Chapter 3: The Secret Sanctuary

Deep within the valley, where the canopy grew so thick that the sun only filtered through in dusty green beams, Mtumishi finally stopped. He set the two trembling juveniles down near the hollow of a massive, ancient tree. 🌳

Pendo immediately scrambled into the hollow, his big brown eyes wide with terror. “I’m sorry, Mtumishi,” he whimpered, burying his face in his hands. “I just wanted to see what was in the bag.”

Mtumishi dropped the red backpack onto the dirt. He sat down heavily, his back against the tree, his chest heaving as he fought the lingering dizziness. He reached up and gently pulled the orange dart from his shoulder, tossing it aside with a low grunt.

“You must learn to look with your eyes, not your hands,” Mtumishi’s posture conveyed, his gentle nudge reassuring the young one.

The older juvenile stepped forward, sniffing the red backpack curiously. “What do we do now? They will look for us.”

Mtumishi looked down at the backpack. With a delicate touch that seemed impossible for fingers so thick, he unzipped the main compartment. Inside was a treasure trove of human items: a shiny metal water bottle, a small map, a packet of sweet dried fruit, and a small, silver whistle.

Mtumishi picked up the whistle. He had seen the rangers use these before. When they blew into them, a high, piercing sound would summon the other humans in uniform—the ones who protected the forest.

He looked back toward the direction of the clearing. The forest was quiet, too quiet. The birds had stopped singing, a sure sign that the poachers were still tracking them through the brush.