"Which brings up an interesting point. How far away is the Paraguay River?"
"This time of the year, eight hours."
"Brazilian hours?"
She smiled at this. "You've learned that time is slower here. Eight to ten hours, American time."
"By canoe?"
"That's how we travel. I used to have a boat with a motor. But it was old, and it eventually wore out."
"How long does it take if you have a boat with a motor?"
"Five hours, more or less. It's the flood season, and it's easy to get lost."
"So I've learned."
"The rivers run together. You'll need to take one of the fishermen with you when you leave. There's no way you'll find the Paraguay without a guide."
"And you go once a year?"
"Yes, but I go in the dry season, in August. It's cooler then, not as many mosquitoes."
"You go alone?"
"No. I get Lako, my Indian friend, to travel with me to the Paraguay. It takes about six hours by canoe when the rivers are down. I'll wait for a boat, then catch a ride to Corumba. I'll stay for a few days, do my business, then catch a boat back."
Nate thought of how few boats he'd seen on the Paraguay. "Just any boat?"
"Usually a cattle boat. The captains are good about taking passengers."
She travels by canoe because her old boat wore out. She bums rides on cattle boats to visit Corumba, her only contact with civilization. How would die money change her? Nate asked himself. The question seemed impossible to answer.
He would tell her tomorrow, when the day was fresh, when he was rested and fed and they had hours to deal with the issues. Figures appeared at the edge of the settlement-men walking in their direction.
"Here they are," she said. "We eat just before dark, then we go to sleep."
"I guess there's nothing to do afterward."
"Nothing we can discuss," she said quickly, and it was funny.
Jevy appeared with a group of Indians, one of whom handed Rachel a small square basket. She passed it to Nate, who removed a small loaf of hard bread.
"This is manioc," she said. "It's our main food."
And evidently their only food, at least for that meal. Nate was into his second loaf when they were joined by Indians from the first village. They brought the tent, mosquito net, blankets, and bottled water from the boat.
"We're staying here tonight," Nate said to Jevy.
"Says who?"
"It's the best spot," Rachel said. "I would offer you a place in the village, but the leader must first approve a visit by white men."
"That would be me," Nate said.
"Yes."
"And not him?" He nodded at Jevy.
"He went for food, not to sleep. The rules are complicated."
This struck Nate as funny-primitive natives yet to discover clothing but following a complicated system of rules.
"I would like to leave by noon tomorrow," Nate said to her.
"That too will be up to the leader."
"You mean we can't leave when we want?"
"You will leave when he says you can leave. Don't worry."
"Are you and the chief close?"
"We get along."
She sent the Indians back to the village. The sun had disappeared over the mountains. The shadows from the forest were engulfing them.
For a few minutes, Rachel watched as Jevy and Nate struggled with the tent. It looked quite small rolled up in its case, and expanded just a little as they hooked the poles together. Nate wasn't sure it would hold Jevy, let alone the both of them. Fully erected, it was waist-high, pitched sharply from the sides, and painfully small for two grown men.
"I'm going," she announced. "You will be fine here."
"Promise?" Nate said, with sincerity.
"I can have a couple of boys stand watch if you like."
"We'll be fine," Jevy said.
"What time do you folks wake up around here?" Nate asked.
"An hour before sunrise."
"I'm sure we'll be awake," Nate said, glancing at the tent. "Can we meet early? We have a lot to discuss."
"Yes. I'll send some food out at daybreak. Then we'll chat."
"That would be nice."
"Say your prayers, Mr. O'Riley."
"I will."
She stepped into the darkness and was gone. For a moment, Nate could see her silhouette winding along the trail, then nothing. The village was lost in the blackness of the night.
THEY SAT on the bench for hours, waiting for the air to cool, dreading the moment when they would be forced to pack themselves into the tent and sleep back to back, both smelly and sweaty. There was no choice. The tent, flimsy as it was, would protect them from mosquitoes and other insects. It would also keep out things that crawled.
They talked about the village. Jevy told Indian stories, all of which ended in the death of someone. He finally asked, "Did you tell her about the money?"
"No. I'll do that tomorrow."
"You've seen her now. What will she think about the money?"
"I have no idea. She's happy here. It seems cruel to upset her life."
"Then give me the money. It won't upset my life."
They followed the pecking order. Nate crawled into the tent first. He'd spent the previous night watching the sky from the bottom of the boat, so the fatigue hit fast.
When he was snoring, Jevy slowly unzipped the tent door, and nudged here and there until he had a spot. His pal was unconscious.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ATER NINE HOURS of sleep, the Ipicas arose before dawn to begin their day. The women built small cooking fires outside their huts, then left with the children for the river, to collect water and to bathe. As a rule, they waited until first light to walk the dirt trails. It was prudent to see what lay before them.
In Portuguese, the snake was known as an urutu. The Indians called it a bima. It was common around the waterways of southern Brazil, and often fatal. The girl's name was Ayesh, age seven, helped into the world by the white missionary. Ayesh was walking in front of her mother instead of behind, as was the custom, and she felt the bima squirm under her bare foot.
It struck her below the ankle as she screamed. By the time her father got to her, she was in shock and her right foot had doubled in size. A boy of fifteen, the fastest runner in the tribe, was dispatched to get Rachel.
There were four small Ipica settlements along two rivers that met in a fork very near the spot where Jevy and Nate had stopped. The distance from the fork to the last Ipica hut was no more than five miles. The settlements were distinct and self-contained little tribes, but they were all Ipicas, with the same language, heritage, and customs. They socialized and intermarried.
Ayesh lived in the third settlement from the fork. Rachel was in the second, the largest. The runner found her as she was reading scriptures in the small hut where she'd lived for eleven years. She quickly checked her supplies and filled her small medical bag.
There were four poisonous snakes in their part of the Pantanal, and at various times Rachel had had the anti-venom for each. But not this time. The runner told her the snake was a bima. Its antivenin was manufactured by a Brazilian company, but she had been unable to find it during her last trip to Corumba. The pharmacies there had less than half the medicines she needed.
She laced her leather boots and left with her bag. Lako and two other boys from her village joined her as she jogged away, through the tall weeds and into the woods.