ought to be above us now.”
“There’s a sign on that trunk,” said Zoe pointing. “Platform Twenty-two – that’s where we were earlier. We’ve arrived.”
Something moved low on the ground ahead. Through their goggles they got a glimpse of cold reptilian eyes and a scaly snout edging towards them.
“Crocodile!” gasped Ben, pulling Zoe back. “We have to get off the ground – now!”
“But how?” Zoe looked round wildly.
“There’ll be a ladder up to the platform.” Ben stumbled through the ferns to reach the numbered trunk. Zoe was close on his heels. Behind her the ferns swayed and flattened as the crocodile followed.
Ben leapt up the first rungs of the wooden ladder. He reached down and grabbed Zoe’s hand, hauling her up to safety just as the crocodile launched itself at the base of the tree, snapping at the empty air beneath her feet.