Ben fumbled for his torch but Zoe quickly pulled him back away from the stump. “Better be careful. It could be anything – we’ve heard leopard calls, don’t forget.”
There was a sudden movement from the dead tree. Ben and Zoe ripped off their goggles and took cover at a distance.
“Round black ears!” said Ben in a whisper. “That’s no leopard.”
“White face,” Zoe whispered back as the top of a furry head appeared. “It’s definitely a panda! It’s got to be Jing Jing this time!”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” murmured Ben as two black eye patches slowly appeared.
“It looks like a cub,” breathed Zoe, watching the slow-moving animal intently. “If it is Jing Jing I reckon he’s hiding from the leopard in there.”
The panda climbed clumsily out of its hole, grunting painfully as it moved. It plopped to the ground and rested against the tree, slowly turning its head, scanning the dense forest. Its ears twitched as if it was listening.
“Let’s get a bit nearer,” Ben whispered in Zoe’s ear. “If it’s Jing Jing he won’t be scared. He’s used to people.”
Their hearts in their mouths, they moved towards the young panda.
At first the cub didn’t stir. It gazed from one to the other, panting heavily.
“It looks undernourished,” whispered Ben.
“No round belly. And its eyes are dull.”
“Don’t be scared,” said Zoe, kneeling down in front of the little panda. “We won’t hurt you.” She looked up at Ben. “I can’t see its back paws. We still don’t know if it’s Jing Jing.”
Ben slid a hand into his backpack. “Jing Jing or not, it needs our help.”
He broke off a piece of panda bread and handed it to Zoe. Flinching at the movement, the panda suddenly scrambled to its feet. The next moment it had disappeared among the trees.
“That must have been a wild panda too,” said Ben. “Jing Jing wouldn’t have been frightened like that.”
“It was Jing Jing,” said Zoe, jumping up. “I saw his paw as he went. It only had three toes.”
“Then why did he run away?” said Ben.
“I think it might be the scent dispersers,” Zoe reminded him. “We might have looked like humans but we wouldn’t have smelt right. That would’ve confused him. And he’s been alone in the forest for some time now. He’ll be scared of everything. Anyway, don’t argue! Follow me. The tracks are really clear. And they’re heading back to the dead bamboo.”
They followed the line of tracks downhill through the brown withered stalks. At first it led in a straight line, then the steps seemed to waiver.
“I reckon it was just adrenalin giving him the energy to run away,” said Ben, as they examined the faltering prints. “He can’t be far now. He’ll be more exhausted than ever, an easy target for the leopard.”
“We’ve got to get to him first,” muttered Zoe as they tiptoed forwards. “But this time we take it really slowly. No sudden movements – and scent dispersers off.”
They could hear the waterfall crashing in the distance somewhere up above them. At last the trees thinned a little and the prints led to a narrow stream.
Something was moving on the other side amongst the ferns. It was taking slow labouring steps, stopping every now and then to muster enough energy to carry on.
Then it stopped abruptly and slumped to the ground.
“There he is!” breathed Ben. “We’ve found him. Now remember, no sudden movements.”
“He’s shivering,” said Zoe, peering out. “He must be cold. Come on, we need to cross over to him.”
“He’s not cold,” said Ben, and Zoe could hear tension in his voice. “He’s afraid. Stay absolutely still.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Up there.”
Zoe followed his gaze. Crouched on a branch above Jing Jing was a snarling clouded leopard. Its coat, dark and blotched like a snake, rippled as its muscles tensed.
“It’s going to pounce!” she gasped in horror.
But the leopard’s head suddenly whipped round, its ears twitching wildly.
“What’s the matter with it?” whispered Ben.
The forest all around came alive with anxious bird calls and monkey cries and the leopard gave a strange high-pitched yowl. Without another look at the panda, it streaked off and was gone.
RRRUMMBBBLE! A deafening sound rose from under them as if rocks were being hurled together. The ground began to shake. With a tremendous flutter of wings the birds left the trees and distant cries of terrified animals filled the forest. Zoe was thrown off her feet. She crashed into Ben and they both went sprawling.
“Curl up!” Ben shouted. Zoe didn’t need telling twice. She made herself into a tight ball, head covered. Ben dived down next to her, uphill of her body, his backpack between them and the falling rocks.
Stones and small boulders were tumbling down the hill, bouncing over them. Ben could feel the impact of them striking his backpack, which cushioned the heavy blows.
And then as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped.
“Thanks, Ben,” said Zoe gratefully. “That was quick thinking.”
“And that was some aftershock!” gasped Ben.
Zoe scrambled to her feet. “Where’s Jing Jing?” she cried in alarm, scanning the forest. “I can’t see him.”
“It’s all right,” said Ben. “He’s taken shelter by that bush over there.”
The little panda lay under the overhanging leaves, his head slumped down on his chest.
“We must get to him,” said Zoe, urgently tugging at Ben’s arm.
“Too right,” agreed Ben. “He’s barely moving. Perhaps he was hurt by the falling rocks. And we don’t know if the leopard’s still around.”
They were about to jump across the narrow stream when more rumbling filled the air.
“What’s that?” cried Zoe, stopping suddenly. “Is it another aftershock?”
“The ground’s not shaking this time.” Ben peered up the slope of the mountain. “It’s coming from the direction of the waterfall. It’s as if the hill’s roaring.”
A noise like an explosion battered their ears as water burst out from the slope above, flattening trees and bushes in its wake. It surged down the hillside in a deafening torrent, bringing earth, rocks and branches with it. Ben and Zoe stumbled back in terror away from the wall of water that pounded into the narrow stream. More rocks were falling now and whole trees were slipping down the slope towards them. Ben pulled Zoe further back from the shifting earth.
“The aftershock’s done this!” gasped Ben, as a huge boulder went crashing past. “It must’ve blocked the underground river. Now all the water’s coming this way.”
Horrified, Ben and Zoe gazed down the steep, sloping bank at their feet. Below them the wide, raging river, bulging with rocks and wood, rushed wildly downhill. Jing Jing lay unmoving under his umbrella of branches on the opposite side. The ground was much lower there and the water was sucking away at the bank. He was within centimetres of the deadly flow.
“If the earth crumbles any further he’ll be swept away,” Zoe whispered. “And there’s no way we can get across to him.”