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I hesitated. I had already resigned myself to going back, but Kevin rekindled my spirit of adventure.

‘We can do it,’ Kevin said. ‘We can go on alone.’

As Karl had promised, our holiday at the river junction was the best part of the trip so far. We enjoyed surprisingly clear weather. It was the end of November, and by the beginning of December the rainy season is usually in full force.

‘That’s another good reason for going back,’ he had insisted. ‘Try to imagine what it’s like getting caught in a rainstorm. Apart from being unpleasant, it’s dangerous. The river floods its banks, and the current gets even stronger. I’m amazed that we’re having such good weather.’

On the second morning at our makeshift resort Karl and I took up the shotgun and machete and went hunting.

‘We’ll walk a little way up the Ipurama,’ Karl proposed. It looks as good a place as any, and we can look around for a trail to take when we start walking.’

We walked upstream for about an hour, plodding through the jungle. We saw neither machete marks nor broken branches and could only surmise that no other human beings had passed that way.

Unexpectedly we heard a loud roar.

‘A jaguar! A jaguar!’ Karl shouted.

I looked about, scared out of my wits. I couldn’t see anything, but the roaring grew louder, and