The waters were relatively calm today; a marked difference from the group’s last encounter, and progress was peacefully maintained. A full day was spent on the river, the missionaries eating as the mood took them.
At seven in the evening, they came across a wide river mouth, leading from the Amazon and into the density of the jungle. Father Christian instructed the crew to take that course and find a suitable place to rest up for the night.
The tributary soon narrowed until they were cruising down a faster flowing river, now some twenty feet wide. Spotting a wide natural bay to the port side, after journeying for half an hour, they made for it, easing gently to the sloping, soil-covered shore. After securing the craft, they all went ashore to take some exercise and ease the aching legs brought about by the inactivity.
The heat was oppressive, causing clothing to cling uncomfortably and it wasn’t long before the men had removed their shirts and Sister Vasquez had tugged her blouse from the skirt band allowing what little air there was, to circulate around her upper body.
In his sleep, Ignatious’s smile broadened as his brain now admitted to the lecherous feelings he’d had on seeing the young nun with the bottom of her blouse showing glimpses of the firm waist-line as it flapped gently, and the sight of her nipples as they were made visible by the sweat-soaked material clinging tightly. At the time, he had denied himself admittance to this weakness.
The path, such as it was, suddenly came to an end with an impenetrable barrier of thick foliage barring any further progress. The sounds of the jungle seemed to bounce back off this natural wall, echoing and booming into the air. An unbelievable array of wildlife had been seen on the short walk to their present position: many colourful butterflies, birds, howler monkeys demonstrating the source of their name, playful toucans, scarlet macaws and several squirrel monkeys flitting busily through the trees.
Somewhere near, but never seen, came the unnerving sound of boars, always crashing through bushes in an angry manner. Unknown to the group, a jaguar had tailed them for a time, curious as to what was invading his territory.
However, the biggest danger had come to them by a mischievous spider monkey that persisted in breaking off tree branches and hurling them with surprising force at the intruders below. It was a small miracle that no one was injured. The party retraced their steps and returned to the boat where they set up the sleeping arrangements for the night. Having settled the bed positions, they covered each with a fine net as a protection against any of the flying insects that may take a fancy to them, the bites or stings presenting a danger of severe illness.
After a fitful night’s sleep, the missionaries set about their morning ablutions and cooked a small breakfast before setting off again. The swiftness of the river carried the boat along as the sun began to clear the early morning mists and send its warm rays to the life below.
Twenty yards down river, Ignatious observed another inlet that was teeming with some form of life. As he watched, a huge, ugly jaw opened, displaying a fearsome mouth. Then another and yet another appeared. He realised with a shudder that they had set their camp within easy distance of a group of crocodiles!
An hour later and the party were ready to come ashore again and trek through the jungle in search of a tribe. They secured the boat, making it fast so that it would be there when they eventually decided to return to civilisation, and set off, Father Christian taking the lead.
The journey was hard, hot and uncomfortable, necessitating hacking through several miles of untouched vegetation, with their large, flat-bladed knives. They had no idea where they were going, using the position of the sun to ascertain the general direction of their travels.
On the second night, a raging fever hit Ignatious, rendering him totally inactive. He was laid inside a makeshift canopy, fashioned from the surrounding saplings and fern leaves, with a homemade mosquito net fixed around it. Sister Vasquez tended to him night and day at the risk of her own health suffering. Sleep was necessary, especially in the present conditions, as the travelling was exacting, sapping the strength and will from the determined missionaries. It was four days before Ignatious was fit enough to be moved, although he was still very ill and suffering a constant temperature. Needing to continue, Christian and Ottomier dragged their companion on a stretcher of canvas and bamboo poles, whilst Vasquez kept a close eye on her patient throughout.
The going was slow, the stretcher having to be constantly put down whilst the men swathed a path forward. All three had sensed the presence of other beings close by but, apart from an occasional rustling of leaves, nothing else was heard and nothingat all was seen.
The undergrowth was exceptionally high at this point, with little light penetrating the gigantic trees, whose upper branches carried plant life that would normally be fertile on the ground. However, the light being so poor, the plants had, over time, found their natural habitat in the branches and this is where they proliferated. The team worked in a state of semi-darkness each day until exhausted.
Another three days passed then, quite suddenly, the interminable undergrowth gave way to a clearing, which provided a narrow stream, seemingly of pure water, gurgling past and curving away. Christian and Ottomier rushed forward with Vasquez close behind. Arriving at the stream, all three threw themselves to it, burying their heads under the water and gulping it in greedily.
Several minutes passed before they left the stream and returned to Ignatious, Vasquez carrying a container of water for him. As he came into view, the missionaries were delighted to see him sitting up and looking around. Ignatious’s eyes looked clear and alert once more. The fever had clearly left.
“Ah! Father Hadleigh! Welcome back to the world!” shouted Christian happily, as he ran to his friend and enveloped him in a crushing bear hug. “Welcome back! We have been most worried about you Gawain.”
When he recovered from the hug, standing on shaky legs, Ignatious accepted the greetings of Ottomier and Vasquez. He still felt weak and on unsure legs but he knew the illness was past.
“How long have I been out?” he asked.
“Over a week, altogether,” answered Ottomier, “but the Sister, here, took good care of you, Gawain. You can thank her for your recovery. She stayed with you night and day. She is a true saint.”
Ignatious turned to the Sister, who was bending her head in embarrassment at the praise. “Thank you sister,” he said with heartfelt emotion, “I owe you a lot.” He hugged her to him.
“You owe me nothing Father,” she said, quietly, “I’m sure you would have done just the same for me.” Ignatious wasn’t so sure he would.
The party set up camp in the clearing, which stretched for as far as the eye could see, following the bend of the stream and into infinity. Short grass covered the entire distance between the foliage and the stream, on both sides.
The day had passed quickly and it was now time to sleep and recharge the system for the day ahead; a day, which everyone felt sure, would bring them to a village and people to convert.