Drifting through the dense growth of the steamy jungle, a melodious voice weaved its way into Jessie's ears. The intoxicating refrain drew him along through the leafy plants that grew thickly around the base of the high-reaching trees, covering his already sweat-drenched clothes with their moisture.
As he moved along in a daze, a thumping beat began to thump around the siren voice, causing Jessie's head to start bobbing in sync with the jungle rhythm.
Pulling back a huge green leaf, Jessie revealed an open area in the thicket of the jungle where a multitude of men and women moved and grooved to the song that was being sung by a beautiful, wrap-dress clad woman standing on an elevated stage in the middle of the crowd.
The stage was the level stump of a huge tree and joining her was a percussionist, pounding away on a variety of different drum skins and bamboo shoots to create the thumping beat that now throbbed in Jessie's chest; and a single guitarist, who strummed a simple acoustic guitar that filled in the space just under the singer's haunting voice.
The dancers all moved and gyrated to the trio's rhythm around the stage, their drenched clothes clinging to their vibrating bodies; and without a thought of the strangeness of the fact there was a dance club out in the middle of the jungle, Jessie moved to join in.
No one seemed to be paying attention to each other; they only closed their eyes to take in the music and danced by themselves in the crowd as Jessie did the same.
Another trio appeared from the undergrowth behind Jessie and looked curiously at what they saw.
"My word," Johansson exclaimed as he stepped up beside Harrington. "What on Earth is Reeds doing?"
"I believe the poor chap was exposed to those poisonous Wihikita blooms back there." Smithwick said as he patted his sweating brow with a polka dotted handkerchief. "He must have brushed up against his leg as he passed them."
The three explorers watched as their companion danced wildly by himself to some unheard music in his hallucinating mind.
"I warned him about wearing short pants in the jungle." Harrington pointed to Jamie Reeds exposed legs. "But he insisted he needed to feel the breeze on his skin or he'd go mad."
"I'm not quite sure he feels it now." Johansson remarked.
Taking no notice of his companions, Professor Reeds continued to dance and gyrate feverishly to the enchanting songstress's jungle melody, his abandoned cargo shorts worn now, on his head.