Chapter Four: Moving Upriver
June 4, 2002—7:42 pm
We've just passed the area that many men searching for El Dorado have been reported missing at. The terrain is rough, the jungle dense, and the surroundings dank and mysterious. Our progress upriver has slowed somewhat from yesterday; the river has narrowed and there is no longer very much room to maneuver comfortably side by side—we've taken to moving the boats one in front of the other. It looks like we'll have to abandon water travel soon.
The wildlife, on the other hand, is astounding. Gigantic turtles, caimans, toucans, cockatoos, and even a nasty five-foot eel were spotted this morning. Some of the plants are rather interesting also—I've taken a try at sketching a few in my research notebook, but I'm afraid my pitiful drawings do them no justice. We also saw a flock of beautiful parrots and Leblanc, the fool tried to shoot one, claiming it was because he liked the feathers. Honestly! That man is going to get us all killed one day with his selfishness and arrogance and annoying little flights-of-fancy!
Alex has taken to playing his flute at odd times throughout the day. I must admit, he isn't as horrible as I thought, though he will probably never be as good as Joseph. Boroba, Nadia's little monkey, has seemed to have taken quite a liking to the boy. Even I have to say that as the hours grow longer, it is somewhat of a comfort to hear the sounds of the instrument.
Kate Cold
June 6, 2002—6:30 pm
A man died today—one of the soldiers traveling with us. He was shot through the heart with a foot-long arrow that Santos and the other guides agree came from an Indian blowgun. Amazing accuracy those native have; they pierced his heart cleanly from what was probably 10 feet away. We had a brief ceremony for him and left his body on the bank. We'll come back and retrieve his bones on our way downriver.
There's been high tension for the past few days—it feels like there's something following us. It's probably the superstition of the others onboard, but still, it makes me jumpy just hearing them talk about it.
Other than that, there's not much to report. Leblanc was being his usual moronic self, insisting he take a boat back to Santa Maria de la Lluvia himself and saying, and I quote, "Do you realize the loss to the scientific world it anything happened to Ludovic Leblanc?" Hah! The scientific world would probably cheer at the news. That selfish overgrown bat. Well, I shut him down right quick, let me tell you! I was hired to write an article, and write an article I will do.
Kate Cold