Something flashed in the distance.

William froze, not sure what was out there.

A shadow darted behind some bushes. William’s heart began to race.Are the Indians returning?

A brownish object leaped from behind the cluster of tree trunks and disappeared beyond view permitted by the cave walls.

William’s mouth dropped. “That was no Indian!”

A low throaty sound echoed off the walls, raising hairs on the back of his neck.

The animal reappeared, larger in size, prancing toward the cave.

He stared before the creature again jumped out of view.

All at once, the form appeared at the opening. It was a huge cat.

William shrank behind a boulder as it paused on the threshold, sniffing the air. He remembered seeing a mountain lion when they once visited British North America, but this animal looked different. Its’ reddish brown hide was covered by large beige spots with black outlines. This must be the infamous Jaguar of the South American territories.

William peeked over the top at the beast. Its shoulders rose four feet above ground, and when it yawned, the animal stretched nine feet in length. He estimated the creature must weigh at least three hundred pounds with a head bigger than his own.

It emitted a thunderous growl that filled the close space and started into the cave.

The throaty sounds were deafening. The animal approached to within ten feet from his spot.

William crouched down with his mind racing. How could he avoid a hideous death? A thought occurred. Should I take a chance and challenge the beast?If he stood up suddenly, maybe he could startle the creature before it smelled him out. But then what? Running would give him no chance. A rock thrown with full force would hardly slow it. Maybe handfuls of dirt thrown in its face would confuse it.

Summoning all his courage, he grabbed some ground and launched himself upward. For an instant, the animal paused. William stared into its yellow eyes and watched folds of dark skin around its mouth curl upward, revealing incisors four inches long. He began to shake uncontrollably. The beast tensed to lunge.

With a tremendous roar, the hellish gargoyle sprung at him. William threw the pumice and squeezed his eyes shut for the impact.

********************************************************************

It started to rain.

At first, the cold drops pummeled the climbers with stinging distraction. Both pressed themselves spread-eagle against the vertical cliff face, a thousand feet above the canyon floor, cautiously edging downward. With numbing persistence, the downpour soaked their clothes and drenched the path. The runoff became so fierce that they had to stop. Liquid poured from the cliff overhead like a giant waterfall. It took all of Charles’ strength to just stand and endure the barrage of water.

This is madness! Charles mused. They were certain to make a miss-step and plunge to their deaths. Behind him, Victoria's quivering voice rose over the rain as if she read his mind.

"Charles, I don’t think I can go any further! Please, we must go back up."

He twisted with a dour expression, fighting a rising panic.

"Don’t look down! Slowly, turn your head and climb up the trail."

They started to retrace their steps, but Victoria stopped after a few feet. Torrents continued to run off the layers above them, turning the trail into a splashing river. Charles watched Victoria's pale body shake with uncertainty as she tried to make another step sideways. His legs ached and he could no longer feel the sharp angular handholds under his grasp. He closed his eyes. How long can we remain on the ledge?

"Charles, I can't move!" she shouted hysterically. "It's too steep. I'm losing my grip!"

Taking a deep breath, he let go with his right hand and reached out to press her against the rocks. He doubted whether it added much to her safety, but he hoped the action would calm her terror. His arm began to complain. His grip loosened. Instinctively, he glanced over his shoulder to assess the fall and see the impact spot below, hoping for the glimmer of a chance. Instead, he spotted a figure at the base of the cliff. A man stood underneath, looking up at them. It was William!

Charles yelled a final plea. "Help! Help!"

Not knowing his discovery, Victoria also screamed, anticipating what was about to happen.

********************************************************************

William awoke to a tickling feeling on the back of his right hand. His eyelids parted to view a grey overcast sky. The warm air hung over his face like a soggy blanket. Seagull coos echoed in the distance, and the ground under his body shuddered with the rhythmic pounding of crashing waves. Slowly, he rotated his head left, and then right. A strip of narrow beach bordered with densely packed palm trees stretched to curving peninsulas on both sides and formed a small cove one hundred yards wide. There was no sign of either the boat or its passengers.

The tickling came again, drawing his eyes down to the arm that was partially hidden by his right side. Above his hip, he spied the coiled tail of a scorpion moving beyond the curve of his sleeve. Without thinking, he flung his arm and jerked himself upright to a sitting position. The insect landed a few feet away and immediately began crawling back to him. He scrambled to his feet and hurriedly stepped away.

How long did I lie on the sand? He glanced down at his dry, wrinkled clothes and bare feet. An eyebrow rose at the lack of footwear, a consequence of the violent struggle after the boat capsized; the warm sand felt good against his scared skin.

He called again and again, but heard only the dull roar of the sea. Squinting out at the blank horizon, he observed the waves moving to his right. He followed the current; any pieces of the boat’s wreckage would have drifted in that direction.

Rounding the promontory of crowded palms, he discovered another deserted bay. No tracks stood out in the loose sand, nor were there any signs of life within the trees. The lush growth piled against the beach did not permit a view inland and the tangled growth of vines and pointed leaves formed an effective barrier to any travel away from the seaside. He trudged on to the next cove and the one after.

The shoreline gradually narrowed, forcing him to step inside the encroaching foam to maintain his progress southward. Outcroppings of rock replaced the soft granules and coarse stones formed the ocean bed. His bare feet ached from the rugged terrain. He spent anxious moments carefully climbing over slippery boulders, avoiding sharp crags and trying to stay out of the jarring surf and splashing sea.

After an hour’s work, William came upon another wide stretch of sand. The small bays gave way to a two hundred foot, ecru colored shore extending miles ahead without obstruction. He turned completely around, feeling alone in a vast new world bereft of humankind. Doggedly, he put his head down and marched on.

By mid-day, the sky had cleared, causing the temperature to soar. The blazing sun produced a blinding brilliance off both sand and sea. Every ten minutes, William dove into the water for relief. His clothes were alternately soaked with perspiration and seawater between his frequent visits to the cooling waves. The hot sand burnt his feet and, closer to the water, the coarse rocks were also painful. He gazed longingly at the shady trees with a thought that it might be prudent to rest out of the sunlight for a few hours. Reluctantly, he dismissed the idea; who knew what hazards lay waiting within the undergrowth.

The Englishman plodded on, passing endless clusters of palms. How much further can they be? He stopped and looked back over his shoulder, realizing how far he had come. What if I started off in the wrong direction? The boat may have washed up just on the other side of that first peninsula! If he did not find his family, his only hope would be to find a settlement along the water’s edge.

Near shore, patches of white foam came and went within a maze of waves that dotted a surface of green. Far out to sea, the water became a deep blue on the featureless horizon; a sharp contrast to the pale sky above. The emptiness seemed to mock his effort to find his companions. William sighed and returned his attention to the horizon ahead.

Suddenly, a speck of movement appeared. At first, he thought it was his imagination. He rubbed his eyes. There it was again. A tiny white spot jumped back and forth on the beach. A mirage? Slowly, it expanded in size and began taking shape. It was a person running in his direction.

As the distance closed, William could make out the individual’s white shirt and brown pants. Tattered clothing flapped in the air as he ran. Flowing red hair and a long ragged beard came into view next, giving William the impression of a castaway just discovered after years of isolation. The form gestured wildly at him.

It was Charles.

Within seconds, they were hugging and dancing like delirious children, then Charles stepped back, panting for air. His smile changed to a look of concern. “Emily and the others have been taken hostage by a tribe of black people! The creatures jumped out of the trees and surrounded us. They jabbed at our bodies with knives tied to poles and yelled awful noises.”

He held up his forearm to show a six-inch gash of crusted blood.

“We were herded into the jungle. I feared for the women, so I pretended to go along. They took us single file on a path through the trees. When we came to a bend, I threw myself into the bushes and ran for my life. Once I made it to the beach, I never looked back. I’ve been charging along the water hoping to find you.”