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English to Portuguese: Quest - A Dane Maddock Adventure General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English Thomas had never felt so hot in his entire life. The heat was sweltering, unrelenting, and scarcely a breeze stirred beneath the canopy of green. Creeping, clutching foliage dogged his every step. And the insects! They were an unrelenting cloud, biting and stinging him, and invading his every orifice. Civilization’s finest insect repellent had waged a losing battle against the onslaught.
“It’s getting late.” Denesh, his neck twitching in that annoying nervous tic of his, glanced up at the tat-tered bits of sky visible through the canopy of trees. “You know how quickly night can come on in this jungle. I don’t want to be stuck out here when it does.”
“I know.” Thomas took another look at his notebook. He had found all the landmarks up to this point, but this next one continued to elude him. Perhaps just a bit farther. Of course, he’d been telling himself that for the better part of the last hour, with no success. With a sigh, he tucked the notebook back into his pocket. They were close. He just knew it. His research had proved to be accurate up to this point, with all the landmarks exactly as they should be, so there was no reason to assume it would not continue to be so. They were on the verge of a discovery that would rock the world.
“Did you hear that?” Denesh shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking all around. He looked like a nervous bird, his head jerking to and fro as his eyes probed the jungle.
“I didn’t hear anything.” The truth was, Thomas was so focused on his thoughts that a truck could have driven over him and he probably would not have noticed until it was too late. “Let’s head back. To-morrow we’ll get an earlier start and see how far we can get. We might even break camp and haul the gear along with us. That way we can range even farther.”
Denesh’s coffee complexion paled at the suggestion, but he nodded. A brilliant graduate student, he was finding the expedition difficult, to say the least, but he had braved it all without complaint. The young man had potential, assuming Thomas could ever get him back out into the field after this experience. He now stood stock-still, his knuckles white as he clutched the hilt of his machete. “I’m not crazy, Professor Thornton, I swear I heard something. It was the strangest sound. Like a giant sheet of sandpaper being dragged across the ground.”
“That’s probably what it was, then. Congratulations. You’ve solved the mystery.” He elbowed Denesh in the ribs, coaxing a weak smile. “All right, it’s time to test your woods craft. Do you think you can guide us back to camp without getting us hopelessly lost?”
Denesh took up the challenge, and only managed to lead them off course twice, but both times he found the trail again without any help from Thomas. By the time camp was in sight, he had a bit of bounce in his step. The promise of food, no matter how poor, and a camp bed beneath a screen of mos-quito netting, seemed like high living in this part of the world.
Thomas sensed something was wrong the moment he entered camp. A quick inspection revealed nothing obvious that might be amiss, but still, things were not right. There was a tension in the air, as if the world were as taut as piano wire.
Derek and Emily appeared from the shadows on the far side of the encampment and hurried to meet him. They both appeared agitated.
“Doctor Thornton, I did not sign up for this trip only to be stranded in the middle of nowhere.” Emily’s freckled face was bright red, but whether from sunburn or anger he could not tell.
Translation - Portuguese Thomas nunca havia sentido tanto calor na vida. O calor era sufocante, incessante, e raramente uma brisa soprava pelo dossel verdejante. A folhagem rastejante atrapalhava cada passo. E os insetos! Eram uma nuvem implacável, mordendo e picando, e invadindo cada orifício. O melhor repelente da civilização havia perdido a batalha contra seu assalto.
— Está ficando tarde. — Denesh, seu pescoço se contorcendo em seu irritante tique nervoso, olhou pra cima através dos esparsos pedaços de céu visíveis através das árvores. — Você sabe o quão rápido a noite vem nessa selva. Não quero estar aqui fora quando acontecer.
— Sei. — Thomas olhou novamente seu caderno. Ele havia encontrados todos os marcos até esse ponto, mas o próximo continuava a iludi-lo. Talvez um pouco mais à frente. Claro, ele estava dizendo isso a si mesmo a quase uma hora, sem sucesso. Com um suspiro, ele guardou o caderno de anotações de volta em seu bolso de trás. Eles estavam próximos. Ele sabia disso. Sua pesquisa havia se provado correta até esse ponto, com todos os marcos exatamente onde deveriam ser, então não havia razão para presumir que não continuasse assim. Eles estavam à beira de uma descoberta que abalaria o mundo.
— Você ouviu isso? — Denesh passou o peso de um pé para o outro, olhando ao redor. Ele parecia um pássaro nervoso, sua cabeça se agitando para frente e para trás enquanto seus olhos sondavam a selva.
— Eu não ouvi nada. — A verdade era que, Thomas estava tão concentrado em seus pensamentos que um caminhão poderia atropelá-lo e ele não notaria até ser tarde demais. — Vamos retornar. Amanhã começaremos mais cedo pra vermos até onde podemos chegar. Talvez tenhamos que levantar acampamento e levar nossos suprimentos junto. Assim podemos ir ainda mais longe.
A compleição cor de café de Denesh empalideceu com a sugestão, mas ele consentiu. Um prodigioso estudante graduado, ele estava achando a expedição difícil, por assim dizer, mas ele havia aguentado sem reclamar. O jovem tinha potencial, presumindo que Thomas conseguisse fazê-lo retornar a campo depois dessa experiência. Ele agora estava parado, seus punhos brancos enquanto apertava a bainha de sua machete. — Não sou louco, Professor Thornton, eu juro que ouvi algo. Era um som bem estranho. Como uma lixa gigante sendo arrastada no chão.
— Provavelmente era isso, então. Parabéns. Você resolveu o mistério. — Ele cotovelou Denesh na costela, forçando um sorriso fraco. — Tudo bem, está na hora de testar suas habilidades de navegação. Acha que pode nos guiar de volta ao acampamento sem nos perdermos?
Denesh aceitou o desafio, e conseguiu leva-los errando o caminho apenas duas vezes, mas em ambas conseguiu retornar a trilha sem a ajuda de Thomas. Quando avistaram o acampamento, ele estava um pouco pululante. A promessa de comida, independente de quão simples, e uma cama de acampamento com rede contra mosquitos, parecia vida de alta sociedade por ali.
Thomas sentiu algo errado no momento que entraram no acampamento. Uma inspeção rápida não revelou nada obviamente faltando, mas ainda assim, algo estava errado. Havia uma certa tensão no ar, como se o mundo estivesse retesado como a corda de um piano.
Derek e Emily apareceram das sombras no lado oposto do acampamento, andando rapidamente na direção deles. Ambos pareciam bastante agitados.
— Doutor Thornton, eu não me alistei para essa viagem só pra ficar perdido no meio do nada. — O rosto cheio de pintas de Emily estava vermelho, mas se era raiva ou insolação, era difícil dizer.
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Years of experience: 8. Registered at ProZ.com: Mar 2016.
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