The two friends had an early breakfast, then set off with Jamie in the little canoe. He would take them as far as a nearby lagoon. They had told him they were going fishing and had already arranged to be picked up later to go back to town.
“We can easily walk back to the river from the lagoon, and if anything goes wrong we’ll wait for the surveillance boat that passes mid-afternoon,” Molly reassured him. Of course, they planned on walking into the jungle, following their sketchy map.
The canoe ride to the lagoon was magnificent. They turned off the main river and were surrounded by huge trees. Groups of monkeys scampered through the branches. A turn in the stream revealed the beautiful lagoon, where the surface of the water seemed to dance. It looked like it was raining, but in fact the water was alive with fish leaping and splashing. The surrounding trees were full of birds. This was a feeding hole.
They clambered out of the canoe and onto the bank. They thanked Jamie for his hospitality, waved him goodbye and started to walk.
Molly breathed it all in. There were sounds everywhere from the birds with their magical calls. And when the cicadas started up their chorus, it was as if the trees themselves had sprung into song. The air was filled with the fresh smells of the water and the rich, dampness of the jungle undergrowth. Everything vibrated with a powerful energy. Jonathan was taking pictures from all directions. He wanted to record it for all time. But he was also nervous and felt safe looking through the lens of the camera.
They followed the edge of the river where the undergrowth was not too thick and there seemed to be a trail. Although it was overgrown, it looked to Molly like it had been maintained in the recent past. She saw branches that had been chopped back, and there was a large tree that had been cut through. Jonathan had noticed it too and took extra photos.
They were wearing knee-high rubber boots and two pairs of socks to stop blisters. It was hot on the feet, but they could walk easily through the muddy patches. They climbed over the buttress roots of huge trees that crossed the path, ducked under overhanging branches and clambered up and down natural staircases formed by tree roots. It was a hard trek in the heat.
They followed Linorio’s map. Molly knew the river could change course dramatically, and the landscape might now be very different. But Linorio had marked a trail that he thought would always be there, and the map showed where north was. They kept the compass out at all times, always conscious of where they had come from and the direction they were going in. Jonathan took photographs every few hundred meters and jotted a few notes down from time to time as extra guidelines. They were confident they would be able to find their way back along this same route.