Taterskin & The Eco Defenders: Book 2, Chapter 43
Book 2 ("Tell It to Future Generations"), Chapter 43 of 56
CHAPTER 43
Since Albert and I and our team had such a large perimeter to patrol, and because much of it was mountainous and hard to traverse, with few roads, and the high and craggy Andes with its volcanoes were located to the west, it was a while before we received reports of any attempted incursions into our mostly inaccessible area.
When we did eventually hear some things, it was usually from the area to the south of us, such as from the region around Brasilia, and from the Pantanal.
Most of the people we saw were tourists and visitors to Mount Roraima and the waterfalls, where we had taken a little vacation ourselves. They were here to see the sights and enjoy the beauty, not to despoil the land.
It turned out that we ourselves were an outright sensation, a sort of living tourist attraction. Well, not Albert or Rovette or me so much, but the pups were, and even more so Tubthumper, Chumbawumba, and Ocero. People had expected to see exotic creatures in the Amazon, but they were not expecting to see African animals such as Elephants and Rhinos.
For those reasons (the bad guys staying away from us and the good guys seeking us out), the innate intimidation factor of the larger members of our squad wasn’t put to practical use. Tubthumper, Chumbawumba, and Ocero became the main attraction for the youngsters among our visitors, several of whom availed themselves of the opportunity to ride on these gentle giants. That is, they are gentle when not provoked by evil people — especially by those who would ruin the masterpiece of a planet we all live on.
Things were going completely differently in the other two areas. In the Pantanal swamp to the south, Chapawee and the three “Dinosaurs” (Terri was a genuine bona fide prehistoric, but was actually a Pterosaur, not a Dinosaur, to be technical about it, and Rinky and Drako only looked the part) had met with stiff opposition from groups who were dead set on continuing their ranching, logging, and mining operations within the Amazon.
Although definitely taken aback at the sight of these particular Eco Defenders, and perturbed that they had been able to rustle up as many compatriots in the rivers and wetlands as they had, the undesirables pushed back, trying to outflank, outmaneuver, outwit, and, if necessary, out-wait our team there.
Chapawee tried to reason with them, but that didn’t work, as they lacked the apparatus needed to be reasonable (a heart). They had only dollar signs in their eyes (or, to localize the expression to the Amazon, they had only reals in their eyes). This myopic view of life prevented them from seeing things from any other perspective than what would benefit them the most in the here and now. More accurately stated, what they mistakenly thought would benefit them the most in the here and now. In truth, what would have ultimately benefited them the most would have been to adopt our perspective, but they were too hard-headed and hard-hearted to comprehend that.
It became painfully obvious that they didn’t care about what was best for all, or best for the earth. So the only recourse Chapawee had was to warn them of the consequences of further obstinacy on their part.
“We will not harm you physically,” she told them, “But we will harm you where it will hurt you even more: in the pocketbook.”
Chapawee whistled loudly and in almost no time was surrounded by the animals monitoring the situation from places of concealment nearby. Some of them were hiding in plain sight by means of their camouflage and ability to stand stock still without blinking. Others came down from the trees, out from the forest floor, up from the river, or on the wing.
Among these were not only Terri and the now-enormous Drako and Rinky, but also a candle of Tapirs, a raft of Giant Otters, a pod of Caimans, a herd of Capybaras, a troupe of Howler Monkeys, a knot of Emerald Tree Boas, and a flock of Scarlet Macaws, who had been foraging on the sodium-rich clay on the riverbank.
“Esteemed animals,” she addressed them, “Spread the word up and down the river and on all roads and trails leading into the forest: These men,” and she then pointed at our adversaries, “Are not to be allowed within the refuge. Keep them out by any means necessary.”
“How do you expect to stop us? There are more of us than there are of you, and we are men, with machines!”
“Think again,” said a man we had not seen before as he stepped out of the forest and walked forward. He was wearing a headdress and carrying a bow in his hand and had a quiver full of arrows on his back. Following him was a group arrayed and equipped identically, except that some of them were carrying slingshots instead of bows, and had a bag of rocks hanging at one side of their belt. It was said of these slingers that each one of them were accurate to a hairbreadth and would never miss their target.
They were Terena warriors. They had heard about what was happening with the Eco Defenders and had decided to lend their support to us. They, too, were against the big ranches and farms and mines and logging operations in the rainforest, especially when these operations were brazenly located on their ancestral property.
“We stand with Chapawee,” the leader of the Terena told the one who had boasted of their numbers and firepower. “We ask you to leave. If you refuse to, you will be ... persuaded to leave, let’s put it that way.”
One of the Terena warriors was of a somewhat melodramatic bent, and had a rather macabre sense of humor, and so told the ranchers that he would allow them an opportunity to save their ranches. “If you allow us to attempt to shoot a pineapple off your head with our bow and arrow, you might be allowed to stay.”
“Might? Why do you say, ‘Might’?”
“If we hit the pineapple, you must agree to leave; if we miss, you may remain.”
“We can remain if you miss the pineapple?” one of the ranchers verified. “But where will the arrow go if you miss the pineapple?”
“Who knows? Probably somewhere close to the pineapple.”
The ranchers were not overlong in rejecting the dare; it was not so much that they questioned the accuracy of the archers, but that they harbored doubts about how motivated the warriors would be to aim for the pineapples instead of something else “close to the pineapple,” as they had put it.
And so, as usually happened in these kinds of instances, the men, set on pursuing their materialistic ambitions and excessively greedblind, continued to insist that they would continue in their endeavors no matter what Chapawee and the Terena warriors said or threatened.
They, though, woefully underestimated our resolve and resources. Seeing that they wouldn’t listen to logic or respond to reason, Chapawee, the warriors, and the animals broke away and formed a conclave a few yards away.
The animals looked to Chapawee as their leader. The Terena didn’t mind this; all they cared about was that together, they would keep the interlopers off their land, and drive out those who had already made incursions.
Chapawee sent the Howler Monkeys back to their treetops to broadcast the message that ranchers, farmers, miners, and loggers were to be driven out of the jungle and no more of them would be allowed in. Specifically, no vehicles could enter the Basin, and those who came on foot or in canoes on the rivers would not be allowed to carry firearms, gasoline, or gasoline-powered machinery. The exact manner in which the animals implemented this directive would be left up to them. They would be allowed to use their own imagination and species-specific abilities, talents, and methods.
The Terena said they were going to lead the biggest cattle drive of history, freeing the Cows and Bulls kept on the big ranches.
Chapawee, protected by Tapirs, Capybaras, Emerald Tree Boas, and by the unpredictable Terri as well as the dinosaurish Rinky and Drako, would give the would-be polluters and deforesters one final warning. If they didn’t heed it, our team would disable their vehicles by emptying the fuel tanks and replacing the void with sand, mud, water, and clay.
The Bull Sharks, Dolphins, Manatees, Arapaima, and Caimans would tip over any canoes the interlopers dared to take into the newly-designated Amazon Basin Reserve. Those thus spilled out into the rivers would be given “love bites” by Piranhas to convince them of their need to seek the safety of the shore and return no more.
It would be the job of those working the interior of the forest to evict those who didn’t belong there. Those displaced would also be educated as to why the Basin needed to be preserved in a pristine condition and, when they balked (as we knew they would), would be shown the wisdom of complying.
The interlopers would be allowed to drive their vehicles peacefully out of the area, never to return as forest destroyers. If they refused to do this, though, their vehicles would be impounded and they would be forced to walk out under their own power, or be driven out — herded out, as it were — by the animals of the forest.
The Terena warriors wasted no time in further talk. They disappeared into the forest, on their way to the cattle ranches to liberate the Bovines and escort them out of the Basin.
Chapawee, with her entourage, returned to the would-be interlopers, who had been waiting impatiently and who now wondered at the Terena warriors’ sudden departure.
Taterskin & The Eco Defenders (in paperback, kindle, or hardcover) is available here.