Otan sent a small group of villagers to accompany Indy to where the launches were tied off, but they didn't encounter any creatures. Every so often, though, they heard a strange howl in the distance.
Indy didn't know what he was going to tell Kelly about what happened to rest of the group or if he'd just conk him in the head. Unsurprisingly, when he got to the launches, there was no sign of the man except for his unfired tommy-gun laying in the grass.
He reached the Rita after dark, making boarding a bit of a challenge, but Kirschner was there to manage the process. Indy suspected the man had been waiting on deck to see of anyone came out of the jungle.
"Just you?" he asked, passing Indy a flask.
"Yeah," Indy answered and took a nip. Whiskey, thankfully. He was prepared for schnapps.
"We go back at first light, I think."
"I think. And never return." Indy handed the flask back to him.
"Oh, you don't have to warn me. I won't come back. I think something like this happen. That's why I get paid in advance."
"Good idea," Indy said, trudging back to his bunk.
"Hey," Kirschner called to him. "At least you come out with your life."
But Indy came out with more than that. In his bunk, by candlelight, he studied the parchment Otan had given him in exchange for his machete.