“He would have liked to come, but he hurt his ankle and couldn't travel.”

“Too bad. It would be nice to see him. Well, it's been a long time since I had company, but that's no excuse for being a poor host. Please come ashore. You must be very hot and thirsty.”

Paul and Gamay exchanged glances that said, Okay, but be careful, and stepped off the boat. Gamay slung the bag with the gun in it over her shoulder, and they started toward the cluster of huts arranged in a semicircle at the top of a rise. Dieter yelled in another language, and each hut disgorged a load of Indian men, women, and children. They came out timidly and stood at silent attention. Dieter gave another command, and they began to go about their tasks. Paul and Gamay glanced at each other again. Dieter did not suggest in this village; he commanded.

An Indian woman in her twenties came out of the largest hut, her head bowed. Unlike the other women, who were dressed only in loincloths, she had a red sarong of machine-loomed fabric wrapped around her shapely body. Dieter growled an order, and she disappeared into the hut.

A thatched roof stood in front of the hut on four poles. The roof shaded a rough-cut wooden table and stools carved from stumps. Dieter gestured toward the stools, sat in one himself, and removed his straw hat. He mopped his sweating head with his handkerchief and snapped an order at the open door of the hut.

The woman came out carrying a tray with three mugs made from sections of hollowed tree limbs. She set the mugs down and stood respectfully a few paces away with her head still lowered.

Dieter raised his mug. “Here's to meeting new friends.” There was a distinct clinking as he swished the contents of his mug. “That's right,” he said. “You are hearing the beautiful sound of ice cubes. You can thank the wonders of modern science for allowing me to have a portable gas-powered ice maker. There is no need to live like these brown-skinned Adams and Eves.” He slurped half his glass down in a single gulp.

Paul and Gamay took tentative sips and found the drinks cool, refreshing, and strong. Gamay looked around the settlement. “Dr. Ramirez said that you're a trader. What sort of goods do you trade?”

“I realize that to an outsider this must look like a poor place, but these simple people are capable of artistic work that is quite sophisticated. I give them my services as a middleman in marketing their crafts to gift shops and the like.”

From the impoverished appearance of the village the middle man must take the lion's share of the money, Gamay guessed. She made a show of looking around. “We also understand that you are married. Is your wife away?”

Paul hid his smile behind the mug. Gamay was very much aware that the native woman was Dieter's wife and she didn't like the way the Dutchman treated her.