Raja bared his sharp teeth at Budi. “I am not afraid!” he snapped. “I am the king of the jungle. I have nothing to fear here. The jungle is mine. It is where we are all safe.”
Budi heard rustling behind him and lifted his head. Many animals had gathered together. Elephants, rhinos, monkeys, all white as ghosts from the ash, and panting with exhaustion. All looking to Raja for an answer.
“I’m not sure the rain forest is safe for us anymore, Raja,” Budi said quietly. “Come out and lead the animals. You are their king. They will follow you anywhere. We might not be safe around the humans alone, but together, they wouldn’t dare hurt us. We can protect one another.”
Raja laughed bitterly, then shook his head. “What is a king of the rain forest if he has no jungle? No home?”
“You are my friend,” Budi replied gently. “Come with us.”
Raja had started to shake his head again when another huge explosion cracked through the air. The animals, who were already on edge, panicked and fought one another to find somewhere to hide, but there was nowhere to go and no leader to follow.
“Raja, please!” Budi shouted over the chaos.
Raja looked at the ground, refusing to meet Budi’s glare. Then, before Budi could think of the words that might convince him, Raja leaped from his hiding place and disappeared into the jungle, leaving nothing but a whirling dust cloud in his wake. Some of the other tigers, including Surya, chased after Raja, seemingly wanting to take their chances and stay in the jungle with him, but the others, like Budi, knew it was time to leave.
Budi stared after them for a while, torn between his heart—wanting to go after his friend and try to make him change his mind—and his head—needing to protect the animals who also wanted to leave. They needed an animal who could take charge, and if Raja was unprepared to be that animal, then Budi would be brave and take his place.
“We’ve waited too long already,” Budi told Dewi as the earth shook with the aftershocks of another explosion. “Spread the word as quickly as you can. We are leaving the jungle.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Melati
August 26, 1883
Sunda Strait
Large callused hands gently drew around Melati as she felt herself being lifted from the hard wooden floor she had crashed onto. Her head pounded, and she struggled to get her bearings as the world seemed to move in no particular pattern. She flapped her wings in a panic, afraid for a moment that Isaak had captured her again. But then a wave of water reared over the side of the boat, splashing her in the face and bringing her back to the present. She was on a steamer in the middle of the Sunda Strait.
The human carrying her gently stroked her head, calming her racing heart. He held her closely to his chest, stumbling as he lost his footing when the ship banked to one side. There was another spray of water, and this time Melati accidentally swallowed some. She coughed and choked on the salty water, although it slightly relieved the dryness in her throat for a moment. She felt as though she must have swallowed mouthfuls of ash and dust, and the water, as salty as it was, brought some relief.
They passed a tall pillar that belched out black steam, merging with the smoke already filling the sky from Krakatoa. Then they reached the door of a small cabin on the top deck at the front of the steamer. The man strained to haul the door open, one-handed, then shut it firmly behind him as he stepped through. Almost immediately, Melati’s senses calmed a little. It was quieter, and the air, although hot and musty and thick with the scent of human sweat, was at least clear. The man holding on to her loosened his grip a little so that she could sit up and take in her surroundings. She saw a large window at the front and one to each side, although they were so smeared with dust and ash that it was difficult to see anything out of them. The waves would rear up, briefly washing the grime away, only to be instantly replaced by more ash and soot. Just below the front window in the center of the cabin stood a large wooden wheel. Two men dressed in what looked like a uniform of a gray tunic and trousers shouted instructions at each other as they tried to hold the wheel steady.
“What have you got there, Captain?” one of the men asked Melati’s captor, noticing the colorful bird in his hands.
“Parakeet,” he answered in a gruff voice. “Found her out on deck, poor thing. Must have gotten lost trying to escape the island.”
The man who had rescued her, the captain, was taller than the other two men, with a thick black beard and mustache. His clothes were coated with grime and soaked through with sweat. He wore the same uniform as the other men with the addition of a hat on his head, and trails of sweat ran down his face.
“How is it looking?” the captain asked.
“The sea’s getting rougher, sir,” the other man, who was quite young, called out. “Shall we try to head back into Ketimbang harbor again?”
The captain shook his head. “The waves are growing by the minute. There’s no way we’d make it into harbor, and we’d be torn to pieces if we tried. We need to get as far away from Krakatoa as we can, as fast as possible. Try to outrun the waves and the debris that the volcano is throwing out. It’s our only chance.”
“Easier said than done, Captain,” the young man said as he struggled, along with the third man, to hold the large wooden wheel steady. “I’ve been in some terrible storms before, even sailed through a hurricane, but I’ve never seen the ocean act like this. One minute it’s dragging us out to sea, the next it’s throwing us back toward Sumatra. We can’t use the sails because they’ll just knock the whole boat over.”
The captain stroked Melati’s head again, looking troubled. “The eruptions from Krakatoa have disturbed the ocean,” he said. “I think it’s going to get a lot worse before the day’s end.”
Through the grimy ash-covered window, Melati watched some of the ship’s crew on deck, stamping on hot embers as they fell from the sky along with the ashes. One had a pail from which he threw water over any small fires that had ignited. Others tried to smother the flames before they had a chance to turn into something bigger. The entire steamer, men included, was covered in a thick layer of white and gray, and the crew coughed and wheezed as though it was hard to breathe. Melati knew how they felt. Inside, it was a little easier for her to breathe now, although her throat still burned and the heat was almost unbearable.
In the distance, Krakatoa roared, and loud bangs echoed around the steamer every ten minutes. Melati wished she could fly somewhere far, far away and bury herself in a nest until it was all over. But now, despite trying to save her friends from the danger, she found herself right in the middle of it. The door flew open suddenly and a man stood covered in ashes, his face red and streaked with sweat. He breathed heavily as he tried to find his voice.
“There’s something coming,” he managed to gasp out. “You have to see, Captain. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
The captain hurried after the man, taking Melati with him. She held a wing up over her face to try to shield it from the ash and the sea spray, but when she saw what the man was shouting about, she dropped her wing in horror.
There, on the horizon, racing toward them as though it had been sent from the island itself, was a huge black line. It rose above the sea level, getting higher and higher the closer it got to the steamer.
The captain yelled and ran back to the cabin, slamming the door behind him, with Melati barely managing to cling to him.
“Lash everything down!” he shouted at his men. “Yourselves included. Tell the crew and the passengers to get belowdeck and hold on for dear life. We’re going to have to ride this one out.”
The men looked terrified. “Ride what out, Captain?” one asked, his face white with fear.
The captain grabbed hold of the wooden wheel and spun it wildly to one side; then, as the steamer slowly turned, he pointed out the window as the mammoth wave bore down upon them, getting closer with Melati’s every heartbeat.
“That wave,” he said. “It’s a tsunami.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Raja
August 26, 1883
Southern Sumatran Rain Forest
Raja raced through the jungle, tripping and stumbling in the gloom. His fur caught on sharp thorns and bushes as he ran, and branches scratched at his face and body, but he didn’t care. He just needed to run, to get away from everything and everyone. Budi wanted him to lead the animals, to take charge and be the wise, courageous king that he was born to be. That he was meant to be. But he couldn’t. Budi’s faith in him was misplaced. Raja felt as terrified as a wild boar caught by a predator, knowing that whichever way it turned, tried to run, there was no escape—its fate was already sealed.
But Raja wasn’t a hapless boar. He was a Sumatran tiger, and he would fight to save himself and the other animals until his dying breath. Budi was wrong, he told himself, the jungle was a safe place. The biggest thing to fear wasn’t Krakatoa with its earth-shattering explosions, or the ash that fell from the sky and stung his eyes and choked him. It was the humans. They were what the animals needed to fear the most. Once the animals left the jungle, they were as lost as prey out in the open. The humans would take what they needed for meat and fur, and kill the rest.
Raja forced himself to run on, but his legs were weary, his head disoriented from not being able to recognize where he was. His muscles ached, and his fur was slick with sweat from the blistering heat. He eventually allowed himself to slow a little. To take a small rest before he began searching for somewhere to hide, to wait for the rumblings, tremors, and fire falling from the sky to be over; then he would find Budi and the others, and they would laugh and everything would be as it once was.
And Raja would never be afraid again.
He stopped, finally giving in to exhaustion, and slumped to the ground, wishing that there were water nearby… even a few raindrops or dew on a leaf, anything that could quench his raging thirst and quell the burning in his throat and lungs. But there was nothing but ash, wherever he looked, and it showed no sign of letting up anytime soon.
Suddenly, a movement came through the trees behind him. Raja heard it a second before it happened, but although his usual reaction was to jump to his feet and pounce on whatever stalked him, he barely even cared anymore. Besides, the only animal foolish enough to try to sneak up on him like this was Budi, and Raja wasn’t in the mood for another one of his lectures.
Raja sighed and forced himself to stand, even though his legs were shaking and he could barely hold his head up. Still, he did so with what little energy he had left because he was, after all, king of the jungle.
“Leave me alone, Budi!” Raja growled, waiting for his friend to come and try to persuade him to change his mind again. But it wasn’t Budi. It was one of his tigers.
“Raja!”
Raja’s heart leaped into his throat. “Surya!” he cried, panic rising in his chest. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave with the others?”
“I couldn’t leave you here,” Surya replied. She looked as exhausted as Raja felt, and a pang of guilt spread through his stomach. She was only here for him. She might have been safe with Budi, but her loyalty to the king had made her choose a different path. The wrong path, Raja realized with horror.
“I’m not alone,” Surya continued. “We tigers are solitary creatures, as you know. But you are also our king. Where you go, we follow. If you believe that we are safe here, then we trust you.”
She moved aside as more and more tigers came forward. Each as bedraggled and filthy and covered in ash as the last. Even Arif and Intan, his rivals, who were always plotting a way to get the better of Raja and remove him from his position as head of the jungle, had come. And between them stood five small tiger cubs who were no more than a few months old.
“No!” Raja cried out, the full realization sinking in of what his selfish choice had done. The fear he had felt for himself was nothing compared to the fear he felt now, seeing the tigers walk right into danger because he was too scared of humans.
“You shouldn’t have followed me!” he roared. “You need to go, now! All of you. Find Budi and the others and leave the jungle.”
Surya stepped forward, confused. “But… the jungle is safe. You said so yourself. Why would you stay here if it weren’t?”
“Because he is a coward!” Arif growled. “Raja cares nothing for us or any other animal in the jungle. He cares only for himself. He wouldn’t even listen to that overgrown rhino Budi. I knew we shouldn’t have stayed.”
Surya spun around, her teeth bared, ready to challenge Arif, but Raja moved in front of her, his head bowed.
“Arif is right,” Raja told them. “I was afraid. Afraid of the mountain, afraid of the humans, afraid of what might happen. I was thinking only of myself, not the rest of you. Budi tried to make me see that, but I didn’t listen, and now I have put you all in terrible danger.”
As if hearing his words, the mountain roared once more. Loud pattering noises sounded all around, but instead of cooling rain, stones fell. Hot stones, many still glowing and pulsing orange with an intense heat that Raja had felt only once before. He glanced down at the puckered scar slashed across his body, remembering the searing pain when a human had attacked him with his flaming torch.
“Fire!” Raja shouted. “We must leave the jungle at once.” He looked to Arif and Intan. “Lead the way,” he ordered. “I will follow to make sure none are left behind.”
The two tigers held Raja’s gaze for a moment, then nodded, turning quickly to usher the others along with them, trying to find a path through the trees. The tigers ran, faster than they had ever run before, like a herd of elephants being chased. All around them the hot stones from Krakatoa continued to fall, igniting small fires here and there among the dry leaves on the jungle floor.
The fires quickly spread, jumping from leaf to leaf, then from stick to branch, rampaging up the tree trunks and engulfing them until Raja could see nothing ahead or behind but fire. It crackled and danced as though mocking him, telling him to stay where he was, to give up. But something inside made him continue on. The tigers needed him. Budi needed him. No matter what happened to his jungle, while Raja still had breath in his body he would fight and keep the animals safe.
Finally, as the trees thinned, the fires died down. Raja emerged onto a muddy track that led into the humans’ village. He moved slowly at first, cautiously checking to see if any danger was close by. But the path was deserted. He nodded to Arif and Intan to continue up the hill. There were tracks here in the mud—it looked as though it had been churned up by a thousand feet, which, Raja supposed, it had been, by the animals.
“The others went this way,” he called out. “Follow the tracks; we should be able to catch up with them.”
The tigers began following the tracks up the steep hill while Raja kept watch.
“Raja!” Surya called out. “You need to see this.”
Raja ran along the path a little way to where Surya was waiting. “Look,” she said, gesturing to the ground with a paw.
Raja recognized the large footprints that had made deep indentations in the ground. He knew them as well as his own. “Budi,” he said. “Why did he go in this direction if the others went up the hill?”
The footprints continued, winding away from the hill and down toward the human village.
“Surya,” Raja said, “I need to find Budi. You go ahead with the others, and I will meet up with you.”
Surya tried to protest, but Raja barely heard her as, with a sudden renewed energy, he sprinted in the direction of the footprints, not stopping until he had reached the edge of the village.
He paused at the top of the hill leading down into the village. He could see nothing but chaos, and he realized that he had been foolish to worry about any threat from the humans. They were as terrified as the animals, perhaps even more so. Men and women were screaming and running, carrying baskets and small children and whatever else they could manage. Behind the village, a steady
stream of humans had begun making their way up the imposing mountain.
Raja narrowed his eyes. “But why?” he asked out loud. “There is no fire in the village.”
He gazed out across the ocean. Through the gloom, Raja could just make out the island, only because it emitted an eerie orange glow. The water was choppy, and the tide had come in much farther than usual, Raja guessed, because it had flooded several houses close to the shore.
“Where are you, Budi?” Raja said, scanning the village. But with the sky dark and the air thick with dust and ash, he knew he would never find Budi from his vantage point, as large as the rhino was.
“Time to face your fears, Raja,” he told himself, and he headed into the village toward the humans.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Melati
August 26, 1883
Sunda Strait
Melati had never heard that word before, tsunami, but she could see well enough to know what it meant, and it sent a shock wave of terror through her very core. She flew from the captain’s hand onto the inner ledge of the window as waves lashed against the steamer. In the distance, the gap between the boat and the wave grew rapidly narrower. It was high enough that Melati could no longer see Krakatoa island beyond it, or the smoke the mountains emitted. Nothing seemed to slow it down. Melati had fleetingly hoped that as it moved away from the island, it might slow, eventually petering out so that by the time it reached the steamer it would be nothing more than a large wave butting against the ship’s sides.
Unfortunately, the opposite was true. The massive wall of water gained speed as it moved. The closer it came, the faster and higher the wave grew. An enormous mass of water, churning and thundering toward them. Melati’s breath caught in her throat. What would happen when it finally reached them?
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