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until he jumped into the river. I ran like hell, too, but wasn't stung.

Karl chuckled with satisfaction. ‘Hey, Kevin, so where's the turkey?’

Kevin rubbed his aching body. ‘At least twenty bees stung me, the bastards. I hope they choke on the damn turkey! I'm not going back in there.’

The next morning Marcus's feet were in terrible shape. The splotches had spread out, and he was in agony. He smeared them with petroleum jelly again before he put his shoes on and covered them with plastic bags. He wanted to try to keep them dry, an impossibility when wading in a river. Fortunately by afternoon we were back in Asriamas.

Don Jorge's children were the first to see us coming and ran back to the village, calling out joyfully that we had returned. A few women came out to welcome us. Don Jorge's wife was among them, along with her mother and neighbours. They were genuinely happy to see us again. And someone else was happy to see us as well.

She rose from where she had been lying in the shade of the cookhouse, yawned widely, and came to greet us, wagging her tail. Flaca! Karl was amazed to find her alive and well. He tried to hide how happy he was and gave her a swift kick in the backside, as if to say, ‘We've had it with you, you traitor.’

A boy was sent to call Don Jorge from the fields.