The Jungle, a gnarly story.

Essay by whatwhatcaptainJunior High, 9th grade February 2006

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In the jungle, it is kill or be killed. The food chain has no dominant species. Martin Fuller and his crew were just another pack of humans fighting for their lives. Even though they may not have known it, they were not the ones stalking the beasts; the beasts were stalking them. Fuller and his crew of native guides, biologists, and camera operators were deep in the Congo. It was their second week in the scorching hot African jungle. Fuller was leading the expedition deep into the Congo to a place called Black Crystal Peak. There, they would hopefully be able to take footage of the gorillas living in the area.

Fuller and his crew trekked through the dense brush, listening to the sounds of animals nearby. It was reaching noon, which meant sweltering heat, and nowhere to hide. The camera people were falling behind from having to carry all their equipment.

Fuller was worried that they would get lost, so he asked the guide if they could slow down.

"No," the tall, dark skinned man shot back at Fuller, "too dangerous. Jaguar hunting time. Keep moving."

Fuller now understood the hurried pace the guides had gained when they entered the Crystal Valley. "Some men are falling behind, we must let them catch up or they will be lost!" Fuller did not really want to stop either, the thought of prowling jaguars was enough to make him wish he had brought along more weapons. However, there was no question about leaving the camera operators behind. Unfortunately, the guides would not stop. They apparently did not think it was necessary to keep everyone alive. Fuller could not get them to stop, so he and three others stayed in the rear to help the men speed up their pace.

The hot...