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was deafening, and there was no chance of anyone’s hearing me.

On my way back to the pack I noticed a few yellow fruits lying on the shore and stopped to pick them up. Most of them were rotten, but I found one hard, fresh fruit and took a bite. It was delicious. I looked up and spotted the source: a tree laden with wild yellow plums at the edge of the stone wall.

Someone really is looking out for me, I thought.

I looked for a way up to the tree and found a slight hollow in the rock face where the rainwater ran off the mountain and down to the river. It was wet and slippery, but the incline was not so steep there. I had almost reached the tree – just a few more steps – when I saw a snake. It was green and coiled and just a few inches from my foot. I recognised it immediately as the deadly lora. Karl had told me they could blind their victims by spraying venom even from a distance.

I froze in my place. The snake, too, was motionless. Only its tongue flicked in and out of its mouth. It held the upper half of its body erect. I was afraid to move a muscle, but my fear and desperation soon turned to hatred. I took a step backward, picked up a huge rock, and flung it at the snake. Its body convulsed and then thickened, as if tied in knots. I picked up a flat, narrow rock, bent over, and started hitting the snake in a rage, over and over, until I’d sliced its head from its