Tracks of the Tiger Read Online Free

humans might have turned out if evolution had just developed in a slightly different way. Their eyes, though, were almost always sad. They seemed to contain the wisdom of the universe, as if they knew what a mess their close relatives the humans were making of their jungle – a jungle where they themselves were totally at home.
    Beck squatted down in front of a teenage orang-utan which was tucking into a banana. It glanced up at him and their eyes met for a moment. Beck could have sworn he could read its thoughts: Listen, mate, you humans need to do a lot better. Now excuse me, this banana’s more interesting than you are .
    A keeper handed a bucket to an old, grizzled male, who held the handle in his teeth and trotted on all fours over to a couple of his friends. He sat in front of the bucket, then reached into it for the food. One of the others clung to a branch with one foot and one hand, and dipped his spare hand into the bucket for the food. The third hung upside down by his feet and reached into the bucket from above.
    Peter was laughing so much he had trouble taking a photo. ‘What do they eat?’ he asked.
    Nakula was standing and watching the same scene, hands in his pockets and a fond smile on his face. ‘In the wild, fruit – all kinds. Here we give them only bananas and milk. We try to keep their diet boring to encourage them to forage for themselves.’
    â€˜They don’t look very bored.’
    â€˜I know.’ Nakula sighed. ‘Perhaps we treat them too well. I would like them not to need us at all – to live freely in the jungle, in no danger from the hand of man, only visiting us when they wanted to. But at the same time, I am pleased they want to stay here because I would miss them so much if they left.’
    â€˜So, if they weren’t hanging around here, where would they be?’
    â€˜Oh, they like to live on their own. At night they sleep in nests—’
    â€˜ Nests? ’
    â€˜Certainly.’ Nakula laughed at Peter’s surprise. ‘See, up there?’
    He led the boys over to the edge of the clearing and pointed up at one of the trees. Peter zoomed his camera in on the nest. It really did look like a giant bird had made it. Branches and leaves and sticks were jammed together in a fork of the tree’s limbs, ten metres up.
    â€˜They rarely spend more than two nights in the same place. They might move into a vacant nest, or make a new one just for one night. They are very – what is your word? – easygoing? And see how there is fruit nearby?’ He pointed at clusters of berries that dangled above the nest. ‘They like to laze around in their nests and have their food dangling at arm’s length. Very easygoing.’
    Nakula cocked his head to one side and looked thoughtfully at the two boys. It looked like he was weighing up a difficult decision.
    â€˜You two are the only young people in your group, yes? I think I know another young person who would very much like to meet you. Over here . . .’
    He led them over to a hut. Beck turned and saw that Peter’s father was the other side of the clearing, talking to a couple of Americans; he waved at him to let him know where they were.
    Inside the hut another keeper sat on a chair with his back to them. The angle he was sitting at suggested he was feeding a baby with a bottle. When Nakula said his name, he looked up and the boys saw it was indeed a baby on his lap – a baby orang-utan.
    The two men chatted briefly in Malay, and then the second keeper stood up and handed the baby over to Nakula. He smiled at the boys and left.
    â€˜This is Ayesha,’ Nakula explained as he cradled the tiny orang-utan. ‘She was found near her mother’s dead body, too frightened to move on and find food. She almost starved to death, but we were able to save her . . .’
    He grinned at the boys, guessing the answer to the question he was about to