📸 Photo

and to the left.' I sang out the rhythm of my steps as I made for the river along a diagonal course. Singing helped to keep my spirits up.

There was far less foliage on the higher ground, and I progressed quite rapidly. From time to time I came across a stream and stopped to drink. I felt I could safely empty the two big cans of water, and my shoulders were greatly relieved.

After a few hours' walk, however, I once again felt the dread of uncertainty. The sun was directly overhead, and I hadn't the slightest idea where I was. I feared that I might well be marching away from the river. I might end up on the other side of the mountain, lost forever where no one would find me. It was so easy to lose one's way and one's wits.

Nevertheless I knew that any source of water, however small, would lead me to the river, and before long I found a rivulet flowing in an irregular course. It trickled downward, and I followed it along. It descended the rock faces in leaps and bounds, cascading in waterfalls, and I was forced to leave it in search of a more moderate slope on which to make my own descent. I went on like that until I came to a waterfall that gushed downward from an immense height of one hundred and fifty feet, far higher than any other I had encountered. The sight of the water surging down from that height was awesome. For a moment I considered getting Kevin's camera out of the pack and taking a picture, but it would have been a difficult feat, and I changed my mind.