📸 Photo

medicines, and most important, my wallet with Uncle Nissim's little book. Now I wouldn't die. I felt safe.

I opened the first-aid kit hoping to find some petroleum jelly for my feet. There was none. I found a bottle of pills, some of them unmarked, and a small box labelled 'Speed.' The pills might come in handy. There was also snakebite serum in the kit.

Thus equipped, I felt better.

Somebody up there likes me, I thought. Just let Kevin find me.

Up until now I had thought him the better off of the two of us – at least he had the machete – but now I was a wealthy man, and he, poor guy, had only the clothes on his back. Poor Kevin had nothing; he must need me. I had food and could start a fire. He just had to find me. Without me he didn't have a chance.

It was still pouring with rain, and I shivered with cold. I hurriedly closed the pack and set it down in a niche of the cliff. I kept only the poncho to protect me from the rain. Then it occurred to me that I should hang it up in some conspicuous place. It was bright red and might catch Kevin's eye. I saw a crag jutting prominently over the river. I climbed up to it and spread the poncho out over it, weighing it down with heavy stones so that it wouldn't blow away in the wind. Again I called out to Kevin, but I knew the shouts were pointless. The roar of the water