The boar had scared the life out of Krena and her daughter and if it hadn't been for the quick action of one of the natives they might have been seriously injured. The charge was fortunately preceded by a noisy grunting and the thrashing of the plants and grass, allowing the alert native to pull Krena to one side while he countered the attack with a deadly slash of his machete.

Chessery held the little girl, rocking and cooing to calm her while Jed was showing inordinate concern to Krena's well being.

"Developing an attachment, Jed?" Sax asked after things had settled.

"Is that a problem?"

"Not to me, but it might be to you."

"I can take care of myself thanks."

"Hey, I'm not criticizing, just observing."

"Sorry, Sax. It's just- I saw her back at the mission and- she just..."

"Been there, pal." His eyes drifted over to Chessery who was still calming the little girl.

The two natives were butchering the boar and packing the cuts into their packs with little notice of the excitement it had caused. Before Jed could get into it any further one of the natives pointed through the bush behind them and through a hole in the canopy they saw the thin string of smoke climbing above the trees.

"Pazzo. Kinda careless of him." Sax said.

"Maybe he doesn't care. They have a bit of an advantage out here."

"Then we should be making tracks before the sun goes. We need to set up a defensive camp somewhere soon." Sax said something and motioned to the native who called to his partner and they dashed on ahead, disappearing almost immediately.

"They'll leave a trail that we can follow and erase as we go. They'll have a spot picked out and readied by the time we have to stop."

"I'll get the women moving." Jed walked back to Krena and through a series of signs, broken phrases of Katopi and a gentle hand on the arm, managed to get her to take her daughter, gather their things to move on.

Chessery hoisted her pack and walked over to Sax. "That was close."

"We have human hunters as well." He showed her the smoke stream in the sky. "We have to get moving."

"I'm sorry about Anson." She touched his arm and he flinched as if burned.

"Yeah, me too." He pointed to the trail and followed her without another word.

* * *

When Pazzo saw the smoke behind them he was livid. He couldn't believe one of his men could be so careless and he chose one to send back and find out what caused it. The man took off at a trot, knowing they wouldn't wait and he would have to track them to wherever they set up the night camp.

The sun must have been dipping in the sky because the jungle floor was getting darker and darker. The man hurried along the trail they'd cut and not until he was very close to the site of the smoke did he slow and proceed more cautiously.

He crawled to the edge of a small clearing and saw the fire with a long fish on a stick roasting over the coals. He looked about but couldn't see anyone and crept closer keeping as silent as the sky above. There was no sound. No warning at all. The noose around his neck jerked tight and he scrambled to his feet while trying to get his fingers under the rope.

He was jerked forward into the tiny campsite and tripped to the ground, coughing and choking. The man leaned over him and loosened the rope, whispering in fluent Katopi words that froze the man where he lay.

Only his eyes moved as he watched the large man move about the site. He had black hair in a braid over his shoulders and the beginning of a black goatee that made the skin of his face seem as pale as the moon. His coat was black as well and hung to his knees where the native could see the holster and the knife scabbard.

He turned his head slightly to keep the man in sight and his eyes grew wide in terror.

Le Clerque was sharpening several short stakes and laying them on the ground beside a crudely assembled cross, made from small logs. The cross was standing beside the fire, in the ground, at about the height of an average man. When he finished the last stake he came back and lifted the stricken native to his feet and led him over to the fire. In the man's language he told him to kneel and then knelt across from him. He positioned the man's hands in the manner of prayer and proceeded to recite religious incantations in Katopi; the native stayed exactly as positioned - terrified.

When the prayers finished, Le Clerque ordered the man to stand up and positioned him in front of the cross, tying his hands and feet to its logs. Next he took the stakes and shoved the ends into the coals of the fire. The native watched bug-eyed.

"What is your name?" Le Clerque asked.

"Azcotta..."

"Azcotta, do you know the story of the Christian God, Jesus?"

The native nodded uncertainly.

"Do you know that he was crucified for the sins of man?" The native began to hyperventilate and his mouth opened in a silent scream as Le Clerque took the first stake from the fire.

"You too have sinned, Azcotta. You have committed murder in the most gross manner and now you must ask forgiveness from our Lord and beg that by repeating his experience on the cross, your sins will be forgiven in heaven."

The native began to swoon and his voice became a choking grunt. The pain of the first stake piercing his hand caused a violent spasm and he shrieked aloud before fainting. After a few minutes he lifted his head and tasted the cool water on his tongue.

He looked at his hand and cried out, the wooden stake was driven through the palm and blood gathered in a dark clot that ran down his arm. The second stake was driven home and Azcotta fainted again.

Le Clerque sat in the dark drinking his tea, which he always had with him and carried in special packets. Across from him Azcotta hung from the cross with stakes through both hands and feet. One was through the side of his neck and two more at an angle through his sides. Blood ran freely down his body and pooled in the dirt at his feet.

A water sack made from plant leaves was mounted over his head and allowed a dribble of water to run onto his head and down his face, keeping him conscious and exposed to Le Clerque's endless religious dialogue.

The boat drifted out into the current and Le Clerque dug in the paddle and began his journey north again. With one last look back at the shore, he signed the cross and promptly forgot the entire episode. Azcotta, delirious and weakening from blood loss, managed to waken enough to feel the dry sensation dragging across his waist and with all of his remaining strength he lifted his head to look straight into the face of a yellow anaconda.