Treasure Hunting

       Jack held tight on the thick rope and leaped out with a kicking run, he hung on the air for a second and landed hard on the other side rolling as the jump gathered more momentum than he had expected. He swept the dust off and tucked the rope in bag. He looked down at the edge, it was quite a cross from the fall around hundred meters deep.
       He hadn't been to this part of the forest but heard tales of this place, and the treasure at the end, an big old chest full of jewelry that was said from the pirates. None had ventured far enough to verify it, none had seen it before, and none had the picture of the chest. It might very likely to be just another tale, though soggy ancient maps were found in several locations with identical markings.
       Ran through the first marking; jumped over the second one; the next one would be a dangling wooded bridge connected by hemp rope. He doubted it would be any use after all these years, with the rain and wind here in Hawaii, it is difficult to keep the wood intact and the rope firm.
       Few minutes of hiking through the woods brought him to the bridge where the whole thing had split into two halves. He stood near the cliff, the drop was around 5 meters with a rocky bottom. Jack searched for a crossing alternative with no yield so he bundled the rope with a hook mounted on the bridge post, with swiftness he descended because he was afraid that the wood could not support his weight and broken up. He did the same while climbing up on the other side but with multiple throws to finally secure the hook in place.
       The path got slippery when the rain started to down pour, sticky dirt on his boot and wetness in his clothes. He walked slower with his head tipped low, eyes on the final marking before the chest.
       With effort he managed to reach the final challenge, a riptide.
       The current roared and cheered, she made fun of Jack while he stood helpless. And then he saw it, a line that connected the two side by two giant Maua, the perfect slide-away. He wore his protective glove, climbed up the tree, grasped the line, and tested the strength. Unlike modern Zip-line, the rope was not made for such function. The only way is to hold on to it and start crawling horizontally on the line while facing upward.
       A tiresome crossing, Jack stood panting and sipped just enough water to hydrate his burning throat. The prize could wait.
       He regained his strength and started searching for the chest. According to the map, it was a three minutes walk from the stream and to the left of a stone plaque.