PART FOUR: First Contact In Which Our Intrepid Traveler Gets Taunted Once Again By The Locals; Is Given an Unwelcome Tale of Jungle Savagery; And Plunges Deep Into The Perilous Wild. I awake at first light surrounded by nude men with weapons. I am at a loss for words. Suddenly, one comes to me. "AGGHHHH!" At the sound of my shriek, the naked men assume positions of alert naked defense, brandishing dangerously pointy-looking spears and sharpened stones. Not to be outdone, I assume a position of naked terror, curling up into a fetal position inside my sleeping bag. Luckily enough, Renato and Booma soon burst through the brush and sort the misunderstanding out. As it turns out, the crazy-looking naked men with the sharp sticks and cock-strings are friends of Booma's. Go figure. I treat myself to a quick wash-up in the Javari, admiring the little fishy-things in the shallow water which, one innocent finger-pet and a half-gallon of blood later, I deduce to be pirhanas. While I nurse my wound, I notice for the first timeŅa foul stench that creeps out from the dense forest and pervades everything around me. It is at once alarming and intriguing, and I vow to question Renato on the matter later. This proves unnecessary, as I return to camp and discover the stench to be breakfast. I am given a piece of tree bark with boiled leaves and tree roots slopped onto it, which I pretend to eat but discard quickly under the subterfuge of coughing. Elsewhere, Booma chats and laughs with his new group of friends, who I learn are from several of the neighbouring tribes that live in the rain forest. It is my sincerest hope that they aren't swapping recipes. I find myself left alone with Renato for the first time since our boat trip the previous day, and I take advantage of the opportunity to get my bearings on the recent whirlwind of new faces and activity. "What's with the nudes, Renato?" I ask, cocking a thumb at the group behind me, who, like the airport children, seem to be having great laughs at my expense, this time concerning my earlier terror. I pretend to ignore one of the stockier ones, who presents a ham-fisted impression of my cowering to tremendous applause. "We will bring them with us, and have greater strength in numbers," answers Renato. I'm impressed with how easily he's managing to keep breakfast down. "If the Tobatu see more people whom they recognize and trust in our party, there is less chance that they will attack. Also, Booma and his tribesmen are skilled warriors. In the event that we must fight, they will prove very useful." Hold the damn phone Ņ I hadn't been briefed on any of this. If I'd known there would be people trying to kill me, I'd have brought my Luger and a suitcase full of clips. Renato acts like the conversation's a shut book, but I prod him for more information. "Last year two explorers went in search of the Tobatu without proper escort," he continues, "and were found shot to death with poisoned arrows." "Holy Jesus," I add. "Yes," says Renato, clearly pleased that I'm finally showing an interest in one of his interminable stories. "The Tobatu cut out their eyes and sliced the scalps from their skulls. You must understand, the Tobatu have watched their land be decimated for decades now. They are very distrustful of outsiders." "Out with the eyes, eh?" This is no good. If Renato's earlier comments are to be trusted, my big beauties will prove irresistible to them. "Why the hell didn't you tell me any of this risky business earlier?" Renato laughs. I resist the urge to deck him. "I did not want to worry you, sir. You Americans are frightened so easily." I can't help but notice that he says the last part far louder than is necessary. Naturally, everyone has another good laugh at my expense, their dangling cockstrings swinging in the morning sun. Renato positively beams. So Mr. Popular's trying to make friends. "You've got some sweat on your forehead, Renato," I say. "You might want to get a couple of towels on that before you drown." Booma translates at my request, and the natives get a solid laugh out of it. Renato gives me a nasty look. Undaunted, I throw some candy bars around to seal the deal. I don't care if Renato has slowly gained their trust for years. With a few well-timed jokes at his expense and a handful of Crispy Crunches, I'll have these guys in my pocket by noon. We break camp soon after, slicing a path north into the dense wall of the Amazon. The air is hot and suffocating, thick with bugs. Little sunlight breaks through the jungle canopy. Talk is kept to a minimum, and Booma and his cohorts take the lead, following unseen signs and leading us deeper into the rainforest's heart. It is exhilarating. I soon find myself getting right into it, pretending I'm in an army platoon. Renato catches me saying "semper fi, over" into my binoculars, though, and the look he gives me tells me I should keep quiet for the time being. All at once, Booma stops in his tracks and gives the signal for us to be still. Moving with catlike grace, he stalks several careful steps forward. He stands completely still and listens for what seem like hours. Then finally he reaches out and pulls back several fronds in the forest wall to reveal a river in the distance. Only then do I hear the sound of far-off voices, cheerful and exhilaratingly foreign. Booma motions me towards him, and I creep forward with slightly less coordinated catlike grace. He puts his finger to his lips as I approach, soundlessly pointing down-river. There, crouched by the riverbank and oblivious to our presence, are the fabled Tobatu. "Hot damn!" I yell, before Booma can slap a hand to my mouth. intro / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8