The world was still bathed in silvery moonlight, but the fire had burned down to nothing. Bear kicked dry earth over it to put out the last few sparks, and then said it was breakfast time.

Evie was hungry. She tucked into the piece of baobab fruit without hesitating. The biltong that she washed down with a drink of water was pretty good too. When she looked up, she knew she was smiling.

“Tastes good, huh?” said Bear.

“Best breakfast ever!” Evie beamed.

Soon they were walking again, and Evie watched all the colour return to the world. Orange light began to blaze between the peaks ahead of them. The air turned yellow and then white, as if the world was starting all over again.

Soon the grass seemed greener and Evie saw trees growing close together ahead of them. They were about thirty metres tall, with graceful trunks and branches.

“Those are fever trees,” Bear said. He sounded pleased. “They’re a good sign because they grow near water.”

And then –

“Ow!”

Something stung her neck. It really hurt.

“Ah, yes.” Bear slapped at his own neck. “Mosquitoes also like the water. So we need to make ourselves less appealing for a hungry mozzie.” He bent down and rubbed his hands in the soft earth, then smeared the dirt over his neck and face. “You need to do this too, Evie. They can’t bite through dirt.”

“Got it,” Evie said and she quickly copied Bear.

Soon Evie recognised the smell you always got at home before a rain shower. The air was damp. The mosquitoes were whining past more and more now, though they didn’t land on her face or her hands. The muddy facemask was working.

And then Evie heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

Splash!

Water! Beautiful, clean water.

“We’ve definitely found water,” Bear whispered as they paused by the fever trees. “But it sounds like someone else got there first … Tread carefully.” Along with the splashing, they could hear all sorts of animal grunts and snorts.

Evie saw a wide band of silver light up ahead. They both peered through the undergrowth until they saw what was making the noise.

“Hippos!” she gasped.

There were four hippopotamuses in the river, their ears and eyes sticking up out of the water, and one standing on the far bank. Its dark, tubby body was the size of a rhino. It had to weigh a ton or more, standing on its four short legs. When it ran into the water, its body sent up a massive bow wave of water that washed all the way to the far bank.

The hippos looked harmless and pretty cute. But then one of them yawned. Its huge jaws opened wider than Evie had ever seen any animal open its mouth – at least a metre. Its fangs were almost half a metre long and it looked powerful enough to bite a person in two.