Ndundulu

There is a forest with a dark spirit
Which throws at you unforeseen challenges
Mudslides along paths which make you clamber desperately
One step forward two steps back
Then rewards you with glimpses of bar-tailed trogons and their bright red bellies
But for every reward there are more dares
At night, your tent turns black with army ants as the camp cook throws cinders at them from the fire
encircling you and tent with kerosene – will I burn here?
Black flies awaken you. They lay their slick white eggs upon your tent.
You are determined to persevere stiff-backed
To see that strange high-headed monkey that hid from scientists until this century
You battle the mud, suspending fury at the sight of a tall pink orchid
And cross fast-flowing rivers marveling at the red fruits of muria mbega and the glow of epiphytic impatiens 20 metres above your head
Then something stirs ever so faintly at your feet, you could have crushed it
The tiny eye-ringed duiker baby now lies still in the ferns
Before you can go further the sky opens and a wall of rain falls unremittingly
There is nowhere to hide
With camp shelters full of water, we crowd around the cook and fire taking comfort in sips of spiced, warming tea
But then our stomachs churn from swigs of rivers' runoff
This is no place for humans and our frailty
A blast of thunder explodes and deafens us
The forest spirit laughs
After ten days we have seen not much more than shadows
of the cautious kipunji
And I entrust their custody to this unforgiving place
May it never welcome humans more than it did us
Humbly, we abscond in the rain