He started strumming softly again. “I was thinking, the tribe that’s been following us in the jungle would probably appreciate those drawings of their world, if you could part with them. Like a goodwill gesture, a gift.”
She peered uncertainly into the depths of the jungle. He waited, idly strumming a haunting melody she’d never heard.
“I’ve signed and dated the drawings. What if the men looking for me finds one?”
“The guerillas on all sides mostly leave the indigenous villages and people groups alone.”
The Princess bit her lip, then carefully tore recent drawings from the sketchbook while the Jaguar pulled the guitar over his head and leaned it against the log. He asked a guard about borrowing his night vision goggles and took her hand to lead her yards deeper into the jungle.
They found the enormous stump of an ancient tree and she laid the papers there. He blinked at the one on top. It was not among the ones she’d shown him earlier. The drawing was a roadside view of a rough homemade sign which proclaimed, “Jesus Saves.” At the bottom of the page, she’d written the Spanish words for “shine, and pass it on.”
“I know this sign.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish