LAST OF THE JUNGLE RHINO
We’re woken with a jolt by panicked shouting in the forest. When the commotion is followed by thunderous crashing just outside our tent, we’re well and truly pulled from our jetlagged slumber. It’s 4am in the Javanese jungle – we arrived and made camp just a few hours ago, exhausted after an eight-hour trek. Pulling on our jungle-wear, expedition partner Kyle McBurnie and I cautiously head out to investigate.
We find Chenglus, our expert tracker, sitting by the campfire looking dazed and unnerved – his mouth hanging open in shock as he slowly shakes his head. I gently ask what’s happened. Chenglus tells me that he made a small fire on the beach by the lagoon next to our makeshift camp and slept there, until he was woken by a furious snorting sound, as a bull rhino the size of a small car charged out of the darkness towards him.
He believes the rhino had seen the fire from the forest and wanted to take a closer look (perhaps out of territorial defiance, perhaps sheer curiosity), entering the lagoon and wading across its breadth. When the animal was within a few metres of Chenglus,
