The Vivero Letter

But maybe I'm wrong, because I did take as much loot from the dead chiclero as I could. It was too precious to leave behind. I took his rifle, his pack, the contents of his pockets, a bandolier stuffed with cartridges .and a nice new machete, as sharp as a razor and much better than those I had been using. I would have taken his clothing too, for use as a disguise, had I not heard voices on the trail. That scared me off and I slipped away into the forest, intent on putting as much distance between me and those voices as I could.

I don't know if they discovered the bodies then or at a later time because, in my hurry to get away, I got thoroughly lost for the rest of the day. All I knew was that Gatt's trail to Uaxuanoc was somewhere to the west, but by the time I'd figured that out it was too dark to do anything about it, and I spent the night up a tree.

Oddly enough, I was in better shape than at any time since the helicopter crashed. I had food and nearly three quarts of water. I was more accustomed to moving in the forest and did not have to do as much useless chopping with the machete, and one man can go where two men can't -- especially when one of the two is sick. Without poor Harry I was more mobile. Then again, I had the rifle. I didn't know what I was going to to do with it, but I stuck to it on general principles.

The next morning, as soon as it was light enough to see, I headed west, hoping to strike the trail. I travelled a hell of a long way and I thought I'd made a terrible mistake. I knew if I didn't find that trail then I'd never 'find Uaxuanoc, and I'd probably leave my bones somewhere in the forest when my food and water ran out, so I was justifiably anxious. I didn't find the trail, but I nearly ran into a bullet as someone raised a shout and took a shot at me.

The bullet went high and clipped leaves from a bush, and I took to my heels and got out of there fast. From then on there was a strange, slow-motion chase in the humid green dimness of the forest floor. The bush was so thick that you could be standing right next to a man and not know he was there if he were quiet enough. Imagine putting the Hampton Court maze into one of the big tropical houses at Kew, populating it with a few armed thugs with murder in their hearts, and you in the middle, the object of their unloving attentions.

I tried to move as quietly as I could, but my knowledge of woodcraft dates back to Fenimore Cooper and I wasn't so good at the Silent Savage bit. But then, neither were the chicleros. They crashed about and shouted one to the other, and a couple of shots were loosed off at random but nowhere near me. After a while I began to get over my immediate fright and the conviction grew upon me that if I chose a thickish bit of forest and just stood still I was as likely to get away with it as if I kept on running.

So I did that and stood screened by leaves with my hands sweaty on the rifle until the noise of pursuit disappeared. I didn't move out immediately, either. The greatest danger was the man more brainy than the others who would be doing me same as me -- just standing quietly and waiting for me to come into view. So I waited a full hour before moving, and then, again, I headed west.

This time I found the trail. I burst into it unexpectedly, but luckily there wasn't anyone in sight. I hastily withdrew and looked at my watch to find it was after five in the afternoon, not far from nightfall. I debated with myself whether or not to take a chance and use the trail. I was tired, and perhaps my judgement wasn't as keen as it ought to have been, because I said out loud, The hell with it!' and boldly stepped out. Again it was a relief to have unhampered freedom of movement. There was no need for the machete, so I unslung the rifle and took it in both hands, and made good time, conscious that every step brought me nearer Uaxuanoc and safety.

This time I surprised a chiclero. He was standing in the trail with his back to me and I could smell the smoke of the foul cigarette he was puffing. I was retreating cautiously when, apparently by some sixth sense, he became aware of me and turned fast. I popped off a shot at him and he promptly fell flat and rolled into cover. The next thing was an answering shot, so close that I felt the thrill of air on my cheek.