Demons in the Jungle

Chapter 11

  I heard the steps first. With deer, that's almost always the first thing you hear – especially in this jungle. Otherwise, they're almost completely silent.

I shifted slightly in my makeshift tree stand – a sturdy low branch with some arranged foliage – and got my bow ready. My eyes scanned the trees, searching for movement and seeing none. I sighed, my hand relaxing on the bowstring as I turned again, searching the other direction. Somewhere out there, a tree branch shifted. I watched it, and then another beside it shifted before the steps began to come closer.

I raised the bow, getting an arrow ready and drawing it taut. My hands were steady; my left arm was healing, though not particularly well. Some sort of aloe plant I had found helped the infection go down, but it still looked pretty bad. I could probably do with serious medical attention, but the fact that it hurt so much seemed to be a good sign – no nerve damage. Regardless, I'd grown accompanied to the pain. It wasn't affecting my shooting anymore.

The deer became visible now, too far out to shoot reliably. I watched it, holding myself perfectly still as it ambled cautiously toward me. I watched and waited, controlling my breathing. I had rubbed mud all over me to mask my scent, and it seemed to be working. The deer looked like it had no idea I was here. Watching and waiting.

As I watched, a second deer broke through the trees, joining the first as the two casually searched for food. Then a third came out. That was fine. I only needed one. The others would take off – making a lot of racket as they went, and that was undesirable, but so be it. Armadillos were annoying to prepare, and the meat was nowhere near as satisfying. Tapirs were so damn loud, and I swear, they practically drew predators to them. No, today I would have deer.

As the trio came closer, I drew the arrow as tight as I could, aiming carefully at the closest, waiting for it to pause. It did, lowering its head to investigate a patch of grass. With its mouth full, it looked up to view the area around it, and I let the arrow loose.

The deer was dead before it hit the ground. As expected, the other two took off with thundering steps, crashing through the trees and dashing away. I crept down from the stand, taking a quick look around before I approached the animal and set my bow aside. I dropped to one knee and drew my kukri, giving the deer a solemn look before I went to work.

On my new bow, I had made notches indicating the number of days I had spent on the island. There were six notches now. I spent all of my time hunting and tracking, only deciding to hunt and eat something when I felt completely drained. So far, I'd killed two deer, an armadillo, wounded one tapir, killed another, snared a squirrel, and made a futile attempt to trap a Capuchin monkey. My shelters were continuing to hold up with surprising effectiveness. One night, my makeshift door had failed me and I woke up in the morning being curiously investigated by a sloth, but it wasn't particularly harmful. Another night, wolves outside had kept me awake for most of the night, though they hadn't moved in on me at any point. In fact, I had only been directly attacked once since the wolves at Charlie's camp site. Another ocelot had found me once while I was tracking Charlie through the dense jungle, jumping down at me from the trees. Luckily, I already had my bow at the ready, wounding the beast and causing it to run off into the trees. It scratched my leg, but thankfully, that morning, I had found the aloe plant. Combining it with the material of my jeans as gauze, it healed up nicely after a day. I had almost no clothes left, save for the torn jeans, now turned to shorts, and a ragged tee shirt. I didn't really need anything else, as my shelters were warm and I was able to stay mobile and cool during the day.

I skinned the deer and cut out the choice meats, starting a fire and beginning to cook them up. While I waited, I searched the nearby area and found some vegetation that would go well with it. My little trial-and-error procedure had proved fairly successful, and now I knew several plants that were safe to eat raw, and several more that were safe when cooked. What I gathered today was a set of large leaves that were sort of like rhubarb, I thought, but with an oddly sweet taste once they were boiled. It went well as an improvised lettuce wrap for the venison.