Return to the Jungle

by Bear Grylls

  On Mak’s last adventure, he’d experienced a run-in with poachers, though, so he had first-hand knowledge about how ruthless such men could be.

  They needed to find out if it was either their parents, loggers or Buldeo himself.

  ‘You can wait here for me to find out, Diya. It won’t take me long.’

  Diya frowned as he began walking away. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I can move quicker on my own,’ said Mak. ‘At the pace we’ve been walking, I reckon they’re only about an hour behind us. They must have set off at dawn to catch up with us. Besides, you need to look after Hathi. I promise I won’t be long.’

  ‘Makur! Little Wolf!’ Diya called after him. ‘You’ve forgotten your shoes!’ But he’d already disappeared into the thick undergrowth. She shook her head. ‘I’m sure that boy is half monkey . . .’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The whipping branches were close enough to take Mak’s ear off. But, with his head bowed, he didn’t flinch as he powered through the thick forest.

  Running barefoot was painful at first. The hardened callouses that he’d developed last time in the jungle had softened in the weeks after his return to civilization. However, he soon forgot the discomfort and ache in his legs as he leaped over roots and bounced across moss-covered rocks. He was loving every moment of it too much to care about the pain.

  Doubling back the way they’d come, Mak kept close to the river, memorizing each bend so he knew just when to break away towards the smoke.

  The last thing he wanted to do was run straight into a wolf or leopard, so he made no effort to mask the sound of his movement, knowing that it would frighten off any potential wild threat lurking ahead.

  Only when he reached a specific bend in the river, with a steep, high bank on one side, did Mak start to disguise the sounds of his progress.

  He’d noticed the steep drop-off into the river from his viewpoint at the top of the tree he’d climbed.

  He was getting close.

  Mak stopped to catch his breath. He was just able to smell the distinctive odour of smoke now through the jungle, betraying the campsite.

  Mak crouched low and edged through the foliage with stealth, making as little noise as possible. He wondered if it really could be his parents, so angry that he’d disappeared again that they’d braved the jungle to find him and bring him home, kicking and screaming.

  Would they think saving Hathi was a good enough reason not to punish him? After all, how different was that from what Diya’s father was doing? Saving Hathi was simply extreme conservation.

  His heart hammered in his chest as he became aware of indistinct voices ahead. He realized he was suddenly more afraid of his parents sending him back home and forbidding him from ever coming back to India than he was of bumping into a party of bloodthirsty poachers. He’d beaten poachers before. He never won any argument with his parents.

  The smell of the campfire caught his nostrils and Mak shot a hand across his stomach as it grumbled loudly.

  That would be a stupid way to get caught, he thought to himself.

  Dropping to all fours, Mak crawled forward, keeping his head low and his body just above the detritus on the floor. He headed for cover behind a broad tree and peeked through a bush.

  Ahead was Mak’s worst nightmare.

  It was Buldeo and his two henchmen sitting round a campfire talking quietly.

  Mak’s heart fell. As soon as he saw their guns, he changed his mind about his parents. They were tough, for sure, but however angry they might be they wouldn’t try to kill him. Buldeo, he wasn’t so sure about. He felt a sharp stab of fear in the pit of his stomach.

  The three men were just finishing off eating a bird they’d cooked over the fire.

  ‘This stupid elephant better be worth it,’ growled Lalu, who was already wiping his greasy fingers on his trousers and gathering his gear together.

  Buldeo spat a bone into the fire. ‘You’d rather head back to the city and get a labouring job? Work on a construction site again? Not me. Not again. That elephant is the key to my fortune.’

  ‘Our fortune,’ said Girish.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ snapped Buldeo.

  Lalu then stood and started circling the clearing. Three tents had been set up, and the men’s backpacks hung from a tree at head height to keep them safe from insects and scavenging animals on the ground.

  Mak noticed that Lalu’s eyes were fixed to the ground, searching for something. He moved in a slow arc, drawing nearer to Mak’s hiding place.

  Closer . . .

  Mak held his breath as Lalu walked slowly towards him, stopping just a couple of metres away. He knelt down, using his rifle for support. Mak could see the pockmarks in the man’s skin and his chipped and crooked yellowing teeth. Lalu slowly raised his head and looked straight in Mak’s direction.

  Every muscle in Mak’s body tensed as he prepared to run . . .

  ‘Hey!’ Lalu said. ‘I’ve got something.’

  Mak had no doubt he could outrun the men, but their guns . . . that was another matter. It seemed as if Lalu was looking straight at him, but the man didn’t make any move to grab him.

  ‘I found the trail again. The elephant trampled through the mud here. The tracks aren’t old. Maybe half a day, if that. Could even be just a few hours. It’s difficult to be precise.’

  Mak gently released the breath he had been holding. Lalu obviously couldn’t see him hidden in the dense undergrowth, and he was further camouflaged by the low light under the canopy.

  ‘Do we stand a chance of getting him tonight before he makes it back to his herd?’ Buldeo asked.

  Lalu ignored the question. ‘There’s something else here,’ he replied.

  From his position, Mak could see Lalu run a finger through the mud. He was tracing the outline of a very distinctive human footprint.

  Lalu slowly pulled his rifle level as he turned back to Buldeo. ‘We’ve got more human ones again, boss. Clearer this time.’ He paused and looked around. ‘Our elephant definitely didn’t escape. He was stolen.’

  Lalu stood up and menacingly chambered a round in his rifle.

  The mission had just changed . . .

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Mak’s blood ran cold. He was convinced Lalu was going to lunge for him. Instead, the man hawked and spat in the ground before returning to the camp.

  Still on all fours, Mak slowly retreated towards the water, his mind racing.

  The men now knew about Mak and Diya. It wasn’t as if they had been making any attempt to hide their tracks, so they would be easy to follow. Not only that, three men on foot would move quicker than he and Diya leading an elephant.

  He had to find a way to stall them.

  His hand slipped into his pocket and he felt the reassuring hilt of his penknife. He looked around for inspiration . . . How could he slow them down with just a few trees and a river? It was impossible.

  Impossible . . . It was a word he knew well. People called his magic illusions impossible. He’d heard his survival alone in the jungle had been impossible. And yet . . .

  Mak smiled as a plan slowly began to form in his head.

  Aware that Buldeo and his men were still close, he crawled towards a willow drooping over the river a little further downstream. Its branches were laden with thick vines that were slowly suffocating the tree, and trailing a good ten metres in length.

  Shimmying up the curved trunk, Mak opened his penknife and began hacking at the vine. Even the razor-sharp blade had trouble cutting through the fibres, but he managed to furiously saw through a dozen of them. They fell, coiling in the sand below.

  He jumped down and gathered the vines over his shoulder. Already he was sweating from the effort, his shirt sticking to him. But he had no time to lose – he had to enact his plan before Buldeo dismantled the camp.

  Mak carefully moved back upstream next to the camp. He then knelt on the raised riverbank and peered over the edge. It was a good twenty-met
re drop down to the water below.

  He carefully knotted the vines together to make a single long rope. As he did so, he caught sight of movement in the river as a huge crocodile broke the surface, its head almost as big as Mak’s body.

  He remembered reading somewhere that to estimate the size of a croc, you multiply the length of the head by seven. He imagined the length of the animal stretching underwater. It was enormous.

  Big enough to eat him whole.

  Or Buldeo.

  Mak then fastened the end of the long vine around a small boulder he had spotted near the top of the bank. It was roughly the size of a big football.

  Now came the dangerous part.

  Walking as softly as he could, Mak sneaked back into the forest and began crawling towards the trackers’ camp, gently uncoiling the rope behind him, making sure it didn’t get tangled or wedged.

  The three men were still talking loudly, but it was clear they were getting ready to leave.

  Mak lay flat in the dirt and edged as close as he could, hidden from view by the tents. He then knotted the rope round two of the tent pegs before he reached the men’s hanging backpacks. He deftly ran the rope through their straps before securing the very end to the third tent.

  But just then . . . SNAP! A dry twig under his foot sounded as loud as a firecracker in the jungle. Buldeo, Lalu and Girish all spun round to face Mak – who, as luck would have it, was hidden from view behind a tree.

  ‘What was that?’ Buldeo grunted.

  Mak froze. If he made a move, he’d be spotted. He couldn’t see the men, but clearly heard the cold metallic click of Lalu’s hunting rifle as they stood up.

  The muffled clump of footsteps slowly approached . . .

  Just as they were about to reach Mak’s hiding place, there was the loudest squeal as a small Moupin pig burst from the undergrowth just in front of the men and charged across the campsite. There was a holler of surprise from the three men as the animal sprinted past them.

  Mak peeked from behind the tree. The men had all spun round to follow the pig. Lalu already had his gun raised, aiming at his fast-moving target.

  Mak sprinted for cover into the forest as the first gunshot rang out.

  He reached the riverbank in seconds, and was relieved to hear the squealing pig was still alive and well as it vanished into the jungle. The sound of laughter from the men soon followed.

  ‘You won’t be laughing in a second,’ Mak muttered as he took position next to the boulder he’d tied the rope to.

  Bracing his back against a tree, he pushed with all his might. The rock began to roll across the earth. Another push, his leg muscles aching in protest – then the boulder toppled and started to roll down, eventually dropping off the edge of the steep-sided bank.

  The boulder yanked the rope taut.

  Mak hopped aside as the vine rushed between his feet. Back in camp, the vine had ripped the tents violently from the ground. Mak noted the distinct clank of equipment as their backpacks were also torn from the tree.

  He dived for cover as he heard the rock splash down into the river – startling the crocodile, which powered across the water, leaving a mighty wake behind it.

  Moments later, the tents and backpacks came rushing through the trees and over the edge – before splashing into the river below.

  Mak crouched low in the bushes and tried to make himself as small as he could. And watched.

  Within seconds, the three men burst out of the trees, swearing as their gear either sank into the murky depths or got taken rapidly downstream.

  Girish dived from the steep bank and into the water without a thought.

  Buldeo spotted the crocodile immediately. ‘Girish, you fool! Get out!’

  The huge reptile arced in the water and raced towards him like a torpedo. Mak felt a surge of panic. All he’d wanted to do was delay the men, not get them killed.

  Girish was a strong swimmer and quickly turned round and clambered up the bank, gasping for breath. Buldeo and Lalu ran to help him – just as the crocodile burst from the water in a colossal explosion of water.

  The three men howled in terror and fled in separate directions back into the trees.

  The enormous crocodile pursued Girish for a few metres up the bank before giving up and circling back to the water.

  The last thing Mak saw before he melted into the jungle was the crocodile’s jaws chomping down on the one remaining backpack, floating in the river. And then the croc began violently shredding it to bits.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It was Hathi who sensed somebody was approaching long before Diya heard the gentle rustle of branches. Mak jogged into the clearing feeling exhausted but thrilled. He’d been able to follow Hathi’s path back to Diya, grinning all the way about his trap having worked so well.

  He’d paused several times in an attempt to conceal their previous tracks, hoping that Lalu would be thrown off their scent once he recovered from the crocodile incident, but he wasn’t so sure how effective his efforts had been. He quickly filled Diya in on what he’d seen and done.

  ‘Do you think they’ll continue following us, even without their equipment?’ she asked with concern.

  That had been weighing on Mak’s mind during his trek back.

  ‘I think Buldeo is desperate enough. We may have gained several hours’ head start, maybe even half a day.’ He patted Hathi’s flank. The little elephant gave a tiny trumpet of acknowledgement before resuming plucking leaves from a tree. ‘But, either way, this big lug is slowing us down.’ He lapsed into a thoughtful silence. ‘I thought we’d be much quicker than this.’

  ‘If we knew exactly where the herd is, perhaps we could find a shortcut to them?’

  ‘Good idea, but the phone doesn’t work.’ Mak sighed. ‘We’ll have to stick to the plan or we’ll risk taking a wrong shortcut and carrying on right past them.’

  ‘Rice?’ Diya held up a silver bag. It was one of the vacuum-packed bags she’d kept in her trouser pockets, and one of the only bits of her gear that hadn’t been lost in the river. Mak reached over for it, his stomach rumbling.

  ‘Thanks! I’m starving.’ He opened the seal and popped his fingers inside, hoping to find some hot rice. Instead he found a phone. He slowly pulled it out and looked quizzically at Diya. ‘Very funny.’

  Diya rolled her eyes and took the phone off him. ‘Rice is super-absorbent. If you drop your phone in a puddle –’ she turned the satellite phone on, and Mak was surprised to see the display light up – ‘then the rice helps dry it out!’

  Mak took the phone and used it to playfully prod Diya in the arm. ‘If you’re not careful, I may start thinking you’re a genius!’ He pointed across the clearing. ‘The ground starts to rise in that direction. In about an hour we’ll be higher and might get a good signal.’

  He automatically turned the phone off again to save the battery.

  Diya was already walking. She glanced over her shoulder. ‘What are you waiting for, then?’

  They followed a well-worn animal trail, which gently snaked uphill for several miles. On the one hand, it meant they were making good progress, but on the other it also meant that if Buldeo was still following then he’d catch up with them quickly.

  Mak guessed they’d reached the start of the limestone hills he’d seen from the top of the tree. On the map they had been nothing more than a dense mass of black contour lines, whereas in reality they were steep hills – sheer cliffs in some cases – that rose hundreds of metres from the jungle floor.

  The dense foliage eventually fell away to one side, offering a breathtaking view across the jungle. They were well above the trees and could see a gentle blanket of grey mist closing in, blotting the treetops as it moved. It turned the sunshine hazy, almost dreamlike.

  Mak was captivated and could have stared at it for hours, but Hathi nudged him in the back to return him to the moment.

  With a nod, Mak then turned the phone on and thumbed through the onscreen options. He dia
lled his sister’s number reluctantly. A quick look at his watch showed him that they had two hours before sunset. They obviously wouldn’t be back at base camp tonight.

  His sister warily answered the phone.

  ‘Hello?’

  Mak put on a cheery carefree voice. ‘Hey, sis. It’s Mak!’

  ‘Makur! Where the heck are you guys?’ Her tone warned Mak that something was wrong. ‘You’re in big trouble!’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  For a moment Mak thought Anula knew they’d freed Hathi, but then he remembered his sister had a habit of blowing everything out of proportion, especially if she had been getting some aggravation from their parents.

  ‘Oh, we’re still near the hide, looking across at the trees,’ Mak said as casually as he could. A flock of parrots swooped noisily past, their feathers a kaleidoscope of colour as the sun reflected off their wings. ‘And there are some amazing parrots here.’

  ‘You’re still birdwatching?’ Anula asked suspiciously.

  ‘Of course. You should come and join us. It’s amazing out here.’ Mak was confident that his sister would react badly to the suggestion.

  ‘Like I’d want to do that!’

  The little victory made Mak smile. ‘We popped back to camp earlier to grab something to eat.’

  Anula paused, as if assessing just how true that was. ‘Did you see Mum and Dad?’

  ‘No. What were they doing today?’

  ‘They went with Anil to get some supplies. They were looking for you.’

  Mak could barely contain his relief, but spoke as casually as he could. ‘Oh, that explains why I couldn’t find them. Tell them we were looking for them, and we’re staying out again as Diya’s getting lots of rare sightings out here.’

  ‘Well, I think you should come back now, Makur. Otherwise I am the one who ends up in trouble.’

  ‘We will. Of course. Soon.’