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I could feel drops of rain through the thick criss cross ceiling of leaves overhead as we walked along a thin trail through the forest. We were on a weeklong camping trip in lesser-known trekking routes. My boyfriend Rick was taking photos of the beautiful scenery and was following slowly. The villagers in our previous night stop had cautioned us to be careful on the route. We were moving to the interior and they had told us tales of man-eating tribals who inhabited the jungle. Not that any man-eating incident had been publicly reported. We dismissed it as a local legend and carried on.

It had rained last night and that had created small streams and springs of water which bubbled along happily in the quite of the forest. The cool morning air was fresh and I breathed in deeply. I had been amused with the local tales and was wondering if there were really such man-eating monsters in this forest. I found stopped by a fresh stream of water and rewarded myself with a chilled face wash. I called out to Rick to try out the stream. He waved to me and said he would. I saw a sturdy branch lying in the water and picked it up to use as a hiking stick. We walked on admiring the flowers and vegetation along the way. We must have walked for about five hours when we came upon a flattened stretch. We had reached the top and could now see a group of four hills surrounding a very green valley. The view was magnificent . It was getting noon and the sun was climbing high. We were sweating and a little out of breath so we decided to take a break. Rick joined me as I sat down and leaned against a fallen tree trunk. I took a swig from by ...

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