When The Jaguar Sleeps: A jungle adventure Read Free

Have you seen any of them? Are they still alive?’
    ‘What others? Sorry, but I cannot remember anything at all. I do not even know who you are or how I got here. My head is bursting with pain,’ complained Didier.
    ‘I can’t believe it. You were sitting next to me on the plane, we talked. Look, it’s me, Florent. Don’t you really recognise me?’
    ‘Florent? No, no . . . nothing,’ he began uncertainly staring intensely at the young man in front of him.
    ‘You must have hit your head badly because you’re bleeding from your forehead.’
    ‘I know and that’s what must have caused the memory loss but I can’t. . .’ His eyes narrowed suddenly and his mouth twisted in a grimace of pain.
    ‘We were flying together with a guide and a Swiss couple, going for a short trip to the Amazon jungle.’ Florent explained right away, not even waiting for him to finish the sentence. ‘The plane crashed. I don’t know if anyone else survived. Maybe they are nearby and need help. We shouldn’t waste time but start looking for them immediately.’ He spoke with impatience in his voice.
    They did not hurry, however, to start the search because deep down they were both afraid of what they might find. And so they lingered for a while, as if unable to decide where to begin.
    Eventually Didier gathered what was left of his strength, rolled over, and stood slowly up, first planting both feet firmly on the ground, then raising his body and holding it erect. Hesitantly, still feeling unsteady, he approached the hanging wall of lush greenery. Florent followed close behind. They walked a few yards and then stopped and observed their surroundings. Up close they began to distinguish more and more individual elements in the green forest tangle. Omnipresent strangler creepers clung to most of the tree trunks and branches, wrapping themselves tightly around them, climbing to the top of the canopy. Sometimes there were only a few small dark patches of bark visible, so dense was the ropey web of lianas.
    A few steps further they noticed something bulky lying behind a bent tree stem, embedded in a thick tangle of vines and roots. Straining their eyes, they made out the outline of someone’s motionless body.
    Florent approached it first, limping awkwardly on his injured leg. By the time he reached it he had already realised who the person was. It was Anna. He leaned over and listened for a moment, trying to detect any breath. She looked very pale and her blouse was soaked with blood.
    ‘She’s alive but she’s got a weak pulse and her breath is shallow,’ he said whispering, as if he were afraid a louder voice might hurt her.
    Meanwhile Didier had cautiously approached the shattered wreck of the plane and looked inside. Aircraft debris and backpacks littered the interior, some of them ripped open, their contents spilling out all over the place. At the very back lay a bloodied man’s body squeezed unnaturally in a small gap between two seats. He did not move but a few weak moans escaped from his bloodless lips. His eyes were half open in a fixed stare.
    ‘Can you help me, Florent? I’ve found someone, but we have to get him out of here as soon as possible. I can’t manage it alone.’
    Together they managed to loosen the seats and free the inert body trapped in between. It was Sandro. At first glance, it was difficult to assess what was wrong. When they tried to lift him, Sandro writhed in pain and his moans intensified. As soon as Florent took hold of his right leg he noticed that it was somehow unnaturally bent. He put it down immediately and gently ripped off the trouser. The leg underneath it looked broken. It was livid and swollen, with a gaping bloody wound in the spot where the fractured bone pierced the skin. Florent found a straight wooden stick and tied it against the broken limb, using some pieces of fabric from his torn shirt. It was impossible to say yet what other internal injuries Sandro might have.
    ‘Do you think we