Paddington landed in a heap in front of Mrs. Brown and Judy. He sat up, dazed, still holding two handles of the ship’s wheel, but realized the rest of it had disappeared. He had at least found the life jackets, when his fall on the bow broke open their locker.

  “Er . . . abandon ship?” Paddington suggested.

  “Yes!” shouted Mrs. Brown. “ABANDON SHIP!”

  The Browns gathered by the rail in their life jackets, and then everyone leaped into the water except Paddington.

  He gasped in horror as he remembered something. “Aunt Lucy’s glasses!” he cried, and rushed back down into the boat.

  Seconds later, Paddington stumbled into the saloon. The boat was rolling violently now, and water was spouting from all directions. Just then, Paddington spotted Aunt Lucy’s glasses sliding around on the counter where he had left them. He was about to reach them when the whole room started turning round and round like a spinning barrel! Paddington had to run on the spot to stay upright, like a hamster in a wheel, as he stretched for Aunt Lucy’s glasses.

  Out in the water, beyond the rapids, the Browns were bobbing in the water, spluttering and coughing.

  “Grab anything that floats!” shouted Mr. Brown. Taking his own advice, he snatched at something, only to find it was the case containing the purple-kneed tarantula!

  “ARRGH! It’s that spider again!” He pushed it away, then saw his risk manual floating past and threw his arms around it. He muttered gratefully to himself, “Triple-laminated . . .”

  “Wait,” said Mrs. Brown, looking around. “Where’s Paddington? Paddington!”

  Just as the Browns were starting to panic, a circle of bubbles appeared as if something large was about to surface.

  SPLOOOSH! Paddington burst out of the water. He was now sitting on top of the piano, which was still playing a gurgling version of its jaunty tune!

  “I’m here! I’m okay, everyone!” he cried. He held up Aunt Lucy’s glasses triumphantly. “Aunt Lucy’s going to need these.”

  Soon the Browns and Paddington reached the shore and pulled themselves up on to the bank. Everyone was completely soaked through.

  Mrs. Brown took in their surroundings. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “The Amazon,” said Jonathan.

  “Brilliant,” said Mr. Brown sarcastically.

  Judy reached into her soggy clothes. She pulled out her Dictaphone, shook the water out of it, and turned it on to start recording some more of her travelogue. “Day three. With the Browns lost in the jungle, everyone was thinking the same thing. How long till we eat each other?”

  Mr. Brown gave his daughter a stern look and said, “That’s not helpful, Judy.”

  Bits and pieces from the boat floated past them, including the satellite phone. It was ringing as it sank into the river . . .

  Mrs. Bird was phoning them from the Home for Retired Bears. She listened as the ringtone crackled, then went dead.

  Mrs. Bird looked at the receiver, puzzled. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

  She jiggled the phone cable in the socket, then noticed something on the wall behind the desk. There was a curious electrical junction box up there, which had a high voltage sign on it. Mrs. Bird realized that there was a throbbing, humming noise coming from it. A large red industrial electrical cable ran out of the box and along the wall.

  “What have we here?” she said to herself.

  Mrs. Bird quickly followed the mysterious red cable around the Home for Retired Bears. It traveled under rugs, around a bear’s rocking chair, between the legs of a statue of the Virgin Mary . . .

  “Pardon me,” she said as she reached under the statue.

  She followed the cable past a nun who was calling out bingo numbers and got momentarily distracted.

  “Noah’s Ark—all the 2s,” called out the bingo nun, holding up the number 22. “Days and Nights 40, Days and Nights. All the Apostles, number 12. The Holy Trinity, number 3. Three Wise Men, number 3. The Commandments, number 10. Genesis, number 1. All the Horsemen, number 4! Horseman of the Apocalypse, number 4. 67, Stairway to Heaven. 33, Part the Sea. 52, God Bless You. Pieces of Silver, 30.”

  Mrs. Bird shook her head and concentrated on following the cable until it disappeared into the wall next to an elaborate church organ. There was a gap in the wall around the organ, and from inside the gap came a strange red glow that throbbed in time with the humming noise. The noise seemed to be coming from behind the wall! Mrs. Bird was inspecting the organ when the Reverend Mother quietly appeared as if from nowhere.

  “Do you play, Mrs. Bird?” she asked, a calm smile playing on her lips.

  Mrs. Bird ignored her question. “What’s behind that organ?” she demanded.

  “Nothing to be concerned about,” said the Reverend Mother.

  “What about the lights?” Mrs. Bird persisted. “And the humming?”

  “It’s just a secret room,” said the Reverend Mother.

  “Secret room?” Mrs. Bird gasped. “What have you got in there?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” said the Reverend Mother.

  Mrs. Bird frowned. “That’s strange. And why is that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re finding strange, Mrs. Bird,” said the Reverend Mother, looking puzzled. “It’s just a secret room, behind an organ, and I can’t tell you what’s in it. There’s nothing suspicious about it.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve used the word ‘suspicious’!” said Mrs. Bird.

  “Oh, is it?” The Reverend Mother beamed the same radiant smile. “Well, the Lord moves in suspicious ways.”

  “Don’t you mean mysterious ways?” said Mrs. Bird.

  The Reverend Mother looked surprised. “You know your scripture, Mrs. Bird! Now come along—it’s time for bingo.” And, with that, she led an unconvinced Mrs. Bird away from the organ.

  “Aye . . . bingo!” said Mrs. Bird decisively.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lost . . .

  Paddington and the bedraggled Browns stood on the riverbank, surveying the debris from the boat wreck.

  “Well . . . we wanted a holiday to remember!” said Mrs. Brown, trying to sound cheerful.

  “At this rate, we might not be around to remember it,” said Mr. Brown grumpily.

  “Maybe we should just, like, draw a big SOS in the sand and chill here?” said Jonathan.

  “‘Chill here’?” Mr. Brown repeated, disgusted. “This is the Amazon, not a shopping center!”

  “All we need is a plan,” said Mrs. Brown.

  “I have a plan, Mrs. Brown,” said Paddington.

  Everyone turned to look at him in surprise.

  “We find Rumi Rock ourselves.” Paddington wrung out his wet hat and placed it decisively on his head. “It can’t be far—and whatever’s happened to Hunter and Gina, they’re bound to look for us there.”

  “Are you sure you can find the way?” asked Mrs. Brown.

  “The jungle was my home, Mrs. Brown,” said Paddington firmly. “I think I know my way around.”

  Mr. Brown glanced down at Paddington’s umbrella, which had survived the wreckage. “But . . . you have spent rather a long time in London, Paddington.”

  Paddington put his foot up on a log and leaned on his knee, giving Mr. Brown a steely look. “Mr. Brown. You can take the bear out of the jungle, but you can’t take the jungle out of the bear.”

  The log started moving and let out a low growl. An alarmed Paddington yelped and quickly pulled his foot away as it revealed itself to be something large and reptilian, which slithered into the undergrowth.

  “Ahem, anyway . . . follow me,” said Paddington hastily. “Oh, and remember, whatever you do, never touch this plant.” He pointed at a very spiky bright red plant.

  “What’s it called?” Judy asked.

  “The Spiky Red One,” Paddington announced confidently. He strode off into the undergrowth, followed tentatively by the Browns. “A short stroll in the jungle,” he said over his shoulder. “This’ll be fun!”

  The Browns followed Paddington through the trees.

  “This way! Rumi Rock should be just through . . . here!” Paddington announced.

  They walked on, pushing through the dense leaves and branches, until they reached another part of the rainforest.

  “Through . . . here . . .” repeated Paddington.

  By now, the Browns were covered in dirt and twigs.

  They made their way toward a large waterfall, surrounded by closely packed trees. They leaped across the water using stepping stones.

  “THROUGH . . .” Paddington shouted above the noise of the waterfall, “HERE . . .”

  After hours of trekking, the Browns were feeling very weary.

  “Paddington . . . are you sure you know where you’re going?” Mr. Brown asked anxiously.

  “Oh yes, Mr. Brown,” said Paddington. “When you’re from the jungle, you don’t miss a thing. Like this! Look!” He pointed at a leaf.

  “A . . . leaf?” asked Mr. Brown, puzzled.

  “No. A leaf insect,” said Paddington. The leaf insect started to move. “You see, Mr. Brown? I don’t miss a thing.”

  The Browns were impressed and reassured. Paddington walked off confidently. Behind them, some large figures made entirely of leaves stepped out unnoticed from their perfectly camouflaged hiding place in the undergrowth. These were the espíritus del bosque, who silently began to follow the Browns and Paddington through the rainforest.

  After miles and miles of walking through more and more vegetation and enormous trees, Paddington pushed through a bush and announced, “And if I’m not mistaken, Rumi Rock will be right through . . . oh . . .”

  He stopped and stared.

  They were back at the riverbank with the boat wreck! Their footprints were still in the sand at the exact spot where they had started their trek.

  “Marvelous.” Mr. Brown sounded very fed up.

  Paddington dropped his head in shame. “Mr. Brown was right. Maybe I have spent too long in London.”

  “It’s okay, Paddington.” Mrs. Brown put a comforting hand on him.

  Paddington looked at her, full of despair as the rain started to fall. “Only a spot of drizzle,” he said, trying to sound brave. But the drizzle quickly became very heavy rain indeed and soon everyone was drenched.

  Miserably, the Browns pulled their clothes tighter around them.

  “How long will it rain like this?” Judy asked.

  Paddington looked up into the darkening sky. “Could be a few minutes . . . or a few months.”

  The Browns looked at each other uncertainly.

  “Let’s find some shelter for the night,” said Mrs. Brown.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rumi Rock

  The rain was still falling heavily. The Browns had taken up residence in the roots of a giant kapok tree. Jonathan looked up at a tasty-looking fruit on a low-hanging branch. It made him think of one of his inventions. That branch could be the extendable arm of a newly made Snack Hack, he thought to himself. I could make it from twigs and vines. Then the branch could knock the fruit to the floor so that I could reach it . . . Jonathan sighed. Would he ever get home to his real Snack Hack?

  “I spy with my little eye,” said Mrs. Brown, “something beginning with . . .” Then she heard a distant screech that made her jump. “Doesn’t matter,” she said hastily.

  “Let’s do our best to get some sleep,” Mr. Brown suggested.

  “Night night, Paddington,” said Mrs. Brown. “We’ll try again in the morning.”

  “Night night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the giant tree bugs bite,” replied Paddington.

  “Giant tree bugs?” Mr. Brown repeated nervously.

  But Paddington wasn’t listening to him. He was already climbing higher up the tree trunk, looking for a comfy “attic” branch on which to settle. The voices of the Browns gave way to the sounds of the forest as he climbed higher.

  A few branches below, Judy was recording her travelogue again. “End of day three. Faint from cold and hunger, soaked to the skin, we’re forced to take shelter in a bug-infested kapok tree . . .”

  “Please, Judy. Not now,” said Mr. Brown.

  “Tempers are getting frayed,” Judy continued.

  “They are NOT getting frayed,” said Mr. Brown.

  “. . . said my father,” Judy went on. “His temper fraying.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” Mr. Brown snapped. “I’m sleeping in a tree. I’ve got wet socks! I can practically hear the spiders!”

  “What happened to ‘embracing the risk’?” asked Mrs. Brown.

  “I’ve tried that, Mary! God knows I’ve tried!” cried Mr. Brown in exasperation. “But I’ve been living a lie! I’m Henry Brown and I’m risk averse. I don’t belong here, we don’t belong here, and, frankly, neither does Paddington anymore.”

  Paddington had reached the top of the tree. He pushed his head up through the leaves and emerged above the canopy. The endless jungle stretched out in every direction. He had heard what Mr. Brown had said and now the enormity of his task was sinking in. He sighed, feeling hope seep away from him for the first time since they had left the Home for Retired Bears. Above him, gray clouds gathered in the night sky, and more and more tropical rain poured down on him. Paddington pulled out his Windsorman Deluxe umbrella, which he had been carrying with him all the way. He popped it open and huddled beneath it.

  “Where are you, Aunt Lucy?” he said, staring longingly out into the forest.

  Eventually Paddington drifted off to sleep and fell into a dream. It was broad daylight in the dream, and Paddington was walking along a rope bridge toward the door of the old treehouse in which he’d grown up. He peered through the doorway and was surprised to see Aunt Lucy sitting in her rocking chair.

  “Aunt Lucy—I thought I’d lost you!” cried Paddington.

  “Oh, Paddington,” said Aunt Lucy gently. “Can’t you see that it is you who are lost?”

  Paddington cried out, “Aunt Lucy!”

  Then he woke with a gasp. He was back in the tree, soaking wet, mouthing silently, “Aunt Lucy!”

  He looked for his umbrella, but it had been blown from his grasp into the next tree. Paddington clambered after it, but somehow the umbrella was always just beyond his reach. He chased it down through the trees. At times, it looked as if the trees had taken hold of the umbrella and were passing it on to one another using their leafy branches as though they were hands.

  Paddington clambered down to the floor of the forest, racing after his umbrella, but it was always just ahead of him, seeming to blow away on the breeze. He ran on and on until he lost his footing and tumbled down the bank. There was a huge SPLASH! Paddington fell into the umbrella, which was now upended and acting as a little boat! It carried Paddington along on the current.

  After a while Paddington spotted some bushes ahead of him on the far bank. They were gently drawing apart like a pair of curtains. What was going on in there? Paddington decided to find out. He saw a branch floating ahead of him and plucked it from the water. Using the branch as a paddle, he made his way toward the gap in the bushes. It was hard work, paddling against the rushing river, but eventually he reached the opposite bank.

  He climbed out of the water, taking his umbrella with him, and made his way into the jungle. The rainforest was becoming denser and darker, and Paddington was beginning to wonder if he should turn back. But he had come this far. He told himself to be brave and pushed on through the darkness, even though he could barely see a thing.

  Just as he was thinking how hopeless this was, he reached a clearing. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath . . . Then there was a crash of thunder and a bright flash of lightning! Paddington threw up his paws and almost toppled over from shock! But then, in the flash of light, he saw something incredible: a towering statue of a bear! It was just like the one Paddington had seen in Mr. Gruber’s shop, only massive and made of stone. It looked like the one from his dream in the hammock . . . Paddington was completely confused. In his mind he was back in Mr. Gruber’s shop for a moment, staring at the statue . . . Then just as quickly he was back in the jungle again. He could see now that the clearing was encircled by ancient stones and the bear statue was right in the center. And there was Hunter, looking as stylish as ever—except for the fact that his neatly buttoned suit was now absolutely filthy.

  “Ah. Little bear. I was wondering when you’d turn up,” said Hunter.

  “Mr. Hunter! Thank goodness you’re safe!” said Paddington.

  Hunter gestured to the stone circle. “Welcome to Rumi Rock.”

  “And Aunt Lucy—is she here?” Paddington looked around hopefully.

  “No,” said Hunter. “But I think she was here. Remember I told you Rumi Rock was the gateway to El Dorado? That’s why no one can find her here, Paddington, because she’s already found her way there.”

  “Why do you think that, Mr. Hunter?” Paddington asked.

  Hunter revealed the bracelet and smiled.

  “You translated the quipu!” Paddington exclaimed. “What does it say?”

  “It says . . .”

  Paddington’s eyes widened in anticipation.

  “‘At Rumi Rock, the bear will show the way.’” Hunter handed the bracelet back to Paddington.

  Paddington’s eyes widened still farther. Then he suddenly looked blank.

  “And what bear would that be?” he asked.

  “You tell me. You’re the bear,” said Hunter, raising an eyebrow.

  “I see,” said Paddington, frowning. “And does the bracelet say anything else at all?”

  “Just ‘The bear will show the way,’” said Hunter, getting more annoyed by the minute.

  “I see. And there isn’t another message, written on the back? Because sometimes . . .”

  “NO!” Hunter snapped. “It says, ‘The bear will show the way.’ You’re a bear, that’s a bear, that talisman’s got a bear on it. This whole thing’s really BEARY! So what do we do—BEAR?” he asked pointedly.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Hunter,” said Paddington. “Aunt Lucy always says, ‘When you’re faced with a problem, sit down and put on your thinking cap.’” Paddington put his hat on his head and sat down to think hard.

 

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