Chapter 9: Looking For Cannibals

The first encounter with cannibals

Suddenly we heard cooing and wailing noises nearby and froze, straining to hear more between ominous rumbles of thunder rolling over the canopy far above us, until the approaching roar of a million raindrops hitting a million leaves drowned everything out. They won’t be able to hear us coming in this, I thought as we headed carefully in the direction of the sounds heard. Despite the din of the storm we spoke in whispers and moved silently, careful not to step on twigs or snap branches. I felt like a soldier in Belize again, on a covert patrol along the Guatemalan border, and then remembered how easy it was to ambush someone in the jungle. My mind wandered back to that horrible arrow designed for men we had been shown and I shuddered.

An hour passed and as suddenly as it had started, the rain stopped. Our movement no longer completely disguised we halted to take stock of the situation. There was nothing for it but to keep going and I set off again. Behind me I heard Bruce whisper:

“Superman…senang? [Happy?]

There was no answer but I heard Bruce trying to suppress a giggle. He was loving this and, I had to admit it, so was I. The excitement was intense. In my wildest dreams I had never thought to experience such a feeling of exploration, such a thrill at the unknown. Every sense I possessed felt as highly tuned as it could possibly be. My ears picked up the slightest tremor of sound – a seed falling to the ground, a far off birdcall, the rustle of ants swarming up a nearby tree trunk. My eyes darted between the tiniest movements in the undergrowth. My nose sucked in the heady scents re-emerging at the passing of the rain.

“Ssshh!” Bruce’s urgent whisper stopped me in my tracks but I had heard it too – muffled voices up ahead, very close. We took a few steps further and realised the forest was about to give way to a clearing. Peering through the remaining trees I could just see the roof of another treehouse. My eyes dropped to scan the ground beneath it. Where were they – in the treehouse or right in front? Another muffled voice sounded. They were inside.

Was this it? Were these the Khanum Khatun? I looked at Bruce but he was slipping a new cassette into his camera. I had completely forgotten about the camera in my hands and fumbled with it for a second – battery good, cassette good.

We composed ourselves and then walked steadily into the clearing, Superman calling out the usual greeting as we covered the last few yards. The cameras were on but we were neither of us ready for what followed.

Back to Extracts