They were marching through the jungle, a small detachment of eight. Two went ahead, clearing a path, the four in the middle had their rifles ready, and the two behind concealed their tracks. He looked back once or twice, fascinated by their thoroughness—sweeping a broad coconut frond across to eliminate footprints, then scattering dried leaves and dirt. No one could have guessed a patrol had passed through here, or that there’d ever been a path between these trees. They were forest spirits, magic, leaving nothing behind, unlike the clumsy government men whose rubbish they came across from time to time. Empty tins. Bits of torn uniform. Snapped branches.
They were hunting for supplies. On the way back they would gather firewood, but their main target was game. They hadn’t had meat for a while, and one of the look-outs had reported seeing a young elephant not far from the camp. If it was separated from its herd, they’d be able to kill it without much danger. Those who’d eaten elephant said it tasted like pork. The trunk was the best bit.
This wasn’t Xiongmin’s first time in the jungle, but he was excited nonetheless. They were going a good ten miles from camp. It had been months, and still he felt a twinge of unreality, unable to believe he’d found his way to this extraordinary place. The petty quarrels and compromises of Kuala Lumpur seemed distant and grubby now, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d allowed them to rule his life for such a long time. The only person he missed in the world outside was his mother, and he’d see her again soon enough, when the struggle was over—what pride he would bring to their reunion, having brought her peace at long last, justice for her and his father.
They tramped on through the permanent dusk of the jungle. The scouts did a fine job clearing creepers and undergrowth so they could march unimpeded. From time to time they swapped positions. No one had any experience tracking wildlife, but they’d planned to wander in a wide circle around the camp. If they got anywhere near the elephant, they’d hear it. If not, something else would present itself—a wild boar, a deer. They were definitely not returning empty-handed.
Lifeng walked in front of Xiongmin in confident strides. He was fascinated by her blunt-cut hair, swishing like a curtain over her pale neck, just touching her collar. Her backpack was as large as his, stuffed with first-aid equipment and water, plus a radio in case of emergency. He’d been surprised at first to see the women shouldering such burdens, but when he gallantly offered to help, they just laughed. We’re all equal here, they said, don’t think you can do anything we can’t.