Dark Peril
overhead and other times diving through the trees, stirring up the wildlife until the din was frenzied and so loud the jaguar considered roaring a warning. She decided to ignore the bird and follow her instincts, moving on toward her goal.
    Hills and slopes were riddled with freshwater streams and creeks flowing over rocks and vegetation as they rushed toward the larger rivers. White-water rivers, heavy with sediment, appeared the color of creamy coffee. Rich with life, the waters were home to the rare river dolphins. The black-water rivers looked clear and perhaps more inviting, as they were sediment free, but were almost lifeless, unnaturally clear, tinted reddish-brown and poisoned by the tannins seeping into the ground from the rotting vegetation. The jaguar knew to hunt in the rich waters of the white-water rivers, easily flipping the fish onto the banks when she was hungry.
    Ticks and leeches swarmed up, meeting the heat and rain with a frenzy and in need of blood, searching for any warm-blooded prey. The jaguar ignored the tiresome bloodsuckers, which were attracted by her warmth and the open wound on her left flank. Thunder boomed, shaking the trees, an ominous portent of trouble. A sloth moved with infinite slowness, its algae-covered fur green, helping it to blend into the leaves of the tree it was currently dining in. But the jaguar was very aware of it above her head, as she was aware of all things in the forest—aware the harpy eagle continued to dog her every move, high in the sky, in spite of night stirring. Instead of bothering her, the unusual presence soothed her, quieted the growing dread and the utter weariness as the jaguar plodded steadily through the maze of vegetation.
    The tangle of lianas grew thicker as the jaguar padded silently through the growth, over fallen logs and through umbrella-like leaves dripping with water. She moved with complete assurance, a sea of spots flowing through heavy brush in spite of her obvious limp. The sound of water was deafening as she approached the slopes where water burst through the bank and tumbled to the river below.
    As the great cat moved through the forest and the raptor floated in the sky, monkeys and birds called a warning to the peccaries, deer, tapir and paca that either predator might consider a meal. The howlers shrieked fearfully, calling to one another. A jaguar’s bite could crack their skulls like a nut. Able to climb trees or swim with equal ability, she could hunt on land, in trees or in the water. The harpy eagle could easily rip prey from a branch, dropping silently from a lookout perch to snatch an unwary victim.
    Ropes of muscle rippled beneath the jaguar’s sleek, spotted fur. Her rosettes held more spots than those of a leopard, and her pelt was the color of both night and day shadows, allowing her to move like a silent phantom through the forest. Golden sable marked with rosettes, some considered her fur a map of the night sky and hunted her for the treasure.
    She moved with nobility in spite of her obvious injury, prowling her domain, commanding respect from all the other occupants of the forest. Built for stealth and ambush, she had retractable claws and vision six times better than a human’s. The animals shivered as she passed, called warnings and watched with wary eyes, but she kept climbing, skirting the thin strip of land that barely covered the top of the waterfall, knowing from past trips that the plant-covered slim bridge was a treacherous hazard waiting for the unwary to place a wrong step. She went the more circuitous route, pushing her way through the dark ropy tangle of vines and roots, into the darker interior.
    Slate black feathers covered the wings and back of the harpy eagle. The white mantle was striped with the same black, and a black band collared the powerful raptor so that the gray head stood out with the double plume cresting it. The black and white striped leggings led to enormous talons nearly the size of a grizzly
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