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retrieve the logs. By the time the other two get
there, the raft will have been reassembled with
panchos. From there it’s a breeze, but before we
reach that point, the dangers are great. You don’t
know how to use the poles. A real balsero can
make excellent use of a pole, just like a paddle.’

‘So why don’t we just make some more oars?’
Marcus asked.

‘An excellent idea,’ Karl agreed. ‘Tomorrow we’ll
look for some balsa trees and cut a few oars.’

Later that evening Kevin and I sat together
talking quietly.

‘Believe me,’ Kevin insisted, ‘Karl doesn’t know
what he’s talking about. It’s obvious that he knows
nothing about rivers. He’s making such a big deal
out of this bad pass, like it’s so dangerous. You
wait and see, we’ll take the raft through tomorrow
with no sweat. If you’re willing, the two of us could
take it through. No problem. Besides, I don’t trust
him. Why did he only now suddenly remember to
tell us about this San Pedro Canyon? There’s
something fishy about the whole thing. Karl is a
strange guy.’

Right after breakfast Karl and Kevin went to
look for balsa trees to cut oars and soon found
some a little way upriver. Balsa trees are very tall
with lots of branches, but their trunks are so
brittle that it only takes a few machete chops to
fell them.

‘We’ll cut each one down the middle lengthwise
and get an oar out of each half,’ Karl said after they’d