More hours passed as they sought out the entrance to the smaller tributary his ancestor had called a river of paradise. But the secret opening remained invisible to them.
While they searched, Ben continued to refuse requests to take a break on the bank, hoping that they’d soon come to a more open area or at least a rocky outcrop they could perch upon. Only Jenny agreed with him, as she also knew that the Amazon was a haven for parasites that loved to hitch a ride on their food source.
Burrowing up from out of the soil, from the water, and zooming in from the air, revolting things like the botfly injected the skin with their eggs that hatch into carnivorous grubs that feed on the flesh until they burst free as a fully grown fly, ready to mate, bite, and implant their young into a host, beginning the cycle all over again. But there were worse things that caused permanent damage, such as elephantiasis, where the filarial parasites are transmitted to humans through mosquito bites, causing the limbs or features to swell hideously to gigantic proportions.
There were also flesh-hungry nematodes in the soil that infested internal organs, eyes, and even the brain. All sought out the human body and its flesh and blood as food, as an incubator for their young, or simply as a mobile house.
The canoes bunched up, forming a raft and allowing them all to talk quietly to each other. Nino grimaced. “I have never been this far, and I have never heard of any hidden rivers.”
“What about the Pemon?” Ben asked.
“If they know, they’re not saying,” Jenny said.
“Yeah, we kinda expected that,” Emma added.
“It’s got to be here,” Dan said. “I just feel it.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Steve grinned.
“We push on,” Ben said, nodding to Ataca.
They travelled on all day, and Ben’s GPS told him that they were somewhere about 52 miles from where they had departed. The jungle had closed in again, and the rods of light that filtered down to them were turning to a muted twilight, indicating they were coming to the end of the day.
The last thing Ben wanted was to be travelling in the darkness, or worse, be forced up onto some damp riverbank.
They glided on in silence for another 30 minutes before Emma straightened and pointed her flashlight.
“There!” she shouted.
A huge boulder sat half submerged at the water line, and by the edge of the first rocky outcrop they’d seen for dozens of miles.
“That’s it, gotta be.” Ben grinned.
Beside the huge rock, the rotted stump of tree poked out half a dozen feet. It was a good four feet round and would have been enormously distinctive when it was alive, perhaps a hundred years ago. It could well be the tree trunk his great, great grandfather had remarked upon in his notebook, Ben thought.
“We’ll camp for the night on the rocks.” Ben turned. “Ataca.” He pointed to the shoreline where there were rounded slabs leading into the water.
“Where’s the secret river?” Emma asked.
“Good question.” Ben craned forward but saw nothing, just a line of rushes between some of the thicker tree trunks, ferns, and bushes. He held up a hand and Ataca dug his paddle in to slow the boat. Ben then saw that the rushes actually bobbed and bent gently towards them. He smiled — there was a water flow coming from behind them.
He pointed again and waved them on. Ataca nodded and paddled deeper on one side of the canoe, steering them to where Ben indicated.
As they passed the huge boulder, Ben looked up at its surface — the carving was there, a huge leering face, faint and though heavily time eroded, still unmistakable.
Behind him, he heard Ataca mumbling and holding onto the amulet that hung around his neck as the boat glided up onto the shore and ground up on the rocks for a moment.
Ben stepped out. He held onto the edge of the canoe and pulled it further up on shore a few feet as he looked from the Pemon to the rock face and back again.
Ataca refused to look at it, but he knew Jenny had been right; superstition ran strong in the Pemon, and this meant something to them. Ben looked back at the carved face. Now that he was up closer, it wasn’t human at all, but something with fangs, a scaled face, and slit-pupil eyes.
“Rope,” Ben said, holding out his hand.
Emma handed him a length of rope which he tied to the front of the canoe, and then while he was on the bank, dragged the canoe along the rocky edge until he came to the reed barrier, where he tugged it through — he was right — just behind it there was a small hidden river.
Ben straightened. “We’ll camp here tonight.”
The night was uneventful, and another lathering of repellent plus a healthy fire kept insects, predators, and anything else interested in making a home or meal of them at bay.
Just before they’d turned in, Ben did a quick wide circuit of their camp, looking for anything that might have been a threat to the group. He was as satisfied as he could be, but knew he’d be sleeping light tonight.
Emma had joined him and above them in an opening of the tree canopy, they saw the clouds open momentarily, displaying a dark sky speckled with stars… and something else.
“What is that?” Emma asked, frowning.
Ben quickly pulled out his binoculars and pointed them up at the streak. “Weird; looks sorta like a streak of light.”
“Meteor?” she asked.
“Maybe, but it’s just hanging there.” He lowered the glasses. “It’s right over us. Well, more sort of to the right hemisphere.”
As they watched, the clouds closed over them and the streak of light vanished. Emma put her arm around his waist and they continued to watch for it for a few more minutes before Ben hugged her.
“This whole place is another world,” Emma said softly.
“You got that right.” He kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s turn in; going to be a big day tomorrow.”
Dawn found them quickly preparing to embark on the next stage of their journey.
“Ben.” Steve waved him closer to a place near a tree trunk.
“I was taking a leak and saw this.” He pointed at the ground. There was the usual mat of leaf litter, but in an area where the leaves and debris had been kicked aside was the toe print from a large boot.
Ben grunted. “The Pemon don’t wear shoes… or have feet that damn big. I’m thinking the guys who took our map are ahead of us.” He squatted and touched the soft soil. “Maybe less than half a day.”
“Do you think they came by water?” Steve turned back and then craned to try and see further out into the jungle. “And went the same way?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But we better make sure everyone keeps their eyes peeled.”
Steve nodded and went to turn away, but Ben reached out to grab his arm.
“And tell ‘em to keep all noise to a minimum from now on.”
“You got it.” Steve headed back to the group.
Ben turned slowly, peering off into the jungle. The smaller river they were going to now enter was already catching some rays of morning light, and it meant that the tree canopy was opening slightly. It was still largely hidden from above, but the type of trees here were of a different variety with thinner canopies. Thank God, he thought.
By the time they’d packed up and were ready to go, the sun was a little higher, and they could all now see what was before them.
“Oh my God.” Emma put a hand on his shoulder.
Andrea walked forward, her arms out, and turned in a circle. The river here was shallow, of no more than a few feet, as well as being crystal clear. Where the river they had come from was dark coffee, this looked mountain-stream pure.