Once he’d realized my purpose, he attempted to help by digging away with his bare hands. Too late, the inadvisability of his action became obvious. Thick though the creature’s hide was, it had enough sensitivity to register Pablo’s movements and transmit them to its distant brain. After a while its great sides began to stir, and I stopped all movement for a second or two; but when I saw that this would not be enough to make the great beast subside again, I threw caution to the winds and resumed digging as quickly and as carelessly as would be required to get the job done.

Waking, the creature gave us unexpected aid; the flick of its tail as it began to raise itself had the effect of releasing Pablo completely, and I flung the gourd aside and dragged him out. As I picked up my buffalo gun, Pablo struggled to his feet; his movements were mirrored by those of the waking creature before us, struggling to disentangle itself from its fellows and causing them all to stir in their turn.

Now we were in a pickle. The creatures were rolling over, and the Celtic knot of their daytime nest was rapidly unravelling. The jungle was only yards from us, but our chance of reaching it was quickly vanishing. “Run, Pablo!” I cried, bringing my buffalo gun to bear on the heart of the tangle, and whether or not he understood my words, my dusky friend was in no doubt as to their meaning. As he leapt for the foliage, I fired at the head of the biggest and most dangerous-looking creature at the center of the herd, reasoning that this roughest of beasts must surely be its leader.

As I had predicted, the roar of the gun threw the half-awake beasts into an immediate state of panic and confusion. They fought each other to get free, and I saw Pablo reach safety and disappear into the green without seeming to be noticed.

My own situation was far less certain. Forcing myself to remain calm, I dropped to one knee and reloaded. I was aware of a tail sweeping over me like the boom of a yacht, missing by inches. Within moments, the gun was back to my shoulder and I fired again.

That second shot did it. There was a sudden scream, like no animal sound that I had ever heard before, and the creatures scattered like a mob, crashing off into the jungle on every side. All except for one, this being the beast that I had hit.

The beast did not panic like the others; instead, pain had concentrated his attention on me, his tormentor. I had the river at my back, while the beast stood between me and any chance of escape. I saw it clearly for the first time. Its shape lay somewhere between that of an ape and a dinosaur, only one of the many fantastical forms that I was to encounter in the dark days ahead. Blood was leaking down its hide from a chest wound. Its yellow eyes were fixed upon me, and they blazed with fury as the creature lunged.

I had no chance to load and fire again. I could only run in one direction, and that was to the river. The river held terrors of its own; they were beneath the surface and out of sight, but those terrors were there nonetheless. I had, however, noted the presence of a line of rocks in the shallows and the rapids, that when taken together might serve as a series of islands in the manner of large stepping-stones. Of course, a pursuing creature might cross these as easily as I; but this creature was wounded, and though it could run on two legs, on less certain footing I was gambling that it would be happier on four, and so would be unable to reach for its prey.

As I leapt from rock to rock, I was aware of the beast following me; and when I reached the largest of the rock islands with the rapids all around, I looked back to see that it had left the shore. Along with all the pain and rage, there was a growing uncertainty in its movements. With more confidence, it might have strode across this natural causeway through the boiling stream and reached me in seconds; but by attempting to gain its balance with all four of its limbs on one stepping-stone at a time, it was severely compromising its ability to progress.

Here was my chance. And just as well, for I had reached the last island and could run no farther. With my back against the rock, I reloaded and took aim. Spray from the river was lashing me, but while running I had kept the gun held high, and my ammunition was dry. My target was no more than fifteen yards away, and the size of a house.

My gun spoke, and my bullet did not miss. And yet my pursuer did not drop; he roared in pain, again that terrible sound that I’d encountered nowhere else in nature, and rose to his full height so that those great, broad claws could clutch at a second chest wound. Though my large-bore rounds were doing certain damage and had the power to drop an elephant, even these were not enough to stop him on their own.

Fortunately, I had two good allies to come to my rescue; the force of gravity, and the forces of the river. In rising so hastily, the creature caused himself to overbalance and now he lost his footing. He hit the surface with an almighty splash and immediately began to tumble away from me in the raging current. That on its own would have been enough, but there was more to follow. Within seconds, shadow-shapes were rising from the depths and flocking to him.

What I felt then was something close to pity, as teeth fastened on his body and one tentacle after another wrapped over the beast and finally drew him under, silencing his dying cries. He went down like a pig among crocodiles, the whole angry, battling mess being borne away around a bend in the river as I watched.

I took the precaution of reloading before I returned to the bank. There were more of the creatures about, after all, and one or more of them might return. However, all was silent as I crossed the site of the nest, and after listening for a while I was confident that all had flown. I called out to Pablo, and after a few moments was rewarded with the sight of his cautious face peeping out from the bushes.

I do not think that any man has ever expressed his gratitude to another more eloquently, or with greater enthusiasm, than that simple peon in his moment of deliverance. While he did not quite grovel at my feet nor place my foot upon his head, his actions left me in no doubt as to his feelings. I raised him, and by one means and another gave him to understand that while I appreciated his thanks, there were still dangers all around us. In this more somber mood, I supervised as he used the broken gourd to scrape out shallow graves for the remains of those fallen Englishmen. After a few simple prayers, to which a lack of comprehension didn’t prevent Pablo from adding a broken and charming Amen, I led our way back to the main camp.

There was a cheer when we were spotted emerging from the jungle and it was seen that I had not returned alone, but the general jubilation turned to sadness as my party learned the fate of their own people. That night, while Pablo celebrated with his fellow camaradas and no doubt embroidered the tale of his rescue until my actions gained some heroic stature, ours was a more subdued campfire gathering. During my absence, this new camp had been set up within a palisade of sharpened pickets with their points angled outward; though we heard many a worrying sound from the jungle that night, we suffered no further attack.

When all of our injured had either died or recovered sufficiently to travel, we broke camp and moved on. We followed the trampled “road” until we reached the clearing by the river. I was surprised to see how the broad avenue was already beginning to vanish, and how all signs of the creatures’ nesting were gone. Fresh bamboo was growing up through the broken vegetation, and I was unable even to locate the shallow graves of our lost companions in order to point out their final resting places. Everything in the jungle consumed something else, I concluded; and failing that, the jungle consumed itself.