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Page 2 and Javier Ojeda, a veterinarian, hustled the rest of the gear into their backpacks. Valentin Diaz and Lolo Riveros, the two perreros, or houndsmen, fit and young, prepared for their jungle run with the dogs. They were the team's contact with the chase, essentially racing a frightened and fleeing jaguar. These men were also charged with protecting the dogs from getting wounded in a fight with the jaguar. Don Pancho let the dogs go. In full cry, they locked immediately onto the cat. Diaz and Riveros streaked after them into the jungle.
The rest of us crashed into the jungle single file behind Don Pancho. Following the baying of the dogs, Don Pancho hacked away vines and small trees with his machete. They quickly outran us, and soon we heard them no more. Don Pancho looked worried. Still, he kept us trudging forward, leading where he imagined the jaguar might go, based on his experience with jaguars and the terrain. For nearly an hour, we hiked along in silence, trying not to get discouraged. Then we heard a distant baying. A smile flickered across Don Pancho's face. Our pace quickened. The sound of the dogs grew louder. After a time I realized that the baying had not moved, and it had changed, sliding into a high-pitched and frantic whining.   |
