📸 Photo

'I'm sure that things between us are just the same,' I said, even though I knew he was right.

As we walked along that day, the Asriamas became narrower and narrower. By the time we approached some hilly terrain, it was little more than a stream. It was a hot, sunny day. Thousands of brightly coloured butterflies — yellow, orange, blue, green, purple — rested on the sand or hovered above it, their wings fluttering. At Kevin's request Karl strode directly into their midst, while Kevin snapped pictures of each step that he took. The butterflies took flight, and Karl was engulfed in a cloud of colours. It was a stunningly beautiful sight. Marcus discovered a single butterfly warming itself on a rock. Kevin bent over quietly and took a close-up. Its wings were transparent with yellow stripes.

Karl stooped over as he walked, his eyes glued to the ground. I thought he was looking for butterflies, but he said, 'Look, tapir tracks, a mother and a calf. That explains the butterflies. The cow and calf must have come down to drink from the stream. Then they peed in the sand. The butterflies go after the minerals in urine.'

Pointing out what he thought our approximate location to be on our poor excuse for a map, Karl decided to turn away from the stream and cross the mountain chain. 'The Cocus River is on the other side,' he explained. 'Once we're over the first ridge, any trickle of water that we stumble across