Night started to fall, and they were both tired. The previous day’s experience with the pirates and a disturbed night of near abductions from the Chullachaqui had drained them, and Molly had slept only a little. The difficult walk in the heat had exhausted them, but they needed to set up a camp while they still had light. They decided to use their flashlights as little as possible, to avoid drawing the attention of any illegal wood loggers who might be nearby.
They set up the tent in the roots of a huge tree, careful to check for any ‘inhabitants’ beforehand. They inflated the built-in mattress and pegged out the mesh tent that would let air in while, hopefully, keeping everything else out. They ate quickly and crawled into the flimsy tent, exhausted. Molly blew a little mapacho smoke around and her jungle heart told her just to trust they would be safe.
There was only a thin sliver of moon, and in the pitch black of the night, fireflies glowed. Some were white, and some had the same green eyes they had seen in the village. Jonathan thought how completely lost they would be in the darkness and placed his flashlight so he knew exactly where it was.
The sounds of the jungle were even louder here. There were nocturnal birds and other peculiar sounds that Molly said were frogs. Molly was too tired to think of anything but sleep. Jonathan tried his best to keep watch, but quickly fell into a deep slumber. Nestled in the buttress roots of this grand tree, they felt safe and protected.