Lost in the Jungle (15 page)

I looked up. A family of enormous brown-coloured monkeys was watching us curiously and calling down to us.

‘They don’t taste as good as the marimono, the black one, but they’re OK,’ Karl said. ‘Let’s get one.’

He took aim and fired but missed his shot. From where I stood, it was an easy target. I had a clear view of the monkey.

‘Give me the shotgun,’ I said.

I took it from him, aimed, and fired. The monkey fell, grabbed at branches on its way down, plunged again, and then one of the lower boughs arrested its fall. Karl grabbed the shotgun from me and ran toward it.

‘It’s the size of a gorilla,’ he called out as he helped the monkey to a quick and merciful death with another shot fired at close range. The animal dropped to the ground. Karl gutted it right there on the spot to make it lighter. We carried it back to the camp together.

We found Kevin in a great mood. He had been snapping dozens of photos. We had our picture taken with our prey, holding our weapons.

Marcus tried to avoid acknowledging the monkey’s presence, though the smell of its scorched flesh, once we’d pitched it into the fire, was pervasive and unpleasant. Marcus had been fishing all morning and devoted all his attention to his task.

‘Yossi, come here, quick!’ he screamed excitedly.

The line was quivering; he had hooked a big fish, powerful and quick. I grabbed the line but didn’t have enough to give the fish any slack. I gently tried to slow it to a standstill. Now the battle was on. I took in a little line, and he took it back. I knew that the fish was strong enough to break a line of this thickness. I reeled it in a few yards; it pulled back with a fantastic burst of energy. The line resounded with a shrill hum. I gripped it tightly. The fish let up a little, and I took in a few more yards of line, and then the fish tried a new tack: it swam quickly toward me, making the line go slack, and then suddenly sprang out of the water with a tremendous leap. It was beautiful, covered with golden scales, about a yard long. We let out cries of admiration.

‘Dorado!’ Karl called out. ‘It’s a dorado, the best fish in the river.’

‘That’s my fish. I caught it. Give me back the line. Yossi, give it to me now,’ Marcus whined.

‘It’s not your fish,’ I yelled furiously. ‘It’s food for all four of us. Get out of my way now.’

Karl tried to calm Marcus down. Kevin was taking pictures; he caught every move I made.

After about fifteen minutes the fish got tired. I reeled it in, almost to the shore. Finally, when it was about six feet from the bank, Karl jumped into the water, grabbed hold of it, and tossed it up onto the sand. It was enormous, glinting golden in the sun.

‘Nice going, Yossi,’ Karl crowed, and slapped me on the back.

Karl took good care of us as usual. He wanted us to enjoy our dinner and made a cucumber salad with garlic and lemon. He had collected the fat from the fish and melted it in the pan to fry slices of plantain.

Dinner was served. We all held our bowls in our laps and busied ourselves eating. The fish was delicious, white, tender, and boneless. Marcus sat on a log at a distance from the rest of us. He looked depressed. I went over and sat next to him.

‘I’m sorry I acted like a baby,’ he said, ‘but I’ve never caught a fish before, and I wanted to land it myself. I know it was stupid of me. I apologise.’

‘Forget it, Marcus,’ I replied. ‘I owe you an apology, too. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I wasn’t just trying to show off. It’s just that I knew we needed the food. I mean, all of us would rather eat fish than monkey.’

‘You’re right, Yossi. I’m glad that we can talk. I don’t know what to do. Kevin is so hostile to me.’

‘He’s just in a rotten mood because we aren’t going to be going on down the river. It’s hard for him to accept the fact that we’re giving up and going back.’

‘To tell you the truth,’ Marcus said, ‘I would just as soon go on, too, even if it is dangerous. At least we wouldn’t have to walk. I don’t know if I can take a long walk.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Karl says it will only take two days. Then we can get mules to go on.’

‘Maybe so, but Karl also claimed that the Indian village would only be a five-day walk, and he was wrong.’

Later, Karl and I remained alone by the fire.

‘So, what did I tell you?’ he asked contentedly. ‘Rest, good fishing, good hunting, good talk under a moonlit sky. As far as I’m concerned, you can’t beat it.’ He paused. ‘Weird, isn’t it, how the three of you ended up here with me? Three characters: Kevin –
fuerte como tres hombres
[with the strength of three men]; you –
adventurero
; and Marcus –
turista, tipico professor
.’

The next day Kevin systematically pumped Karl for every last detail about the
mal paso
and canyon. Karl was happy to answer his questions in order to prove how reasonable and logical his decision to turn back had been. He marked the approximate location of the canyon and the dangerous pass on the map.

Marcus harboured suspicions that Kevin wasn’t asking all those questions out of idle curiosity. He asked me about it privately and said that if we were planning to go on by raft, he would seriously consider joining us.

‘If you two are going on together,’ he said, ‘it could be very risky. Three pairs of hands are better than two.’

‘I don’t know, Marcus,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what Kevin has in mind.’

Later, when I told Kevin that Marcus wanted to join us, he objected vehemently.

‘He can’t come. He would ruin everything. There’s no getting around it, we’ll just have to tell him that we don’t want him along.’

‘We can’t do that. He gets his feelings hurt so easily. We’ll have to find some other way.’

Dissuading Marcus turned out to be rather simple. Marcus hadn’t given up on catching a fish. He sat on the bank of the Ipurama trying to hook a minnow. I went over to him.

‘You were right, Marcus,’ I told him, ‘Kevin really does intend to go on with the raft. It would be too big of a disappointment for him to just turn around and go back to La Paz. He told me just now.’

‘Does he intend to do it alone?’ Marcus asked, marvelling.

‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘and I think it’s crazy, a good way to get killed, but he’s just plain stubborn, and nothing will change his mind. If he tries to do it alone, he doesn’t stand a chance. He’ll never make it alive. So one of us has to go along to help him.’

‘Only one of us?’ Marcus asked. ‘Why not both of us?’

‘Well, I’d just as soon go back with Karl. I’ve had enough walking in the jungle and enough of this river. I’m ready to head back, but if I have no other choice, I’ll go on with Kevin. Two together could make it, and I’m not about to let him commit suicide. The truth is, however, I’d rather you go. Your feet hurt, and you’d be better off on the raft than walking anyway. Why don’t you go on with Kevin, and I’ll go back with Karl?’

‘No way,’ Marcus protested. ‘I’m not going anywhere with Kevin by myself. You’ve seen the way he treats me. I’m really sorry, Yossi, but there’s not a chance. I’ll go with Karl.’

‘In that case I guess I’ll have to go with Kevin.’

Everything was settled.

I hurried off to find Kevin and proudly tell him how I had conned Marcus into doing as we had planned. Kevin looked thoughtful.

‘So,’ he said, ‘now we can lay our cards on the table.’

We went over to Karl and told him that we were planning on going on alone.

Karl was more than fair. He wasn’t angry and didn’t try to change our minds. He was just worried and warned us of the dangers we might encounter.

Kevin asked him for a straight yes or no. ‘Is it possible to make it through the canyon?’

‘I’ve already told you about the
cajón
. There are two rock faces rising straight up on either side of the river. Once you’re in there, there’s no way that you can stop. The current will take you straight to the dangerous pass.’

‘What’s so dangerous about it? Can we make it through?’ I asked.

Karl scoffed at the idea. ‘Not a chance. Four skilled
balseros
wouldn’t even consider attempting it. And there’s only two of you. It would be suicidal. It’s called Mal Paso San Pedro for good reason. Do you know who San Pedro is? He’s the guy that stands at the Pearly Gates. And that’s just what they meant when they named the pass after him. Anyone who enters the
mal paso
can expect a personal encounter with San Pedro.’

‘How is it that you know so much about it?’ I asked curiously.

‘I’ve bypassed it over the mountains by foot and seen it from above. When I did it three or four years ago, there was a trail already cut, so it was pretty easy going. The trail was a year old, but I could still use it. By now it’ll be all grown over, and I doubt that you’ll find any trace of it.’

‘Is there any way to tell where we should even look for the trail and how far we can go by raft?’ Kevin asked.

Our original plan had been to come to the mouth of the canyon, dismantle the raft, and put it back together on the other side.

‘Just the two of you won’t be able to do that by yourselves. The only thing you can do is to stop before the canyon and just leave the raft there. If you make it past the pass, you’ll come to Curiplaya. There won’t be a living soul there this time of year. The miners go home at the end of the dry season by raft. Every year before they leave, however, they chop down balsa trees and leave them to dry and be ready for the following year. Once you make it to Curiplaya, all you’ll have to do is find some
panchos
and put together a small raft from the dry logs. From there on, the river is nice and smooth, and you shouldn’t have any problems.

‘If you do build a raft in Curiplaya, don’t forget to cut down balsa trees to replace the ones you take. It isn’t hard work, and it’s only fair to the villagers. If you like, you can even pan for a little gold in Curiplaya. If you have a good look around, you’ll find digging tools and
bateas
. The miners leave everything there. And there’s also a banana grove there and good fishing.’

Kevin had little patience. ‘Karl, stick to the point. How will we know for sure where to stop before entering the canyon, and where should we look for the trail?’

‘Take it easy, Kevin,’ Karl laughed. ‘Yossi, you’ll have to watch that he doesn’t go over the speed limit on the river.’

He marked our position on the map he had drawn and drew a line representing the Tuichi.

‘This is the river. From here on it’s rough going, but if you’re willing to risk going by raft, it will save you two days of walking. You can’t miss the mouth of the canyon. You’ll see a big island covered with tall trees right in the middle of the river. On your left you’ll see a narrow shore. That’s where you have to stop. Don’t forget. When you see the island up ahead, start pulling over. If you have any trouble, dive into the water and swim for it. Don’t, under any circumstances, go into the
cajón
.’

‘OK, Karl. Don’t worry, we won’t,’ Kevin said, clearly exasperated. ‘So that means we raft down till we come to the big island. There’s a shore on the left bank. Is that where the trail will be?’

‘Exactly.’

‘How long will it take us to get around the canyon?’

‘It all depends. About two days if you find the trail. If it’s completely overgrown, it could take you a lot longer.’

Kevin thought for a moment, then turned to me and asked, ‘How does it sound to you, Yossi?’

‘My grandmother could do it.’ Karl and Kevin began dividing up our equipment.

‘You obviously will need the machete,’ Karl said. ‘Otherwise you won’t be able to build a new raft. We will probably have a hard time getting through the jungle without it, but we can make do with the knife. As for the shotgun, you need – ’

‘We won’t be needing the shotgun,’ Kevin broke in, ‘but we’ll take the fishing line and hooks. You take the shotgun and ammunition. We won’t have any time for hunting, and anyway the ammunition is likely to get wet in the river.’

‘OK, fine,’ Karl agreed. ‘If we’re taking the shotgun, then you can take most of the food. I’m sure that Marcus and I will find plenty of game. You can take the nylon sheeting too. It’ll help keep your equipment dry. We won’t be able to set up camp without a machete anyway. We’ll take the pup tent,’ Karl concluded.

Karl and Kevin went over each item together in this way. We hadn’t yet touched the monkey meat. Karl gave us that except for two small slabs. The lighter presented a problem, for we had only one left. Kevin and I retained possession of it, but we left them ten of the twenty matches we still had and half the paper for striking them. Kevin gave Marcus those of his possessions that he had decided not to take with him. He gave him his precious rolls of exposed negatives with the hundreds of pictures he had taken during the past month along with the accessories to his camera and the tripod.

‘They’ll be safer with you,’ he said to Marcus.

That afternoon Kevin went out to get the feel of the river. He swam downstream and came back on foot through the jungle.

‘It’s not so good,’ he told me. ‘Just a quarter of a mile downstream there’s already a dangerous pass. I hope we won’t have any problems getting past it.’