Kevin turned the canoe toward the opening and throttled back even more. The boat slowed. About thirty feet away, Kevin put the motor into neutral and then turned it off.

As the sound of the engine died off, they were thrust into a heavy stillness.

“God, my ears are ringing,” Melanie complained.

“Does it look like a channel?” Kevin asked Candace, who’d again gone up to the bow.

“It’s hard to tell,” Candace said.

Kevin grabbed the back of the motor and tilted it up out of the water. He didn’t want to foul the propeller in underwater vegetation.

The pirogue entered among the reeds. It scraped against the stems, then glided to a halt. Kevin reached behind the boat to keep the towed canoe from banging into the pirogue’s stern.

“It looks like it goes forward in a meandering fashion,” Candace said. She was standing on the gunwale and holding onto the thatched roof of the shelter so she could see over the top of the reeds.

Kevin snapped off a stem and broke it into small pieces. He tossed them into the water next to the boat and watched them. They drifted slowly but inexorably in the direction they were pointing.

“There seems to be some current,” Kevin said. “I think that’s a good sign. Let’s give it a try with the canoe.” Kevin moved the smaller boat alongside the larger.

With difficulty because of the canoe’s unsteadiness, they managed to get themselves into the smaller boat along with their gear and the food chest. Kevin sat in the stern while Candace took the bow. Melanie sat in the middle but not on one of the seats. Canoes made her nervous; she preferred to sit on the bottom.

By a combination of paddling, pulling on reeds, and pulling on the pirogue, they managed to get ahead of the larger boat. Once in what they hoped was the channel, the going was considerably easier.

With Kevin paddling in the rear and Candace in the front they were able to move at the pace of a slow walk. The narrow six-foot-wide passage twisted and turned as it worked its way across the marsh. The sun was now evidencing its equatorial power even though it was only eight o’clock in the morning. The reeds blocked the breeze, effectively raising the temperature even higher.

“There’re not many trails on this island,” Melanie commented. She’d unfolded the contour map and was studying it.

“The main one is from the staging area to Lago Hippo,” Kevin said.

“There are a few more,” Melanie said. “All leading away from Lago Hippo. I suppose they’d been made to facilitate retrievals.”

“That would be my guess,” Kevin said.

Kevin looked into the dark water. He could see strands of plant life trailing in the direction they were paddling, suggesting there was current. He was encouraged.

“Why don’t you try the locator?” Kevin said. “See if bonobo number sixty has moved since we last checked.”

Melanie entered the information and clicked.