Loved Brondong Online

74. Lost in the Forest (23)

Follow the flow path by climbing steep climbs and circling several small waterfalls, be careful to keep both feet from getting wet.  If I have to fly the river, I do it by jumping or tiptoe on the big rocks scattered there.

Sometimes he was helped by fallen trees.  Then several streams combine with the flow that is followed so that the waters are wider.

Now he's down the river.  The ground was flatter, but the seed was very dense.  Without a machete to slash, the journey was extremely difficult.  There is no choice but to follow the location of the land that forms a kind of path and is often blocked.  He struggled to climb some sort of trail and was often blocked.  He struggled up the reef, crawling under the branches of trees.  The thorns tore at his clothes.  Sometimes his hands get skewered by nettles.

One time he accidentally rubbed the wrong branch.  A swarm of fire ants instantly looked for a way to attack his nape.  The good weather is over, the rain is back.  His entire effort to keep his feet dry ended up in vain.

Because it's soaked already, wading through the river seems like a good idea, let alone the water is quite shallow, only knee-deep or sometimes waist-deep.  Occasionally he lost his seat and drowned.  Even though his backpack could float, it still made it difficult to surface.

With a tense feeling he looked carefully at the roar of the river, listening to whether there was a waterfall or a rushing stream that could wash him away.  He could feel the painful rash on his legs spreading, but he was helpless to do anything to prevent it.

Is there someone up there who lowered his gaze here and realized the difficulties experienced?  Alone in the forest, without other humans, in the grip of Mother Nature's cruel power?

“Please, help me.  At least make the rain stop.  Can I keep walking with these two legs.”

He doesn't know when the night will come down.  Every now and then the sun passed behind the clouds so he thought he had to move fast and make a tent.  Then the sun appeared again, he continued walking because he did not want to waste the rest of the bright time.

After passing through a small bend in the river, he finally arrived at a beautiful beach.  Pure white sand, crystal clear water, one big bush full of small red fruit.  The last two days he had only eaten a few grains of garlic with a pinch of salt, then greedily pounced on the sweet berries.

At first he still picked the berries one by one and put them in the mouth, before long he immediately scooped a full handful and stuffed them into the mouth.  The sweet taste was so melenakan, fruit liquid filled his stomach that rumbling.  He was unmoved in the bush for at least twenty minutes, until his hands were red with berry juice and his hunger was satisfied.

He leaned over, thirsting for water from the river to wash his sweaty face.  In this part the river is very wide.  This must be another river marked on the map, the river was undoubtedly its destination should only be a half mile away.

Fantastical.  Tomorrow he'll get there.  Tomorrow we will continue camping on the beach.  At least he can hope to have a delicious breakfast tomorrow.

An unusually large long tree lay on the beach.  The bumps on the trunk leave a gap between the tree and the soil underneath.  He will spend the night here only.  The land is dry, no rain.

He crawled under the tree trunk.  He can't sit, he can only bend his elbows.  Pick up mosquito wire and ponchos, get ready for the night.  Before lying down, he went back to the berry bush and once again ate a meal of it.

After that, he lay wrapped around the body under the tree while chewing the garlic slowly.  The sun has set, the moon has risen.  What an amazingly beautiful view.  Unfortunately, the beautiful scenery could not do much to assuage her fears.  It is calculated minute by minute and the clock changes hours until morning comes.

At dawn he saw a doe and her cubs coming down to drink in the river.  The white-footed agile animal was getting closer to the water.  The mother deer approached her footprints.  Suddenly he stopped and fled, his son soon followed.  Had they stopped for a drink and he managed to hurt the child, he would have been arrested.  The meat is soft and delicious.

Like yesterday, he had to absorb berries, not deer meat the difference, this time he no longer enjoyed it.  He eats like a machine, without feeling, forcing himself to swallow a lot.  It was considered to bring a little berry in a can, but the condition of the can is rusty and the smell of garlic, especially then seen almost no more edible berries on the tree.

“Not a problem,” thought Made.  “Someone must have protected me.  I must have had some food today.”

He started walking while carrying a backpack on his back.  It's still raining.  He tried to wade through the river in quick motion at once carefully, pinning all hope on his ability to rediscover his path.  The rain started to harden.  Her wet hair slid into the eyes, while her unshaven ten-day mustache made rainwater drip into the mouth.  He was so cold and languishing that he did not notice that the roar of the river grew stronger.

Suddenly he fell.  The river was swept from his feet.  He was dragged downstream.  Now only he realized the meaning of increasing the roar of the river.  Not wrong again, it was the sound of water breaking on the rocks.  Oh my God, he's dragged into the waterfall!

He tried to swim ashore, but the oversized and bulging backpack pulled him down until he almost drowned.  When under the surface of the water is released the rope on the back until the only remaining rope is wrapped around the waist.  When raised head, in front of the waterfall.  Like a madman he swam until he managed to grab a rock near the reef.  The stone was slippery and covered in slippery moss, it was almost dragged again.

He could see the waterfall that was located almost below him.  At approximately twenty-five feet tall, the fall is accommodated by a pool formed from rocks below.  Very carefully he wriggled up the rock he was holding.  The weight of the backpack continued to drag him towards the river.  Remove one hand from the stone, trying to reach the backpack strap.  When curling the body backwards, it splashes into the water.  His chest hit the rock.  He thought he would suffocate.

His feet were stuck in the flow of currents, quickly held by a powerful rock.  The fingers are pressed deeply into the moss.  After coming out of the water, he sat on the stone, resting for a while, still gripped with fear.  Finally he pulled the backpack out of the water and carried it back on his back.