I woke up with an ache in my legs, my arms, and my stomach. I was afraid of what I might see if I opened my eyes, because I knew I was dead. And I don’t think that pain was a good sign. Then, something fell on me, making me open my eyes. My backpack! I couldn’t close my eyes now. I looked around, and I was on top of… The plane! I rubbed my eyes. I was alive? No, it couldn’t be true. My eyes were playing tricks on me! But they weren’t. I scouted the area, and found that everyone was dead… Including James. The rest of my den died, but I survived. Oh, why did it have to be me? I looked inside my open backpack. Everything was singed and couldn’t be used except for my sleeping bag. My pocketknife was in my pocket. But uh oh, no whittling chip. I grabbed my sleeping bag and walked out into the woods. I found an open spot that I Might be able to make my temporary shelter in until I got rescued. I cut down a bunch of vines and started making a hammock in between two trees. When I was done, I patterned and cushioned it with leaves. Then, I made a giant pile of rocks and sticks on either side of the hammock until the pile seemed to be right beside it. I pulled the hammock up and went under. It was like a tiny house. I laid my sleeping bag down and then I started digging under the hammock. I came up a few feet away from it. Good enough. Then, I found the thickest and strongest pieces of wood and sticks I could find, and laid them on top of the two piles on the sides of my hammock. I carefully laid my bag on top of the hammock. Now I had some space under it. It was pretty dark, even in the morning, but it was warm. Good. I crawled into the hole and searched for a long stick. I found one, and started whittling it into a hunting spear. When I was done, I had a smooth, long spear. It took me hours to make it, but I soon finished, and went out to hunt. It turns out, hunting is harder than I thought. I caught a fat rabbit, but it was only luck. I hid behind a tree, and then jumped out to spear the rabbit! Without looking, it jumped. It hit a tree and died. Lucky me. That night, I made a fire and cut it up and roasted it. I ate it all because: 1. I didn’t have anything to preserve it with. And 2. I was starving to death. By around midnight I was finished. I crawled into my makeshift shelter and got in my sleeping bag. I fell asleep almost instantly.
The next morning I woke up shivering. Man, it was cold here. Instead of going to catch some breakfast, I balled up in my sleeping bag. I was still cold. I must’ve been there for hours because later when I got out I was sweating and it was HOT! I went down to find a lake to cool off in. After walking at least one kilometer, I found a clear, beautiful river, and I immediately wished I’d brought my spear. There were probably thousands of fish there, big and small, but they were also part of what made it so beautiful there. It was strange. How could a river like this be in the ugliest jungle in the world? I took of my clothes (I’m sure the fish didn’t mind) and swam around for a while. When I started to get cold again, I put my clothes back on and went back to my shelter. I heated up almost instantly. Man, it was hot here. By the time I got there, I was starving. I went out to spear some fish from a different lake, and I found one that was pretty nice, but only had minnows. I got my jacket and swooped up a big bunch of them. I went back to my shelter and roasted the flopping minnows over the fire. When they were smoking, I laid my jacket down and starting popping them in my mouth, one by one. They tasted like boiled peanuts, but much crunchier, and you could swallow the shell. I had so many that by the time I was so full that I needed to lay down, there were still some left. I decided to lay the leftovers outside my shelter. I was sure that it would attract something. Then I got an even better idea. I put 40 pointed sticks that I had whittled yesterday around the jacket so the that anything that came near would get it’s feet pricked, and not be able to run away. Then, I could eat it! Haha! No one ever thought of THAT before! I got in my sleeping bag, eager to find out what stupid animal would fall for my trap!
Apparently, tigers are stupid. I thought they were the symbols of wisdom, or like right behind the elephant or something like that, but they’re pretty dumb. Unfortunately, destructive killing power makes up for that dumbness. It all started when I got out of bed. I got my spear and peeked out at my trap. Wow! There was a tiger stuck there! I quietly sneaked out, and threw my spear at the tiger, which already looked pretty aggravated. The spear bounced of the tiger’s shiny fur, and it turned it’s head at me. Oh crud. The tiger lunged for me, but at just the right time, I turned around and hid behind the tree that held the front of my hammock. I started running, and the tiger crashed into my shelter. Now that was gone. This gave me a head start running from the tiger, but it caught up quickly. Then I remembered my hole. I HAD dug that just in case something attacked me. I ran around to the other side of my shelter. The tiger was getting closer. Almost there… The tiger was only about 20 feet behind me, and it was going fast. Almost there… The tiger made one final leap. There! I dived in the hole and slid in. The tiger came in right behind, clawing at my feet. I started kicking at it. BAD IDEA. It gripped my shoe with one giant paw. I kept kicking. I hit its face so it let go. I turned over to climb away, but the tiger’s claws came down on the side of my shin and scraped my shin. It was definitely going to be a scar. I screamed out loud and turned over again so I was lying on my back (And for the record, it was a boy scream, like AUUUUUUUUGH! It was NOT a girl scream). The tiger grabbed my shoe again and popped its head out of the hole. Now its head was shaped like a funny-looking sausage. I chuckled for a second and then came back to my senses. Oh yes, I forgot, I’m about to die! But the tiger’s claws were deep in my ankle, pulling me back. There was no escaping. This time, I wouldn’t cheat death. The tiger was still dragging me and it stopped once I was out of the hole. Its dirty mouth got my foot and prepared to feast. I wouldn’t die immediately, but I’d still be eaten alive and that was probably much worse. I turned me head to the side and started to close my eyes when I saw something that caught my eye. My spear! My left hand reached out for the spear, but it couldn’t get it. Come on… Come on… The tiger had ripped my shoe apart and was about to eat my foot when… Got it! I gripped the spear and passed it on to my right hand. The tiger’s teeth had closed around my foot when I whacked it in the face with my spear, causing it to kind of stand up, revealing its weak spot. In a split second, I raised the spear and stabbed the tiger in its underside! It fell on its side and, ignoring the sharp pain in my right leg, I stood up, took the spear out of the tiger’s belly, and finished it off! I was Daniel McMyers, world’s greatest adventurer ever!
After that, I found a saltwater stream and collected lots of salt to preserve the tiger meat. I could probably survive with this much meat for a month! After having a royal feast for dinner, I went to bed and dug another small hole for the meat to go. The next morning I had another royal wake-up feast. The meat tasted just as fresh as yesterday. Thank gosh for salt! And then the next day, nothing exciting happened, but the meat tasted exactly the same. The day after was just the same, but then I got a little Homesick. As the days went by, the meat got better, but I got worse. I fixed my shelter, my temporary home, but I was really missing my real home. With air conditioning, fresh milk (I was living off of stream water, which I’m sure you’re not supposed to do, but I was desperate), and most of all, no mosquitoes. I was ravaged with mosquito bites, and I was itching all over. I wrapped my wound with some gauze I found in my pocket, but it was really bloody. Then, one afternoon, when I was sure I would be here for the rest of my life, I heard a booming WHEW, WHEW, WHEW, WHEW. My head shot straight up. That sounded like a… helicopter! I ran towards the noise and saw a helicopter with a giant spotlight hovering over the plane, searching it for anything. So they weren’t going to come to see who died, or even get the bodies! Idiots. I found a really long stick and waved at the helicopter. The massive spotlight shined on me, nearly blinding me. The helicopter sent down a rope and a guy who looked like he was in GI Joe came right behind it. He grabbed me and climbed up. Don’t tell anyone this, but I hadn’t gotten any sleep for the last few days, so, like a baby, I fell asleep right there, in his arms.
So I got back home, happy to be away from all those mosquitoes, and under the protection of technology. I was interviewed for the news and I’ll bet there will soon be books written about this that say “Based on a true event”. People were always saying “How did you survive?” and “Was it horrible in the jungle?” But no. It was easy. I was happy to be home, but now I kind of wanted to be back in the jungle, as this had given me a newfound love for camping. That night, I slept outside.
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