Un-orderliness
Upon the third day of October, 1903, he set out with two friends, Fitzgerald, and Patton and himself, Deppit, to look over the Canyon, for an entrance that they could climb through. With Pacific air, and a low sun the three men climbed down the canyon walls. Once in the crayon they found themselves in a dense jungle; thus, 5000-feet deep, and ten miles wide.
As they looked about, they lost all sense of direction. Creatures of all kinds moved about the foliage: moved the branches two and from, breaking a few, and the brush, the brushes all seemed to make frightful noises; unseen creatures, echoed out of the thick jungle green. The summer heat was upon them, but the green roof, canopy over them, allowed for enough blockages to where they would not roast to death, only sweat. As they journeyed deeper into the thickness of the jungle canyon, with a river running straight through it, it seemed to be of an un-orderly nature. Callous it was, it took all the energy out of them.
This reminds me of the Amazon, roared Fitzgerald, who was a one time soldier in the United States Army, an officer. He had volunteered to come on this expedition, his father owning a real-estate business in the Midwest, and his parents providing funds for the expedition. He was medium built, about twenty-five years old, a blond haired, blue eyed Irishman; a scholar you might say, since he had no trade, but a lot of education.
Patten had a hideous low laugh, the elder of the group, and second in command to Deppit; a professor from the University of Minnesota in Ecology. Deppit was the leader, in his late 30s, and for the most part, a world explorer of mysteries, and Anthropologist.
Follow me, said Deppit, pushing his way through he thick of the jungle, whereupon he stopped suddenly, witnessed the movement in the undergrowth in front of him: it appeared, a giant tarantula. The size of the tarantulas head was the size of a mans head. T he creature crawled out from under the roots of a giant tree. Fitzgeralds eyes were as big as watermelons or pretty close to small watermelons anyway. Young Fitzgerald had a hard time swallowing, his mouth went dry, Kill the thing, he whispered to Deppit. He started to look around to escape. Then Deppit, picked up a long branch, and weaved it between the legs of the creature, as if to tranquillize it, and it moved back under its extended roots cautiously: to its cellar home. Now looking at Fitzgerald, he said in a rough voice,
Get yourself together! Patten had his hand on his rifle; he lowered it, if anything he was ready, overly ready. Deppit didnt say a word to him, figuring I suppose it was ok to be ready, just not to overreact.
As they walked past the tree with the large hole in the side of it (the creatures entrance), the eyes of the tarantula were looking up at Fitzgerald, as if it felt he was his enemy. Fitzgerald saw his eyes glaring at him, and kicked di rt into the hole, onto the glaring eyes.
It all happened like a flash of lightening, the creature sprang out of its hole, onto Fitzgerald, Patten pulled his rifle to his shoulder, and aimed it, but the creature was on top of Fitzgerald, inches away from his face (This island was a mysterious one: one that was mostly underwater for a thousand years, and had risen within the previous forty years or so, and up to this time, never was explored. The expedition was the first of its kind, the first to the island that is, it was discovered forty years ago, but so far off the trading route, no one bothered to explore it, no one that is until now. And now Fitzgerald was inches away from death.)
this giant creature had some formal reasoning; some intelligence. The creature plunged its fangs into the neck of Fitzgerald, and Patten then shot it, almost blew its head off.
Chapter Two
Sunlight
Within a few hours the occurrences of the creature was forgotten ne ws, and Patten and Deppit, pushed their way along the stream in the canyon. They had buried Fitzgerald in the soil along side the tree the creature had lived in. Ah, cold it may seem, but it was the deal they had all made, prior to the trip: should one die along the way, if there is time to bury them so be it, if not, the mission was to write down all they saw, and move down and along the canyon walls, in this case, along he edge of the riverbank, that was. Somehow they knew it had to end up at the other end of the extremely long and winding canyon.
The jungle was thick, but sunlight, creep in, and when the two men got a chance, they grabbed a moment of the sun to regain some energy. The water of the river was cool and pure; it seemed to be a healthy herb to their bodies. Their flesh seemed to glow.
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Short Story
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