by Joe Stanley
four
Soon the camp disappeared into the horizon behind him. He switched the radio off, just to be sure they couldn’t try to call him back immediately. He didn’t want to think of it as running, but with the camp out of sight, he actually felt relieved. It was as though he had just escaped something. He determined that if the Professor needed to talk about things, he was going to have to explain why the camp was treating him like a prisoner.
As he zipped along the dusty tracks that passed for roads out here, he enjoyed the sense of freedom more and more. The beauty of the landscape, as it seemed to roll by him, was a pleasure he hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate. It towered in the forests, it swept with the wind across seas of grasses, it flirted from the colored blossoms of countless wild flowers.
Nature had a beauty that the greatest mind could ignore, perhaps because the height of man’s awareness is insufficient to fully perceive it. Ages creep by, generation after generation, each pursuing their own novelty, they all seem to miss the greatest truth, even as it stands right before their eyes. Maybe that was why nature was so cruel, it resents us for the chances we squander.
Beneath the shade of a large, lonesome tree he parked the jeep and returned to his map while he ate his lunch. With a momentary pause, he glanced at the radio he had switched off. He supposed that the moment he turned it back on a barking voice would command him to return to camp. He was prepared to tell that voice, regardless of who it was, that he’d be back soon enough, but only when he was ready.
His fingers forgot the radio as another idea seized his attention and made him grab the map. Starting with the river was a good idea, narrowing down the search using the flora and fauna data – to identify likely food sources – was big help, but the area remaining was still of considerable size. Though any natives would need those food sources, most of the areas he had marked were places that other students had already been before. He doubted that even the densest student gathering plant samples would overlook the telltale signs of human habitation. If there were any to find, the larger portion of the map could be ignored.
He knew that the flora fauna map didn’t represent actual boundaries, that they were representative of samples taken in those areas. Wind, water and animals had collectively conspired to scatter seeds from a source somewhere in the region. He used the maps to project how they might have scattered, drawing lines to indicate direction.
He was pleased to see that many of the lines, when followed in the opposite direction seemed to be converging on an area that wasn’t on the maps. Here the river waited, seeming to beckon to him as it must have done to any natives.
He circled the area on the map. This was his best guess.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.