Tha adventure of jack on an island part 13

Time on the island did not move in hours anymore; it moved in the growth of the trees and the length of Jack’s hair. It had been many months since the shipwreck. Jack’s hair, which used to be perfectly styled by expensive barbers in New York, had grown into a thick, wild mane. It reached past his shoulders and down his back, tangled with salt and forest dust. His beard was also long and heavy.

While the hair made him look like a true king of the forest, it was starting to become a problem. In the heat of the jungle, it made him sweat too much. When he hunted, it fell into his eyes. And when he moved through thick thorns, his hair would get caught, pulling his head back and making him easy for predators to catch."I need to cut this," Jack said, pulling at a long tangle. "But I have no scissors. I have no razor."Jack remembered seeing a strange place far to the north of the island during his birthday climb. It was a valley where the rocks looked different—they were dark, shiny, and jagged. He called it the "Sharp Valley." He hoped that there, he might find a stone sharp enough to act as a natural trimmer.The journey to the Sharp Valley was the most deadly adventure Jack had ever faced. He left his cave at dawn, carrying only his spear and a gourd of water.To get to the valley, Jack had to cross the "Sinking Swamps." The ground here was not solid. It was a mix of mud and rotting leaves that could swallow a man in seconds.As Jack stepped on what looked like a solid root, the ground gave way. He sank up to his waist in thick, black mud. He felt something moving against his legs under the surface—water snakes. They were small but had a nasty bite. Jack didn't panic. He used his spear to reach for a distant tree trunk. He pulled with all his strength, his muscles bulging, until he dragged himself out of the stinking mud. He was covered in black slime, but he was alive.After the swamp, Jack reached the entrance of the Sharp Valley. But the path was blocked by a giant monitor lizard. It was nearly eight feet long, with a flicking tongue and powerful claws. It hissed at Jack, warning him to stay away.Jack did not want to kill the lizard, but he needed to pass. He picked up a heavy stone and threw it to the left, making a loud noise in the bushes. When the lizard turned its head to look, Jack sprinted past it, jumping over sharp rocks with the speed of a deer. The lizard snapped at his heels, but Jack was too fast.Inside the valley, the ground was covered in Obsidian—a natural volcanic glass. It was pitch black and shiny. Jack knelt down and looked at the shards. He picked up a thin, flat piece that was shaped like a small knife.He touched the edge. It was sharper than any metal razor he had ever seen. "This is it," Jack whispered. "The blade of the earth."But he couldn't just use a piece of glass. He needed to make it a tool. He found a piece of hard redwood and used a stone to split the end. He slid the obsidian blade into the wood and tied it tight with dried animal tendons. He now had a natural trimmer—a razor that would never go dull.Jack sat by a clear pool of water in the valley. He used the water as a mirror. He took his new obsidian trimmer and began to work.He was very careful. One wrong move with a blade this sharp would be very dangerous. He cut away the long, heavy clumps of hair. He trimmed his beard until it was short and neat again. As the hair fell to the ground, Jack felt lighter. He felt faster.He looked at his reflection. With his hair short and his new scar running down his eye, he looked like a person he finally recognized. He didn't look like a billionaire's son, and he didn't look like a wild animal. He looked like a man who was the master of his environment.The walk back to the cave was long, but Jack felt like a new person. The wind felt cool on his neck and ears. He could see clearly without hair falling in his face.When he reached the Black Cave, he sat by his fire. He looked at the obsidian trimmer in his hand. It was a symbol of his adventure. He had faced the swamp and the lizard to get what he needed. He didn't wait for a gift to fall from the sky; he went out and found it.Jack lay down on his bed. He felt "fresh" and clean. He ran his hand over his short hair and his tough scar. He was ready for the next day. He was ready for the next year. He was Jack, the man of the island, and nothing could stop him now.