“So, let’s not tip over,” Melanie said.
“Don’t even suggest it!” Candace moaned. “You guys have to remember I’m a newcomer. You’ve been in this part of the world for years.”
“All we have to worry about are the crocs and hippos,” Kevin said. “When you see one, let me know.”
“Oh, great!” Candace complained nervously. “And just what do we do when we see one?”
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Kevin said. “I don’t think we’ll see any until we come to the lake.”
“And what then?” Candace questioned. “Maybe I should have asked about the dangers of this trip before I signed on.”
“They won’t bother us,” Kevin said. “At least that’s what I’ve been told. As long as they are in the water, all we have to do is stay a reasonable distance away. It’s when they’re caught on land that they can be unpredictably aggressive, and both crocs and hippos can run faster than you’d think.”
“All of a sudden, I’m not enjoying this at all,” Candace admitted. “I thought it was going to be fun.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a picnic,” Melanie said. “We’re not sightseeing. We’re here for a reason.”
“Let’s just hope we’re successful,” Kevin said. He could appreciate Candace’s state of mind. Kevin marveled that he’d been talked into coming himself.
Besides the insects, the dominant wildlife were the birds. They ceaselessly flitted among the branches, filling the air with melodies.
On either side of the channel the forest was impenetrably dense. Only occasionally could Kevin or the others see for more than twenty feet in any direction. Even the shoreline was invisible, hidden behind a tangle of water plants and roots.
As he paddled Kevin looked down into the inky water that was covered with a plethora of darting water spiders. The disturbance he caused with each stroke made fetid bubbles rise to the surface.
The channel soon became straighter than it had been in the marsh, making the paddling considerably easier. By observing the rate at which they floated by the passing tree trunks, Kevin estimated that they were moving at about the speed of a fast walk. At this rate, he figured they’d arrive at the Lago Hippo in ten to fifteen minutes.
“How about putting the locator on scan?” Kevin suggested to Melanie. “If you narrow the graphic to this area, we’ll know if there are any bonobos in the neighborhood.”
Melanie was huddled over the compact computer, when there was a sudden commotion in the branches to their left. A moment later, deeper into the forest, they heard twigs snapping.
Candace had a hand clasped to her chest. “Oh my,” she said. “What the hell was that?”
“I’d guess another one of those duikers,” Kevin said. “Those little antelopes are common even on these islands.”
Melanie redirected her attention to the locator. Soon she was able to report that there were no bonobos in the area.
“Of course not,” Kevin said. “That would have been too easy.”
Twenty minutes later, Candace reported that she could see a lattice of sunlight coming through the branches directly ahead.
“That must be the lake,” Kevin said.
After a few more paddle strokes, the canoe glided out into the open water of Lago Hippo. The trio blinked in the bright sunlight, then scrambled for their sunglasses.
The lake was not large. In fact, it was more like an elongated pond dotted with several lushly thicketed islands chock-a-block with white ibises. The shore was lined with dense reeds. Here and there on the surface of the lake were pure white water lilies. Patches of free-floating vegetation thick enough to allow small birds to walk across them turned lazily in slow circles, pushed by the gentle breezes.
The wall of surrounding forest dropped away on both sides to form grassy fields, some as big as an acre. A few of these fields were peppered with pockets of palm trees. To the left, above the line of the forest rim, the very top of the limestone escarpment was clearly discernable against the hazy morning sky.
“It’s actually quite beautiful,” Melanie said.
“It reminds me of paintings of prehistoric times,” Kevin said. “I could almost imagine a couple of brontosauruses in the foreground.”
“Oh my god, I see hippos over to the left!” Candace called out with alarm. She pointed with her paddle.
Kevin looked in the direction she was indicating. Sure enough, the heads and small ears of a dozen of these huge mammals were just visible in the water. Standing on their crowns were a number of white birds preening.
“They’re okay,” Kevin assured Candace. “See how they are slowly moving away from us. They won’t be any trouble.”
“I’ve never been much of a nature lover,” Candace admitted.
“You don’t have to explain,” Kevin said. He could remember clearly his unease about wildlife during his first year in Cogo.
“According to the map, there should be a trail not too far away from the left bank,” Melanie said, while studying the contour map.
“If I remember correctly, there’s a trail that goes around the whole eastern end of the lake,” Kevin said. “It originates at the bridge.”
“That’s true, but it comes closest to our left,” Melanie said.
Kevin angled the canoe toward the left shore and began looking for an opening in the reeds. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one.
“I think we’ll just have to try to paddle right through the vegetation,” Kevin said.
“I’m certainly not getting out of this boat until there’s dry land,” Melanie announced.
Kevin told Candace not to paddle as he aimed the canoe at the six-foot-high wall of reeds and took a number of forceful strokes. To everyone’s surprise, the boat skimmed through the vegetation with no trouble at all, despite the scraping noise of the reeds on the hull. Sooner than they expected, they bumped against dry land.
“That was easy,” Kevin said. He looked behind at the path they’d created to the lake, but already the reeds were springing back to their original position.
“Am I supposed to get out?” Candace said. “I can’t see the ground. What if there are bugs and snakes?”
“Make yourself a clearing with your paddle,” Kevin suggested.
As soon as Candace climbed out of the bow, Kevin paddled against the vegetation and succeeded to force the canoe still further onto the shore. Melanie got out easily.
“What about the food?” Kevin asked as he moved forward.
“Let’s leave it here,” Melanie said. “Just bring the bag with the directional beacon and flashlight. I’ve got the locator and the contour map.”
The women waited for Kevin to get out of the boat, then motioned for him to go ahead of them. With the gear bag over his shoulder, he pushed aside the reeds and began moving inland. The ground was marshy and the muck sucked at his shoes. But within ten feet, he emerged onto the grassy field.
“This looks like a field, but it’s actually a swamp,” Melanie complained as she looked down at her tennis shoes. They were already black with mud and completely soaked.
Kevin struggled with the contour map to get his bearings, then pointed off to the right. “The transmitting chip from bonobo number sixty should be no more than a hundred feet from here in the direction of that cul de sac of trees,” he said.
“Let’s get this over with,” Melanie said. With her new tennis shoes ruined, even she was beginning to question if they should have come. In Africa, nothing was easy.
Kevin struck off with the women following. At first, walking was difficult because of the unstable footing. Although the grass appeared generally uniform, it grew in small, lumpy hummocks surrounded by muddy water. But the going became easier about fifty feet from the pond, where the ground rose and became comparatively drier. A moment later, they came across a trail.
They were surprised to discover that the trail looked well-used. It ran parallel with the shoreline of the lake.
“Siegfried must send work crews out here more than we thought,” Melanie said. “This trail has been maintained.”