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〃There's something I've been wondering；〃 Tom said。 〃When we left Pito Solo； you talked as if you'd never be ing back。 Why was that？〃
Don Alfonso sipped his coffee； his glasses reflecting the flickering glow of the fire。 〃Tomasito； when the time es； you will learn the answer to this question and many others。〃
〃Why did you e on this trip？〃
〃It was prophesied。〃
〃That's not a good reason。〃
Don Alfonso turned his face to Tom。 〃Destiny is not a reason。 It's an explanation。 We will speak no more of this。〃
* * *
The Macaturi was the broadest of the five rivers flowing into the Laguna Negra。 It was a more navigable river than the Patuca； deep and clean； without sandbars or hidden snags。 As they motored up the river the sun broke over the distant hills； tingeing them a greenish gold。 Don Alfonso had taken his usual throne on top of the heap of supplies； but his mood was different。 No longer did he offer philosophical reflections on life； talk about sex； plain about his ungrateful sons； or call out the names of the birds and animals。 He just sat and smoked and gazed ahead with troubled eyes。
The two boats continued upriver in silence for several hours。 As they rounded a bend； a large tree appeared； lying across the river； blocking their way。 It had recently fallen； and the leaves were still green。
〃This is strange；〃 muttered Don Alfonso。 He called out to Chori； and they slowed their boat to let Pingo's boat； which was behind them； catch up and pass。 Vernon was amidships； leaning back against the gunwale； taking in the sun。 He waved as they went by。
Pingo angled the dugout toward the far side of the river； where the fallen tree was thinnest and therefore easiest to chop through。
Suddenly Don Alfonso dove for the tiller and shoved it all the way to the right。 Their dugout swerved and heeled almost to the point of capsizing。 〃Get down！〃 he screamed。 〃Down！〃
At the same instant a burst of automatic…weapons fire rang out of the forest。
Tom threw himself on Sally and slammed her to the bottom of the boat as a line of bullets ripped through the side of the dugout； showering them with splinters。 He could hear the bullets slapping the water around them and the shouts of the attackers。 He twisted his head and saw Don Alfonso crouching in the stern； one hand still on the handle of the motor； steering them toward the shelter of an overhanging embankment。
An unearthly scream rose up from the boat behind them。 Somebody had been hit。
Tom lay on top of Sally。 He could see nothing but the mass of her blond hair and the scarred wooden hull beneath them。 The screaming continued in the other boat…an inhuman wail of terror and pain。 Tom thought； It's Vernon。 Vernon's been shot。 The firing continued； but now the bullets seemed to be passing above their heads。 The boat scraped the bottom； scraped again； the propeller grinding on rocks in the shallows。
The firing and the screaming stopped at the same time。 They had reached the cover of the embankment。
Don Alfonso scrambled back to his feet and looked behind。 Tom could hear him shouting in Tawahka； but there was no answer。
Tom rose cautiously； lifting Sally。 There were flecks of blood on her cheek where splinters of wood had cut her。
〃Are you all right？〃
She nodded mutely。
Their boat was now running alongside a high embankment of boulders and brush； almost underneath the overhanging bushes。 He sat up and turned to the dugout behind； calling to his brother。 〃Vernon！ Vernon！ Are you hurt？〃 Tom could see there was a bloody hand clutching the tiller of the dugout behind。 〃Vernon！〃 Tom screamed。
Vernon rose up shakily from the center of the boat。 He looked stunned。
〃Vernon！ My God； are you okay？〃
〃Pingo's hurt。〃
〃How bad？〃
〃Really bad。〃
The cough and roar of a boat engine sounded upriver； and then a second one。 Tom could hear distant shouts。
Don Alfonso steered the boat as close as possible to the embankment。 Vernon had taken the tiller of his boat and was following。
〃We can't outrun them；〃 Tom said。
Sally turned to Chori。 〃Give me your gun。〃
Chori looked at her； unprehending。
Without waiting Sally grabbed the gun； checked to see it was loaded； slammed the bolt back； and crouched in the stern。
〃You can't stop them with that；〃 Tom cried。 〃They've got automatic weapons。〃
〃I can sure as hell slow them down。〃
Tom could see their two boats ing around the bend in the river； the soldiers aiming their weapons。
〃Down！〃
Tom heard a single shot from Sally's gun just as a burst of gunfire raked the vegetation hanging down over them； showering them with leaves。 The shot had the desired effect： The two boats veered off in a panic for the cover of the riverbank。 Sally dropped down next to Tom。
Don Alfonso was steering their boat under the embankment； the propeller striking rocks and whining as it was forced out of the water。 More bullets whizzed overhead； and there was a dull metallic clank as one of the rounds struck the engine。 The engine spluttered； then there was a whoosh as it caught fire； the boat turning broadside to the sluggish current。 The fire spread with incredible speed； the flames leaping up from the melting rubber gas lines。 The prow of Pingo and Vernon's boat bumped into their hull from behind； jamming up against it as burning gas began to spread on the bottom of their boat； licking up around the gas tanks。
〃Out！〃 said Tom。 〃They're going to blow。 Grab what you can！〃
They threw themselves over the sides and into the shallows along the riverbank。 Vernon and Chori grabbed Pingo and carried him up the embankment。 Another burst of gunfire slammed into the bank above them； sending dirt and pebbles cascading down； but Sally's shot had made the soldiers cautious； and they were keeping their distance。 The fugitives scrambled up the dirt embankment and took cover beneath a mass of overhanging vegetation； stopping to catch their breath。
〃We've got to keep going；〃 Tom cried。
At the top of the embankment Tom looked back only once； to see their boats drifting downstream； flames leaping。 There was a muffled explosion as the gas can in one of the boats exploded； sending a ball of flame skyward。 Beyond； the boats with the soldiers were cautiously angling in toward shore。 Sally； still carrying Chori's gun； dropped to a knee and fired a second shot through the screen of vegetation。
They retreated deeper into the jungle； taking turns carrying Pingo； forcing their way through the thick vegetation。 From behind Tom could hear more shouting； followed by some random shooting through the forest and the muffled crump of another exploding gas tank。 The men had evidently landed their boats and were halfheartedly chasing them。 But as they pushed deeper into the forest； the sporadic gunfire grew fainter until the sounds disappeared altogether。
They halted in a small grassy clearing。 Tom and Vernon laid Pingo down； and Tom bent over him； desperately feeling for a pulse。 There was none。 He located the wound。 It was horrifying。 An expanding bullet had struck Pingo in the back； between the shoulder blades； and emerged with explosive force from his chest； leaving a gaping hole more than six inches across。 It had passed dir