Gold of the Gods by Bear Grylls Read Free Book Online Page A

at both ends and across the middle of
the raft, and then pulled together under
tension. A top layer of bamboo, laid crosswise,
strengthened the structure and formed
a deck.
    When they had finished, Beck went off
into the undergrowth; he reappeared a few
minutes later dragging more wood behind
him.
    'Mangrove,' he said. 'It's much harder
than balsa but grows just as fast. We can
make the mast out of this and lash bamboo
across it in a frame for the sail. The Indians
would have used palm leaves woven
together, but I seem to remember sleeping
in some cotton sheets last night.'
    As Christina set off back to the hacienda
to raid the linen cupboard, the boys lashed
together the mast and the bamboo frame for
the sail. Then they lowered the finished
structure into place through the circular
hole that Beck had cut in the deck. 'Perfect,'
he said as they slotted it into place. 'Just
enough movement to let it swivel. Now
we'll be able to change direction when the
wind gets up.'
    When Christina returned with the sheets,
Beck cut four lengths of vine about the
thickness of his little finger and threaded
them through the edges of the sheet like the
stitching on a wicker basket. Once the sail
was in place, he lashed more lengths of the
mangrove together in the shape of a large A.
When he had finished, he wedged it into
the deck platform at the other end of the
raft from the sail. 'One tiller,' he said,
rubbing his hands together with the satisfaction
of a job well done. 'All we need now
is a long pole to use as a rudder.'
    By now the sun was sinking in the sky
and the shadows of the trees were growing
longer by the minute. 'Just one more rather
important thing,' said Beck as they looked
at the raft in the gathering gloom. He
swung the machete down hard into the
green spongy skin of a large object like a
giant football that lay under a nearby palm
tree. As it split open, a milky sap oozed out.
    Picking up the coconut and shaking it, he
sent arcs of milk squirting over the deck of
the raft before passing it on, first to
Christina and then to Marco, so they could
do the same.
    'I name this ship the Bella Señora ,' said
Beck solemnly as they passed around the
coconut, drinking a toast. 'Long life to all
who sail in her.'
    'To the Bella Señora ,' echoed the twins.
    When the ceremony was over, Marco led
the way back to the hacienda, where Beck
disappeared upstairs and the twins began
filling a large hamper, ransacking the
kitchen for provisions. Marco had
persuaded Señora Cordova to go home
early, saying that they were too tired to eat
much supper and would be going to bed
early. She had left them some food out to
make sandwiches.
    As they were adding a few last afterthoughts,
Beck reappeared. He was
clutching a shiny black object with a large
colour screen. 'Global Positioning System,'
he explained. 'Otherwise known as a GPS. I
take it with me everywhere I go with Uncle
Al. He's forever getting lost so it comes
in handy every time. It talks to satellites in
space to pinpoint your position. With this
we'll know exactly where we are to within
about two metres anywhere on Earth!'
    The twins watched as Beck punched
instructions into the keypad and the
familiar outline of South America appeared
on the screen. As he repeatedly punched a
button marked ZOOM, Christina felt as if
she were landing in an alien spaceship: the
outline of Colombia drew ever closer, until
at last they were hovering over the streets of
Cartagena itself.
    'This little gizmo tells you everything.
High tide tonight is just after midnight, and
once we're out at sea, the current should be
running east. Exactly where we need to go.
I've calculated it should take us less than
two days to reach the shore where Gonzalo
landed. We'll be able to find more food and
water in the forest. But let's eat something
now and then sleep for a few hours.'
    The hacienda was quiet as the grave when
Beck woke the twins, just before midnight.
Out of his bedroom window he could see
two police cars