The Plantation - Di Morrissey [70]
Julie reached for her camera, zooming in on the orang utans who were now busy eating, preening and ignoring their audience. She had no idea how long the two of them stood and watched. Julie was so fascinated that she stopped taking photos until Angie offered to take one of her with the orangutans in the background. Before she had a chance to do so, the two of them were interrupted by jarringly loud voices as a small group of tourists, red-faced with the heat and exertion, hurried towards them along the track, stopping when they saw Julie and Angie.
Quickly the apes in the trees above them were spotted, and there was much talk, exclamations and activity with video cameras. Julie was annoyed at the intrusive banter and what she considered to be banal remarks.
‘We saw them eating at the feeding platform. Much closer than this,’ said one man.
‘But this is how they do it in the wild,’ replied a woman.
‘Get the baby to turn around so we can see its face. Do something, George.’
George clicked his tongue, hissed and made kissing noises before clapping his hands, with a commanding, ‘Hey!’
A Japanese tourist, who hadn’t taken his eye away from his camera screen, spoke rapidly to his wife and it was apparent he didn’t approve of George’s antics either. Nor, apparently, did the orangutans, and they rapidly swung away from sight.
George looked around and addressed the tour guide. ‘Is that it? They coming back or what? Where are the rest of them? We were told there must be thirty or forty in here.’
‘If the trees are in fruit, they’ll be high up, looking for it. Look, there’s a macaque,’ said the guide, relieved to be able to point out the quick, pretty-faced grey monkey.
The tour group stood around, mopping dripping brows, then, as several people began to head back along the path towards the headquarters, a new female appeared. Like a trapeze artist she swiftly launched herself from highwire to tree branch, as if deliberately showing off. The tourists were delighted.
‘That’s Amber,’ said the guide.
Angie, looking elsewhere, nudged Julie and then said something in Malay to the tour guide.
There was new movement in the treetops. Amber gave a shriek, and, swinging into a tree opposite the group, gave them all an excellent view.
‘Ritchie is coming,’ said Angie.
‘Who’s that? One of the males?’ said Julie in a low voice.
‘He’s the oldest dominant male,’ said Angie. ‘He’s chasing Amber to try and mate with her. But I don’t think she’s interested.’
The group had fallen silent, surprised by the apparent strength of the approaching male. Then there was a collective gasp as the huge male lazily heaved himself onto a nearby branch and sat, staring at the tourists. Everyone shrank back slightly as the orangutan contemplated them with keen and intelligent eyes.
‘Looks like my mother’s shag carpet,’ joked George. ‘Or Marge Simpson on a bad hair day.’
Amber was not amused, and she took flight, scurrying along tree branches and then suddenly landing directly above the group.
The tour guide signalled everyone to move back. ‘Go slowly, just keep away. Ritchie will be coming after her.’
And sure enough the massive male reached for a branch that didn’t look capable of carrying his weight, and then lumbered to the ground. He was close to the size of a very large man.
There were squeals and the crowd stumbled over each other as they retreated.
‘Don’t panic. He’s only interested in the female. Remember you are in his territory. This isn’t a zoo, it’s the jungle,’ said the guide.
Angie took Julie’s hand and pulled her forward, pointing at a tree stump. ‘Sit there. Just be still. He’s not interested in us.’ Angie stood beside her as Julie sat on the stump, her eyes glued to Ritchie. He was standing, gazing up at the female orangutan who was also sitting still, but looking around, obviously plotting her next move. In an instant, Ritchie moved, so quickly that Julie was amazed and the rest of the tourists hurried even further away.
Despite his great size, the male