JUNGLE FEVER by Granny Annie
The island could be seen across the ocean in the fog. The jungle that surrounded us was less appealing, though the elegant hotel made up for the massive foliage that surrounded us.
We sipped our drinks in the shade and despite all the beauty we look forward to going home. The travel agent had not said the mosquitoes and other jungle infestations and animals would feel so threatening. It would still be days before the boat returned to pick us up.
The third day dawned and we could hear a soft distant drum beat. It was echoing through the forest. The rhythm of the sounds grew louder and closer. The employees and other guests of the hotel begin to scurry around. They grabbed their belongings and moved in a panic toward the exit. We were totally confused about what was about to happen. We had not yet seen the swarm of pygmy warriors descending on our hotel. These natives were armed with spears, knives and poison blow darts. They had shrunken heads as decorations on what little clothing they wore.
Our tour guides had assured us this was a safe place for a vacation. Those tour guides had already disappeared with the fleeing guests. My husband noticed two large baskets and quickly turned one over me and told me to crouch down as he turned the other over himself and we quietly stayed hidden against the wall.
It took several hours for the carnage to end. We could barely breath and did not even whisper to each other. My husband finally determined it would be safe for us to vacate our basket havens.
We were at the water's edge the last few days waiting for the boat. There was never a more glorious sight than the appearance of our rescue transport arriving to pick us up. We shared the story of what happened to the others. We were so very happy to be able to escape this island and return home.
The boat moved away from the shore but nor before we heard the drums once more and rejoiced that we were just out of the range of spears and darts being hurled toward us.