📸 Photo

Once again I felt lost and hopeless. All of my walking had been for nothing. How could the mountain just drop off into nothing? And how would Kevin ever get here? I had no choice but to backtrack to the cave I had seen. There I would light a fire and make some nice rice-and-bean soup.

When I made it back to the cave, I collapsed. I lay there for a while and then, gathering my strength, got to my feet. I gathered dry twigs and branches. I arranged them properly, the smaller ones on the bottom and the larger on top. I had only a few matches, and the lighter had seen better days. Kevin's beloved book was in the pack. I tore out a few pages and shoved them under the twigs. It was easy to get a blaze going. In no time the larger branches caught fire as well. The fire provided both warmth and light.

Water was no problem. The whole cliff face was wet, and water trickled off it. I filled the tin can, set a big stone in the centre of the fire, and put the can on top. The water came quickly to a boil. I was stricken with guilt; Kevin also would need nourishment, and the little food we had was all in my possession. I must use the provisions sparingly, for we might both need them. I carefully measured one spoonful of rice and one spoonful of beans into the boiling water. I peeled two cloves of garlic and added them and some salt and spices.

The tin can held about three quarts of water. The soup wasn't thick, but it was delicious.