text: [Themes: family friendly, historical]
  
  You spend a few days with the Jaroha, slowly learning their customs, and their day-to-day life. Each morning, you go in groups down to the river to wash, and then after a hearty breakfast, Faorame organises everybody into groups for the day. There is always much to be done: hunting (with bows and arrows) for pigs and fish, fetching chooi wood, with which the bows and arrows are made, foraging for plants, making fishing nets and household items, fixing the huts, cooking, and finally teaching the children to do all of these tasks. After having tried out all of these jobs, you decide weaving fishing nets and foraging for plants are your favourite; the former because you can let your mind wander or try and understand some of what your fellow Jarohas are saying, and the latter because you have a keen eye, and can marvel at the knowledge of the Jarohas. For example, honey is highly-prized, but the bees defend their produce ferociously; so, the Jaroha chew the sap of a bee-repelling plant, Ooyekwalin, then spray it out at the bees to get at the honeycomb. You hear several clever tricks like this with wonder, and your little notebook certainly profits from these expeditions as well.
  
  One person without whom you wouldn't have able to survive is Isaac. He provides you with detailed explanations of what is happening all the time, so you never feel isolated or cut off. And with his help, you begin to understand some basic words in the Jarohan tongue, such as thank you, look, river and sleep. In the evening, you always love to hear some of their stories, which are always based around jungle animals, or listen to their rich, floating songs. When you don't know how to say something, you act it out, and the Jaroha love to try and guess what you mean. After the second day, when you come back from hunting with your walking trousers drenched in sweat, you consent to wearing the red loincloth. You're beginning to feel like a true Jaroha man.
  
  Five days after arriving, when everyone is sat around a steaming breakfast, you ask about the Gigantopithecus. Of course, you don't know the word for monkey yet, so you get up and jump around, chittering and looking alert. Immediately understanding, the Jarawas nod vigorously. Confused, you look around at Isaac, who is listening to Faorame.
  
  "Faorame says that the Jarawa community respect monkeys highly, for their swiftness, intelligence, and ease in the tree tops."
  
  "That's interesting- although I was talking about the bones of a giant ape, which I'm searching for. Would Faorame know anything about that?"
  
  "Oh, we saw a man come running through here a month ago, holding some bones, but not enough for a full skeleton. He came from a dangerous route, where many of our people have perished. Faorame urges you not to go, and he says that if you still want to, he cannot risk sending anyone with you. He hopes this will dissuade you from going, as there is almost no chance of survival."
  
  You don't say anything for a long time. Your life here, with the Jarawa, is heavenly and you could quite happily forget about the Gigantopithecus, and stay here forever. Maybe it doesn't matter if you don't find it; your search brought you to this place, and maybe that's what counts.
  
  On the other hand, this is the reason you came to India, and you know that you'll always wonder what would have happened if you don't choose to go. Either way, after your head start over all the other naturalists, they must have caught up to you by now, so you need to decide quickly.
  
  > choose to go anyway
  While of course you'll bear Faorame's warnings in mind, this search is what has been motivating you for the past month, and you aren't about to abandon it in the face of a little danger.
  
  "I appreciate you concern, Faorame, and it's understandable that you don't want to put any of your people at risk, however I am determined to go." Faorame's face is grave, and he says,
  
  "Your choice fills me with worry and regret, but we Jaroha respect one another's wishes. Everything should be ready for you in one hour. And in the meantime, I have something to discuss with the Elders." And he hurries off in the direction of three or four senior men and women, who, oblivious to what's going on, have their faces turned up to the sun.
  
  Fifty minutes later, your basket (a wooden wicker basket that straps onto one's back) is ready, and you are busy saying goodbye to everyone. If all goes well, you should see them again in no less than five or six hours, but for some reason nobody seems to think you will.
  
  > Tracking the ape
  You depart. At first, the path is gentle and flat, but about an hour later, it starts to get hillier, with stones and roots lying in wait on the floor for any inattentive foot. You go on for a few more hours, walking more and more slowly, not because you're tired, but because you're afraid that you've missed the bones. Somehow you don't think they'll just be lying in the middle of the path, and you wonder how Milton got the leg, and why it was only those bones he found.
  
  Hours pass, and, if you could have seen the sun, it would probably be high up in the sky, indicating midday, and also, lunch. So you pause briefly, munching on a pre-prepared vegetable mixture. However, all this food and no drink leaves you very thirsty, and you walk on, but this time also keeping an ear out for the sound of running water. Thankfully, this comes to your attention not a few minutes later, and you carefully pick your way through the trees to a little stream, and pull off the basket. Cupping your hands together, you slurp some gratefully up.
  
  However, just as you stand up, something on the opposite bank catches your eye. Some of the many bushes and shrubs lining the stream have been trampled, obviously by something very heavy. It couldn't possibly be...?
  
  Eager to find out, you strap the basket back on, jump over the stream onto the other side, and start following the tracks, which are easy to follow even for someone as inexperienced as you. These tracks must mean that the Gigantopithecus has come along here several times, and so when it died it took a long time for the shrubs to start to grow back, but even so they should have done so in two or three months, therefore the ape can't have died that long ago. The ape has forged an apathetic path that only gives way to the unyielding trees. On and on it goes, and unconsciously you increase your pace, desperate to reach the end.
  
  Then you reach a fork in the road; it suddenly occurs to you that this ape probably had a whole network of paths, and you'll have to be very clever if you want to find the bones before nightfall. After thinking hard, you take the right-hand path that seems fairly well-trodden- the more well-trodden, the closer you should be to their nest. Working on this logic, you pick from several more paths – right, left, left, left, right, left, right – and it works to your advantage.
  
  After an hour or more of this guesswork, and after passing the same spot three times, you reach a jagged wall of rock, around ten metres high, where the face of a steep hill must have collapsed. There is a tiny crack about half way down, which widens and widens until it becomes a shallow cave - perfect shelter for a tall, hulking beast. All around this cave, the grass is practically ground into the earth. And even though you know the beast is dead –Milton's find proved that- you approach somewhat tentatively.
  
  A large part of the cave is taken up by an enormous nest, woven out of sticks and leaves- it could probably accommodate eight men comfortably. And the other overwhelming factor is the smell; you should have expected it, considering there's recently been the equivalent of four rotting bodies in here. You have no shirt to cover your mouth and nose, so try and ignore the stench. Where are the bones? Eventually, you spot them, lying in a dark corner. Shouting out in joy, you race towards them. You pull out Milton's notes and compare the two- yes, they're the same, you've found them! You can't stop smiling and laughing, and as you bundle all the bones into your wicker basket and put it back on, you imagine your parents face when they read the paper, and see the name of their disinherited son!
  
  Then, suddenly you find out three things all at once. These three things are that Faorame was right when he said this path was dangerous, why Milton only came away with the bones of only one leg, and that your parents will never read about their son in the paper.
  
  Because blocking the entrance to the cave is the 10-foot high, dark, hulking, hairy figure of a live Gigantopithecus. You only have time to think, He'd look good in a loincloth, before he picks you up with an ear-splitting roar, piercing something with those sharp claws, and throws you a good ten yards against a tree.
  
  It's a very good thing you have that wooden wicker basket on your back (although not so good for the ape bones), and it protects you from the majority of the blow. Dazed and winded, through your tear-filled eyes you can see a black blob moving about in the cave. What on earth can it be looking for? Then, realising it's in the wicker basket, you panic.
  
  Save yourself or have one last shot at your dream?
  
  > drop the basket and run
  You prefer to keep your life rather than a few mangy old bones. As quietly as possible, you place the bag on the jungle floor, making sure the bones are visible, and retreat. Keep calm... keep calm... keep calm... run! You reach the path and make a dash for it. Well, you try to, anyway. After the first few feet, your left leg gives way and you tumble to the floor. As it turns out, when the ape grabbed you with those long, sharp claws, he ripped away a good chunk of your left thigh; it's bleeding freely, and now your terror has worn off, it hurts. Ah well, it's only about three hours back to the Jarawa camp, and maybe somebody'll find you before then. Maybe. You get up and start walking, dragging your left foot along behind you.
  
  Time trickles by imperceptibly, until you've been trudging along for more than an hour. Even now, your wound hasn't stopped bleeding, and you're starting to feel rather faint. Your right leg, which is doing all the work, is screaming for relief, but you're determined keep on going for however long it takes to reach the camp; if you stop to rest, you might not be able to start again.
  
  Having had lots of time to mull things over, you decide that when you reach the Jaroha –when, not if- you're going to remain there permanently, if Faorame will let you. You certainly won't miss your old life back in England!
  
  To pass the time, you hum an old lullaby your mother used to sing to you. Except you can't remember the words, so you sing the one Jaroha song you know instead:
  
  The trees still grow, and the river still flows,
  
  No matter what happens, that you know.
  
  When you go to sleep, do not fear,
  
  The trees and the river, they'll still be here.
  
  Sleep seems like a very tempting idea at the moment – a little break can't hurt, you'll just sit down for a minute...
  
  The following day, you wake up, not in the land of the dead as you'd feared, but outside in the sunshine, surrounded by familiar huts with green roofs. You stretch deliciously, and find your leg is bandaged up with red cloth. All around you, everyone is preparing to go out for the day, probably on some hunting expedition. When Faorame hurries past, you call out a greeting, and he turns, delighted that you're awake. Luckily Isaac is nearby, and is called to translate. And as soon as he arrives, Faorame launches into speech.
  
  "William! It's wonderful to see you awake and looking healthy- a group coming back from foraging last night came across you lying on the path. You'd fainted from loss of blood, and at one point we thought you might be handicapped forever. But don't worry," he says, seeing your alarmed face. "Your wound isn't as bad as we thought, and it should heal in a matter of weeks." You think guiltily of all the trouble you must have caused him.
  
  "I must thank you once again, Faorame, for saving my life, and warning me against going down there, advice which I so foolishly ignored." You then recount briefly what happened. "I don't think the ape will bother us, it is big but there are many of us." Realising that you now say 'us' instead of 'you', you remember what you decided last night, and go for it. "I must also thank you, in fact all of the Jaroha tribe, for the kindness and hospitality you have shown me. I am very content here, and, if possible, I would like to stay." Faorame smiles broadly.
  
  "We are delighted that you choose to remain with us, and indeed, I have noticed this way of life suits you well. Welcome to our community."
  
  Content with your future, over the next few days you try and forget about the Gigantopithecus. And it works, mainly. The following days and weeks just flow into one another, as the slow Jaroha rhythm of life goes on. You become more adept at several things. Firstly cooking, with all the spices and herbs available in the jungle, and after a successful dinner you prepared for everyone, it gets added to your list of favourite tasks. Another improved skill is your grasp of the Jarohan language, as you slowly manage to form full sentences, albeit simple ones. Soon, you don't need Isaac to explain every word or ritual, although you still remain good friends. And finally, now that you are able to communicate directly to Jaroha men and women, and laugh and sing with them, your bond with them increases.
  
  You become particularly good friends with Namata, a woman about the same age as you, whose husband died when she was just nineteen (Jaroha men and women tend to marry at adolescence). She is particularly good at finding the fun in every situation, and often cheers you up if you make a mistake, for example when hunting, something she is very good at. However, Namata's speciality is telling stories, and her thrilling tales pass the time when you are assigned a slightly more boring job together.
  
  The months pass, the seasons change, and you become a respected member of the Jarawa tribe. Eventually, you marry Namata.
  
  Then, one night, twenty two years after arriving here, when everybody else is sleeping, you suddenly remember your old sketchbook, which you haven't opened in years. Rummaging as quietly as you can in the hut so as not to wake Namata, you find it, covered in dust, with yellowed pages. You creep outside and sit, your back against a nearby tree. Leafing through it, you stop at the page you'd reserved for the glorious discovery of the Gigantopithecus.
  
  You've never sorrowed over your decision not to venture back down that path, and to stay with the Jaroha. Although it must have caused your parents, your aunt and uncle, and your old friends a lot of pain and worry, you knew the result was worth it. And until now, you've managed to convince yourself that you didn't fail, not really, seeing as you did find the bones, you just didn't take them with you.
  
  But now, seeing that blank page in front of you, a tiny seed of regret begins to worm its way into your heart.