PART FIVE: Everyone Takes All My Chocolate In Which Our Intrepid Traveler Makes an Honest Mistake; Cheats Death in His Usual Cavalier Manner; And is Unceremoniously Robbed of His Crispy Crunches. As it turns out, the Tobatu perceive the image of a strange, fully-armed man stumbling suddenly out of the brush and running towards them as some kind of threat. Ah, their nutty jungle ways Ñ still so mysterious to us. It appears that I hadn't done as much research into Tobatu culture as I'd thought. I blame Renato for what was ultimately an embarrassing and near-fatal encounter. Days later, after we have secured camp and were mingling daily with the tribe, I ask him about it. Why hadn't he warned me beforehand about not making sudden movements? "Because I don't like you," he replies. "I don't like you and I hope you get hurt badly." Suspecting Renato of having a bit too much sun, I do not press the issue further. But back to my first historic meeting with the Tobatu tribe of Brazil. I dart out of our hiding spot and sprint full-bore over to the natives, ignoring Booma's cries of "Stop!" and Stop, you idiot!" As I jog over I notice that the Tobatu are running to greet me. How nice, I think, as a wet log flies through the air and hits me square in the forehead. I collapse immediately into the river Ñ everything else happens very quickly. In seconds I am looking up at a veritable forest of drawn spears and angry, angry faces. "Hey, guys," I say nervously. My feelings are mixed. On one hand, I have finally made first contact with the fabled Tobatu, the last unfound tribe of the Amazon rainforest. Just as momentously, however, I am about to be murdered by them. Booma, as usual, has the presence of mind to jump in at the last minute. He throws some explanations around to the skeptical Tobatu warriors, who stare at me with angry, distrustful eyes. I nod like a retarded chimp at everything Booma tells them. Their stabbing arms gleam like coiled springs in the hot Brazilian sun. Oh Jesus, I think. They're going to kill me. I whisper a silent prayer that they at least leave my beautiful face intact Ñ no matter what, I want to leave a good-looking corpse. I then think through the matter further, and whisper a follow-up prayer that they avoid killing me entirely. Contemplating everything a little more thoroughly, I then whisper a third and final prayer with instructions to reverse the order in which I'd whispered the first two prayers. But I am reprieved, it seems. Whatever Booma has told them seems to do the trick. Spears withdraw like tendrils of smoke, and I am helped back up to my feet, relieved and shaking. "What did you tell them, Booms?" I ask, knocking some water and what looks to be a small cockroach out of my ear. "That was some nice damage control." "I told them you had a whole bag full of Crispy Crunches," he replies. "What? You idiot!" I yell, clutching at my knapsack as the Tobatu resume their positions of attack. I make a break for it, but the bag is soon wrested from my hands, along with the only bargaining tools I'd brought with me. With the chocolate gone, I will now have to get by on my wits alone for the remainder of the trip. Nobody is more frightened at the thought of this than myself. I really wish I'd brought that Luger. Wait. I did bring the Luger. There, in the bottom of the bag, where all my candy used to be, is the gleaming little deathstick and a few spare clips. This changes everything. I pocket the handgun quickly. Within minutes, the chocolate is divvied up amongst the entire tribe. Some lounge by the riverside, eating the candy, kicking aimlessly at the water. Others eat and chat with Booma and his warrior cohorts. Happy Tobatu faces beam at me wherever I turn. In a day, an hour maybe, I might once again be their enemy. But for now, I am Mr. Chocolate Bars, and consequently their best friend on the planet. I take advantage of the way the wind has turned, and mingle as best I can. About the Tobatu, then. I quickly scribble down notes, the pages stained from the trek in, ink bleeding down the page. For some memories, however, the notes prove unnecessary, and I suspect I will carry them with me always. Like, for instance, all the nude girls. Let me repeat that for emphasis: All the women in the Tobatu tribe are naked as jaybirds. The sheer emotional weight of this idea hits me like a ton of bricks as I mingle among the Tobatu for the first time: none of these fine ladies are wearing any clothes. Suffice it to say, this alone is worth the trip. One girl in particular, with long, elaborately cut black hair and a red tattoo across her left temple, makes me want to set up camp in Brazil forever. You hear me, Brazil? Yeah! Let me hear some noise if you think Brazilian ladies are the most beautiful ladies in the world, huh? Counteracting these good times are the Tobatu men, who are also, tragically, naked. Like Booma and the rest of my tribal travelling companions, the Korubu men are short, sturdy, and mercilessly un-pantsed. Rust-coloured patterns decorate their faces and chests, in designs that I strain to identify. Some are immediately recognizable, like a tiger or a lion. Concerning others I have no clue Ñ I blame shoddy artistry for this. Maybe they were training a new guy. One poor man, with a series of hastily drawn horizontal lines over his body, looks to resemble a sandwich, which is hardly menacing subject matter when you're keeping company with lions and tigers. I'm making a safe bet that "jungle sandwich" probably wasn't the look he'd originally been going for, and I wonder absently if he's at least gotten a discount for what was clearly a botched job. These are the thoughts that come to me as I walk among the Tobatu for the first time, intensely aware that I amthe first white man ever to do this, and feeling justifiably proud of myself. As I mingle, learn names, kiss babies and slap backs, two thoughts above all keep returning to me: one, that these people can just demolish a Crispy Crunch bar; and two, that they, like Renato, are pretty dull. Within a half hour I am already ready to pack up and go home. Just as I am grabbing my bag, however, Booma runs up to me with a big smile on his face. "I have excellent news for you," he says, grabbing my shoulder. "What's up?" I say. "Kikzu, the leader of the tribe, seeks audience with you," he says, breathlessly. "This is a high honour." "Fantastic," I say, adjusting my hat. "How do I look?" intro / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8