Free Forest of the Pygmies by Isabel Allende

love them,” the missionary explained.
    “That’s horrible!”
    “In the mission in Rwanda, we had a two-year-old gorilla, the only one we were able to save. They killedthe mothers and sometimes brought the abandoned babies to us. They’re a sensitive breed and often die of melancholy . . . if they don’t die of hunger first.”
    “By the way, isn’t anybody hungry?” asked Alexander.
    “It was dumb to let that turtle go; we could have dined in style,” Angie noted.
    The persons responsible for the centenarian’s reprieve said nothing. Angie was right: In such circumstances they couldn’t allow themselves the luxury of sentimentality; survival came first.
    “How is it going with the radio in the plane?” asked Kate.
    “I’ve sent out several SOS calls, but I don’t think anyone received them. We’re a long way from nowhere. I’ll keep trying to contact Mushaha. I promised him we’d call in twice a day. Surely he’ll be surprised not to hear from us,” Angie replied.
    “At any moment someone will miss us and come looking for us,” Kate consoled them.
    “I think we’ve had it,” blubbered Angie. “My plane is in pieces, we’re lost, and we’re hungry.”
    “What a pessimist you are, woman! God may put a rope around your neck, but he doesn’t pull it tight. You’ll see, everything we need will be provided,” Brother Fernando replied.
    Angie seized the missionary’s arms and hoisted him a few inches off the ground, until they were eye to eye.
    “If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this pickle!” she spit out, shooting sparks.
    Kate intervened. “It was my decision to come here, Angie.”
    The group scattered across the beach, each occupied in his own project. With the help of Alexander and Nadia, Angie had managed to remove the propeller. After carefully examining it, she confirmed what she had suspected: They would not be able to repair it with the tools at hand. They were trapped.
    Joel hadn’t really believed that anything would strike at his primitive fishhook, so he nearly fell backward with surprise when he felt a tug on the line. Everyone came running to help him, and finally, after a long struggle, they hauled a good-sized carp from the water. The fish thrashed on the sand for some minutes, which was acute torture for Nadia, who couldn’t bear to see animals suffer.
    “It’s the way of nature, child. Some die so others can live,” Brother Fernando consoled her.
    He didn’t add that God had sent them the carp, which was what he truly believed, because he didn’t want to provoke Angie’s wrath anew. They cleaned the fish, wrapped it in leaves, and roasted it: Nothing had ever tasted so delicious. By then the clearing was blazing like an inferno. They improvised some shade, rigging canvas on long poles, and lay down to rest, observed by the monkeys and the large green lizards that had come out to soak in the sun.
    They were all drowsing, sweating beneath the insufficient shade of the canvas, when a veritable whirlwind blew in from the forest at the far end of the beach, raising clouds of sand. The furor of its arrival was so stupefying that at first they all thought it must be a rhinoceros. At closer view, however, they saw it was a huge boar, with bristly hair and menacing tusks. The beast was blindly charging the camp, giving them no time to grab the weapons they had laid aside during siesta. They barely had time to scramble away before it reached them, crashing against the poles that held up the canvas and sending everything to the ground. From the ruins of the tent, it observed them with malevolent eyes, huffing and snorting.
    As Angie ran to find her revolver, her movement caught the attention of the animal, which readied a new attack. Its front hooves raked the sand; it lowered its head and headed straight for Angie, whose considerable flesh presented a perfect target.
    Just as Angie’s fate seemed inevitable, Brother Fernando stepped between her and the boar,