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that meant spending another entire day in the jungle, and I wouldn't be sleeping in San José that night. I had had such high hopes of making it. There was nothing that I could do about it, however. There was no choice but to wait for the storm to blow over, for the river to recede so that I might cross it and be on my way.

I lay back down. My empty stomach was beyond grumbling or growling. I now felt the hunger with my entire body, a primordial need to eat, but all I had were the fruits of my imagination.

I suppose close to half an hour had passed when I became aware of water running down my back and shoulders. How could that be? I had a thick roof of leaves. Cold water reached my buttocks and feet. Then I grasped what had happened and had no time to spare. Both rivers were flooding, and I, fool that I was, hadn't seen it coming. The ground was level and flooded in a flash. I hurriedly knelt and shoved everything into my pack, including my socks and shoes. I didn't have time to close the rubber sack but rushed outside in my bare feet and began running. The water was already up to my ankles and would soon be knee deep. I ran in a panic but realised almost immediately that I had forgotten my walking stick in the shelter. I wasn't about to abandon my trusty walking stick. I set my pack down on a little rise and ran back.

By the time I had reclaimed the stick and had returned to the pack, the water was already past