Kevin looked in the direction she was indicating. Sure enough, the heads and small ears of a dozen of these huge mammals were just visible in the water. Standing on their crowns were a number of white birds preening.

“They’re okay,” Kevin assured Candace. “See how they are slowly moving away from us. They won’t be any trouble.”

“I’ve never been much of a nature lover,” Candace admitted.

“You don’t have to explain,” Kevin said. He could remember clearly his unease about wildlife during his first year in Cogo.

“According to the map, there should be a trail not too far away from the left bank,” Melanie said, while studying the contour map.

“If I remember correctly, there’s a trail that goes around the whole eastern end of the lake,” Kevin said. “It originates at the bridge.”

“That’s true, but it comes closest to our left,” Melanie said.

Kevin angled the canoe toward the left shore and began looking for an opening in the reeds. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one.

“I think we’ll just have to try to paddle right through the vegetation,” Kevin said.

“I’m certainly not getting out of this boat until there’s dry land,” Melanie announced.

Kevin told Candace not to paddle as he aimed the canoe at the six-foot-high wall of reeds and took a number of forceful strokes. To everyone’s surprise, the boat skimmed through the vegetation with no trouble at all, despite the scraping noise of the reeds on the hull. Sooner than they expected, they bumped against dry land.

“That was easy,” Kevin said. He looked behind at the path they’d created to the lake, but already the reeds were springing back to their original position.

“Am I supposed to get out?” Candace said. “I can’t see the ground. What if there are bugs and snakes?”

“Make yourself a clearing with your paddle,” Kevin suggested.

As soon as Candace climbed out of the bow, Kevin paddled against the vegetation and succeeded to force the canoe still further onto the shore. Melanie got out easily.

“What about the food?” Kevin asked as he moved forward.

“Let’s leave it here,” Melanie said. “Just bring the bag with the directional beacon and flashlight. I’ve got the locator and the contour map.”

The women waited for Kevin to get out of the boat, then motioned for him to go ahead of them. With the gear bag over his shoulder, he pushed aside the reeds and began moving inland. The ground was marshy and the muck sucked at his shoes. But within ten feet, he emerged onto the grassy field.

“This looks like a field, but it’s actually a swamp,” Melanie complained as she looked down at her tennis shoes. They were already black with mud and completely soaked.

Kevin struggled with the contour map to get his bearings, then pointed off to the right. “The transmitting chip from bonobo number sixty should be no more than a hundred feet from here in the direction of that cul de sac of trees,” he said.