📸 Photo

I rummaged in the pack for the fishing line. I tied it tightly around a rock and heaved it up at the tree. The line wrapped around a branch and caught. I tugged at the line, shaking the branch . . . and it worked! Fruit rained to the ground. I threw the line again and again, until the ground about me was covered with fruit and leaves. I hungrily broke a piece apart and put the pits into my mouth. There wasn't much flesh on each one, but I had an abundance. Now I could relax a bit.

I started gathering wood for a fire. There was no scarcity of kindling on the shore. I carefully chose the best. Karl had taught me what to look for. There are some branches that never soak up any water. Gray-coloured, they are hard and heavy and burn for great lengths of time. At first I gathered up only wood of this quality. Then I selected thick logs to set near the fire to dry out. They would later catch fire and burn for hours. In the morning, after smouldering all through the night, they would still be red, and the fire would easily rekindle.

While I was gathering wood, I felt a sudden dizziness. Black circles swam before my eyes, the world was spinning, my legs gave out from under me, and I sank to the ground. I don't know how long I lay there unconscious, but it couldn't have been for long because when I came to, the sun hadn't yet changed its position. I staggered to the river, splashed water on my face, and drank thirstily. I went back to work, meticulously arranging firewood