was already carrying.
The way down was just as steep as the way up had been. We had to be careful not to slip and go tumbling down with our bulky packs. Only Karl hurried ahead, dragging Flaca after him and talking to her out loud. Suddenly Kevin, Marcus, and I lost sight of them. Marcus grew anxious. He wanted us to call out in unison so that Karl would hear us and wait.
‘What’s the difference?’ Kevin asked. ‘We all have to go in the same direction anyway. We’ll catch up with him sooner or later.’
Marcus didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t conceal how worried he was. About half an hour later we came to a fork in the path. One direction seemed to be a continuation of the path we had been travelling, and the other cut off to the side. Kevin went striding resolutely along the main track.
‘Wait!’ Marcus cried. ‘How do you know that this is the right way? He could have gone the other way.’
‘Don’t be so uptight, Marcus. This is obviously the way. If Karl had turned off, he would have waited to tell us. Come on, let’s get going.’
‘No,’ Marcus insisted tremulously, ‘let’s wait here and call out until he comes back for us. It could be really dangerous if we lose him. We could get lost all alone in this jungle.’
‘Marcus, why don’t you just turn around and go back?’ Kevin asked testily.
‘What do you mean?’ Marcus demanded. ‘Go back where?’
‘You’re not going to enjoy this. You’re not cut out for it. Why don’t you just forget it and go back to town? It’s not too late. There are a lot of ranches back there on the way. You could even rent a donkey and make it back to Apolo by tomorrow.’
‘Bullshit!’ Marcus fumed. ‘Of course I’m enjoying myself. Who are you to decide if I’m going to enjoy myself or not?’
‘OK, forget it. Just forget it,’ Kevin closed the subject and walked on.
We trailed behind him in silence, the mood tense. After a while we spotted Karl and Flaca; they were sitting, resting next to a little stream.
‘Look what I found!’ Karl called, waving to us.
He was holding a large frog. I would never have believed that frogs could get that big. It must have weighed at least four pounds.
‘They taste like chicken,’ Karl said. ‘I sometimes eat them, but for now I’ll let Flaca have the pleasure.’
He skinned the frog and tossed Flaca a piece. To our amazement the dog wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Karl’s cooing and pleading did no good. Flaca just wasn’t interested.
After a few hours of arduous walking we came to a wide river.
‘Great,’ Karl said happily, ‘this is the Machariapo River. We don’t have far to go now.’
The river was deep; its waters came up to my chest. We hung our shoes around our necks. Karl cut some sturdy branches from the trees and demonstrated how to ford the stream, sticking the poles into the rocky bottom to brace ourselves against the current. Kevin went first, and Karl followed behind him, his pole in one hand and Flaca’s leash in the other. The dog treaded water weakly, trying to keep its head above the current. Marcus and I were last to cross. We tottered from side to side and almost lost our balance but finally reached the other side.
Karl suggested that we set up camp. We were tired enough to agree readily. Once again we erected a tent of bamboo poles and nylon sheeting. Karl started making dinner, and the rest of us stripped and raced back to the river.
We splashed around in the cool water, swimming with the current and then against it. Marcus had brought some soap, and we passed it around.
In the morning our packs were on our backs, and our spirits were high. We have just started out when we ran into two campesinos leading a huge, white bull by a rope tied to its horns. We tried to learn from them how much farther it was to Asriamas but couldn’t understand a word of their Spanish.
A while later we emerged from the jungle into a wide, grassy field fenced with barbed
The way down was just as steep as the way up had been. We had to be careful not to slip and go tumbling down with our bulky packs. Only Karl hurried ahead, dragging Flaca after him and talking to her out loud. Suddenly Kevin, Marcus, and I lost sight of them. Marcus grew anxious. He wanted us to call out in unison so that Karl would hear us and wait.
‘What’s the difference?’ Kevin asked. ‘We all have to go in the same direction anyway. We’ll catch up with him sooner or later.’
Marcus didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t conceal how worried he was. About half an hour later we came to a fork in the path. One direction seemed to be a continuation of the path we had been travelling, and the other cut off to the side. Kevin went striding resolutely along the main track.
‘Wait!’ Marcus cried. ‘How do you know that this is the right way? He could have gone the other way.’
‘Don’t be so uptight, Marcus. This is obviously the way. If Karl had turned off, he would have waited to tell us. Come on, let’s get going.’
‘No,’ Marcus insisted tremulously, ‘let’s wait here and call out until he comes back for us. It could be really dangerous if we lose him. We could get lost all alone in this jungle.’
‘Marcus, why don’t you just turn around and go back?’ Kevin asked testily.
‘What do you mean?’ Marcus demanded. ‘Go back where?’
‘You’re not going to enjoy this. You’re not cut out for it. Why don’t you just forget it and go back to town? It’s not too late. There are a lot of ranches back there on the way. You could even rent a donkey and make it back to Apolo by tomorrow.’
‘Bullshit!’ Marcus fumed. ‘Of course I’m enjoying myself. Who are you to decide if I’m going to enjoy myself or not?’
‘OK, forget it. Just forget it,’ Kevin closed the subject and walked on.
We trailed behind him in silence, the mood tense. After a while we spotted Karl and Flaca; they were sitting, resting next to a little stream.
‘Look what I found!’ Karl called, waving to us.
He was holding a large frog. I would never have believed that frogs could get that big. It must have weighed at least four pounds.
‘They taste like chicken,’ Karl said. ‘I sometimes eat them, but for now I’ll let Flaca have the pleasure.’
He skinned the frog and tossed Flaca a piece. To our amazement the dog wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Karl’s cooing and pleading did no good. Flaca just wasn’t interested.
After a few hours of arduous walking we came to a wide river.
‘Great,’ Karl said happily, ‘this is the Machariapo River. We don’t have far to go now.’
The river was deep; its waters came up to my chest. We hung our shoes around our necks. Karl cut some sturdy branches from the trees and demonstrated how to ford the stream, sticking the poles into the rocky bottom to brace ourselves against the current. Kevin went first, and Karl followed behind him, his pole in one hand and Flaca’s leash in the other. The dog treaded water weakly, trying to keep its head above the current. Marcus and I were last to cross. We tottered from side to side and almost lost our balance but finally reached the other side.
Karl suggested that we set up camp. We were tired enough to agree readily. Once again we erected a tent of bamboo poles and nylon sheeting. Karl started making dinner, and the rest of us stripped and raced back to the river.
We splashed around in the cool water, swimming with the current and then against it. Marcus had brought some soap, and we passed it around.
In the morning our packs were on our backs, and our spirits were high. We have just started out when we ran into two campesinos leading a huge, white bull by a rope tied to its horns. We tried to learn from them how much farther it was to Asriamas but couldn’t understand a word of their Spanish.
A while later we emerged from the jungle into a wide, grassy field fenced with barbed
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