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The Serpent and the RainBow-The Jaguar - 2

The first days were among the worst, for we had to traverse the vast swamps east of Rio Atrato, and with the river in flood this meant walking for kilometers at a time in water to our chests . Once across the Atrato, however, conditions improved, and without much difficulty we moved from one Choco or Kuna Indian village to the next, soliciting new guides and obtaining provisions as we went along. Our serious problems began when we reached the small town of Yavisa, a miserable hovel that masqueraded as the capital of Darien Province, but is in fact nothing more than a catch basin for all the misfits exiled from each of the flanking nations.

In those days the Guardia Civil of Pan ama had explict instructions to harass foreigners, and we were the only gringos the Yavisa post was likely to see for some time. We came expected. Already at a border post two days west of the frontier an unctuous guard had stolen our only compass; now at the head quarters we were accused of smuggling marijuana, an accusation which, however absurd, gave them the excuse to confiscate our gear. 

We had been walking for two weeks and had hoped to rest in Yavisa for a few days, but our plan changed with a warning we received that afternoon. After leaving the guardhouse I paddled upriver to an Australian mission post we had heard of, hoping to borrow a compass and perhaps some charts, for the next section of forest was uninhabited. One of the missionaries met me at the dock and acted as if he knew me well. The, soberly, he explained that according to some of the Kuna at the mission, agents of the commandant in tended to intercept our party in the forest and kill us for our money.

The missionary, who had lived in the region for some years, took the rumor seriously and urged us to leave as soon as possible. I returned immediately to the jail, discreetly retrieved a few critical items, and then, abondoning the rest of our gear, told the commandant that we had decided to spend a few days at the mission before continuing upriver. Instead, equipped with two rifles borrowed from the mission, and accompanied by three Kuna guides, we left Yavisa the next day before dawn, downriver.

Our problems began immediately. On the chance that we were being followed, the Kuna led us first up a stone creek bed and then, entering the forest, they deliberately described the most circuitous route possible. Sebastian stumbled, badly twisting an ankle. That first night out we discovered what it meant to sleep on the forest floor at the height of the rainy season. In a vain attempt to keep warm, the three Kuna and I huddled together, taking turns in the middle, Nobody slept. By the end of the second day I had begun to suspect that our riverine Kuna were less familiar with the forest hinterland, and after three days I realized that they were completely disoriented.