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lousy goose isn't going to make a meal for the four of us, and the calf will give us enough for tomorrow too.’

None of us objected. Karl took aim at the white calf. I put my hands over my ears, and Marcus squeezed his eyes shut. Kevin watched attentively. The calf’s salvation arrived from different quarters. The bolt stuck, and Karl couldn't get it unjammed. While he was fiddling with the shotgun, the entire herd made a break for it, back to the riverbank.

There is a God in heaven, I thought to myself with relief.

Karl wasn’t upset. ‘So they got away,’ he shrugged. ‘We’ll have plenty of game tomorrow. Look at the fat goose we got today.’

We set up camp quickly. Karl cleaned the goose, put a pot of rice on to boil, and set the goose in it. We sat down to warm ourselves around the fire. We each held a deep bowl and concentrated on the delicious stew.

‘Poor Flaca,’ I said.

‘Stupid, pig-headed dog,’ Karl cursed.

‘Tell us about the Indian village,’ Kevin said, changing the subject.

Karl liked nothing better than to be asked to tell a story.

‘We were panning for gold in Curiplaya,’ he began, ‘the camp we’ll be coming to later on. There were villagers from San José there, and a Swiss friend of mine, Don Matías, who owns a ranch