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📸 Photo

it over. Maybe by the time you’re back from your trip, one of you will want to settle down here with me. Goodbye for now.’

This was our fourth day of hiking, and our heavy packs seemed to have found their proper repose on our backs. Though we were by now inured to the burden, we were nevertheless weary and anxious to reach Asriamas.

We made our way up and down a few steep hills in the jungle and heard the faint rush of flowing water.

‘Listen,’ Karl exclaimed happily, ‘that’s the Tuichi.’

We hastened forward until we came to the riverbank. It was a stunning sight. The river was wide, at least a hundred yards across. Its waters were clear and calm. The current was mild. On the other side we could see thatched roofs. At long last we were there.

‘How do we get across the river, Karl?’ I asked.

‘You see those wooden platforms on the other side? Those are balsa rafts. We’ll soon catch sight of someone and holler for him to bring us over.’

We waited for about half an hour.

‘Maybe we should fire a shot,’ Karl suggested. ‘Somebody’s bound to hear it.’

The shotgun was slung over my shoulder. I fired lazily, the butt of the shotgun resting on my hip. The blast was incredible, the sound deafening. It was the first time that I had ever fired a shotgun. I held on to my side where it hurt from the powerful kick of the gun.

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