Chapter 3

With dawn came the mosquitoes and the hangover - literally. At some point during the night, Kip had rolled over and vomited over the side of the wing. When there was nothing left, he passed out again, still hanging precariously over the edge. It was only four or five feet off the ground, but if he had fallen the wrong way he could have broken his neck.

"What a cheerful thought." he grumbled sourly.

He had a tendency to think out loud. It had gotten him into a lot of trouble over the years. His mouth tasted like he'd been chewing on his sweat socks, and his head was throbbing like a 1960's strobe light. He had to get himself out of this section of the jungle and make his way to his father's section of the jungle. Either way, rocks and trees were going to be the only scenery for some time to come.

He had his satellite GPS with him so he wasn't lost, he just had no intention of hacking through the jungle for twenty five kilometres. He could do it within a couple of days if he felt like going to that much of an effort, but he didn't. Besides, if  he left the plane alone it would be overrun with monkeys within an hour.  He had heard them howling in the jungle ever since he landed. By the time he got back with help, there would be nothing left to retrieve.

At least he had the presence of mind to  lock everything inside the plane. The Cessna was crumpled, but the two doors still locked, and there was no opening big enough for monkeys to gain access. Snakes were another story.

He was very careful where he tread when he went back into the small storage space. He took a litre jug of kerosene and a piece of thick canvas that he had used to tie all the supplies together.  He made sure the doors were firmly locked before he  climbed a pile of broken rocks that he had discovered on the edge of the small clearing. Some of the rocks still had dried mud mortar hanging to them. This rubble was probably yet another ruin left in the jungle.

He climbed to the highest part and formed a circle of smaller rocks. He started a good fire with dry wood, and then he added wet green twigs, guaranteed to make thick dark smoke. Then he slopped some kerosene on it, and lit it. When the fire was strong enough to emit billows of smoke, he fanned it intermittently to form dots and dashes. His father would know it was him, not only because he had taught Kip the technique, but because he was signalling his initials.. KH.  It was a hot windless day, so the signal was going straight up for what seemed like miles. His dad was sure to see it, and send help.


The End

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