CHAPTER
SEVEN

“Check where the poacher is,” whispered Ben urgently. “If he’s on to this we’ve got to stop him.”

“He’s not moved from the village,” answered Zoe, checking the green light. Then she put her BUG into communication mode.

“We must tell Erika immediately,” she murmured, as she pressed 2 – the hot key that would dial Erika direct. “No signal here!” She groaned in frustration. “I suppose there aren’t many phone masts in the jungle.”

“We can’t get a signal from our hut and we don’t want to risk being heard in the village with this news,” said Ben, keeping his voice down. “We don’t know who’s in league with that poacher. We need to get higher.”

“Well, I’m not climbing trees in the middle of the night!” declared Zoe.

“Don’t worry,” hissed Ben. “We’ll just go to higher ground.”

“OK,” Zoe agreed. “But Tora will hear us if we leave now. We’ll just have to wait till she goes.”

“That’s lucky for you,” grinned Ben. “You can do some fluffy-wuffy little cub watching. I’m going to get some sleep.”

Zoe eagerly trained her goggles on the cubs. “Oh but they’re sooo sweet,” she cooed softly. “Look at them suckling from their mum! Now one’s biting the other one’s ear. And listen to them mew, Ben. I could just hug them.”

Ben sighed and gave up trying to sleep. They watched Tora nudge her cubs towards the water. The cubs spluttered as they drank. Tora seemed to be keeping guard. She held her head high and gave off soft, deep growls.

“She’s a good mum,” said Zoe. “She’ll guard those babies with her life.”

“Freeze,” warned Ben. “She’s on the move.”

Tora was padding silently towards the trail – and towards Ben and Zoe. They held their breath, hoping the scent dispersers were still working. Tora might be hungry. Zoe felt a mixture of thrill and terror as the beautiful tiger stalked along, her cubs padding at her heels. They looked as if they were trying to be as regal as their mother, but couldn’t resist sniffing the ground or ambushing each other as they went. Zoe gave a regretful sigh as they disappeared.

“Let’s go,” said Ben, stretching his stiff legs. “No time to lose.”

“First I’ll find out exactly where the nearest high ground is,” Zoe told him as she checked her screen. “We can’t wait forever for you to work it out. There it is. Cochoa Hill.”

It was a long walk through the dark forest to Cochoa Hill. By the time they had begun to trek up the slope, the first glimmers of sun were beginning to filter through the trees.

“I hope we get a signal up there,” panted Zoe, as she pushed through the huge flowers and ferny undergrowth of the steep slope. “The sooner Wild can contact the sanctuary the better.” She stopped to check her BUG. “Nothing yet.”

At last they reached the top of the hill. Ben wiped the sweat off his forehead and drained the last of his water.

“Got a signal!” yelled Zoe, sending a flock of bright yellow birds screeching into the air. “No, it’s gone again – and we’ve run out of hill.”

“Now it is time for tree climbing,” said Ben grimly. He looped the strap of his BUG round his wrist and began to shin up the nearest tree, using the dangling creepers to pull on and ignoring the ants that were running over his arms. “I hope I don’t have to go as far as the jungle canopy,” he called down.

“Be careful,” warned Zoe. “I don’t want you falling on top of me.”

As Ben climbed, the forest suddenly darkened and huge drops of water began to splatter down through the trees. Soon every other jungle sound was blotted out by the beat of the water on the canopy above.

Ben could feel the tree swaying under his weight as he gripped with one hand and fumbled for his BUG with the other.

Rainwater was streaming down the trunk, making it hard to hold on. Hope this thing’s waterproof, he thought to himself as he struggled with the slippery buttons. At last he accessed the communicator, tapped in Erika’s hot key and held the BUG to his ear. It rang and rang. He pressed 1 to get through to Wild headquarters instead. “Hello?” he shouted as he heard a faint voice. The signal seemed to be coming and going. “Uncle Stephen?”

No answer. Still holding the device to his ear, he tried to scramble higher, pushing on the spindly branches with his feet.

“Tora’s cubs are out of the den,” he shouted. “And the poachers are in the village – at least we think so. Can you contact the sanctuary for us?”

“Hello, Ben!” He could just hear his godfather’s cheerful voice. “Bad signal. Say again?”

Ben heaved himself up as high as he could. “Sanctuary needs to come now!” he said. “The cubs are –”

CRACK! The branch under his foot snapped and he fell.

He grabbed wildly at the trunk as he went. Wet twigs slapped in his face and he felt the skin being scraped from his palms, but he couldn’t get a handhold.

Then, with a jerk, the BUG strap around his wrist caught on a branch and he found himself swinging ten metres above the ground. His arm felt as if it was going to be pulled out of its socket. But at least he’d stopped falling.

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The BUG suddenly vibrated. “Ben?” It was Uncle Stephen’s voice. He could hardly hear it over the thunderous sound of the rain. “Are you there? How’s it going?”

Typical, thought Ben. I’m hanging from a tree in a tropical rainstorm and now I get perfect reception!

“Urgent message!” he shouted up to the BUG. “Tora’s cubs are out of the den.” He twisted about, legs flailing, desperately trying to find something to hold on to.

“Already!” he heard Uncle Stephen exclaim. “Tell me all about them. Have they got…?”

The BUG bleeped and went silent.

Ben managed to get hold of a creeper and hauled himself on to a branch. He unhooked the BUG and climbed down the tree as quickly as his bleeding hands would allow. Zoe had found a huge leaf to shelter under. Ben joined her, nursing his wounds.

“Are you OK?” she yelled over the sound of the pounding rain. “I heard some noises and I called up, but I don’t think you heard me.”

“I slipped a little.” Ben grinned, showing her his palms.

“Nasty.” She grimaced. “Did you speak to Uncle Stephen?”

“Briefly,” Ben yelled back. “I just hope he got my message OK, and that the sanctuary will be on their way to get Tora before the poachers do.”

Zoe swung her backpack off her shoulder and found the medical kit. She splashed water on his grazes and began to cover them with dressings.

“Better get back to the village,” said Ben. “I think we should…ouch!…make sure that the poachers…yow, Zoe, that stings…aren’t on Tora’s trail yet.”

It was late morning by the time Ben and Zoe reached the village. It had stopped raining and everywhere was steaming in the sun.

“At least the rain’s washed the tiger wee off,” said Zoe. “Now to work.”

“Can’t we get something to eat?” moaned Ben. “If anyone hears my stomach rumbling, they’ll think the tiger’s arrived in town.”

“As soon as we’ve checked out the poachers,” Zoe insisted. She took out her BUG and tapped some keys. A green light flashed. “That Wicaksono’s still at home and we might be able to get close enough to hear something if we hang around.”

They made for his house. There was no sign of anyone, but there was a row of men’s shoes by the door. They could hear a voice coming from inside.

“Deal again. I’m feeling lucky. Get your money ready.”

“Sounds like cards,” said Zoe.

“Risky,” said Ben. “The programme I saw said that gambling is forbidden in Sumatra.”

A woman was walking briskly towards the house. Zoe and Ben quickly sat down and pretended to be playing games on their BUGs. They made sure their translators were on and their earpieces in. The woman didn’t seem to see them. She marched straight up the steps.

“Sapto!” she called in an angry voice. “I know you’re in there!” She thumped on the wooden door. “I’m staying here until you come out.”

There was a shuffling from inside. The woman bashed on the door again. At last it opened. Wicaksono stood there.

“Ah… Hello, Ratu…” he said. “Your husband isn’t here. I haven’t seen him…”

“Out of my way!” Without another word, the woman pushed past and went inside the house. Ben and Zoe could hear yelling and the sound of things being knocked over. Then the woman reappeared, dragging a man along by his ear!

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“Some husband you are!” she yelled, as she pulled him down the steps, sweeping up his shoes as she went. “You promise to stop gambling and what do I find…”

“I’m sorry, Ratu my love,” the man was whimpering, as they went out of sight. “I was just about to win – I had the best cards ever. You could have had everything you wanted…ow!”

Two other men came to the door of the hut. They pulled on their shoes and scurried off sheepishly.

Ben looked at Zoe. “If they’re dangerous poachers, I’m an aardvark!” he said. “It was just a secret gambling game. ‘Making a killing’ was a phrase, not what they were setting out to do. We’re back to square one.”