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Karl apparently noticed that we were all a bit sceptical. ‘You know what? I’ll buy your gold!’ he declared. ‘You only have to pay me three thousand bolivianos now, and you can give me the other half in gold.’

‘And what if we don’t find anything?’ I asked.

‘There isn’t the slightest chance that you won’t find gold,’ Karl answered. ‘I worked there for two years, and I found gold.’

Kevin and Marcus smiled tolerantly, but I had gold fever. I was eager, full of expectations.

‘The raft will be ready within five days,’ Karl said, having gone back to planning our route, ‘and we’ll go down the Tuichi on it, about one hundred and twenty miles, until we come to the mouth of the Beni River.’ He pointed at his map. ‘There, near the mouth, is the town of Rurrenabaque. From there we can get a plane back to La Paz, or if you prefer, we could go on a little farther to the Reyes territory and visit my uncle’s ranch for a few days.’

All three of us gave this plan our enthusiastic endorsement. Karl added a shotgun and ammunition to the list of provisions we would need to buy. His crew wouldn’t be going with us, he explained, so we would need a good shotgun for our own protection and to hunt game. ‘It’s a big expense, but we’ll be able to sell it at a profit at the end of our trip in Rurrenabaque.’

‘But this is a military dictatorship,’ I protested. ‘Won’t it be dangerous shopping for guns?’