Some of the Indians would prefer to seek sanctuary in the unmapped jungle, but one of the women and two of the kids in our group are running high fevers and need urgent medical care. We all want to stick together, so the decision is made to strike out for civilization.

“It’s a small city, but it has a hospital,” Ernesto tells P.J. and me as we drag our canoes back to the river.

“What about an airport?” I ask.

“Don’t expect jumbo jets, but you can catch a flight to Rio or São Paulo.”

And from there to New York, I think, but I don’t fill in the blank out loud. Let’s take this one step at a time.

“Do you think this small city will have a hotel room with clean sheets and hot breakfasts?” P.J. asks.

“Definitely,” Ernesto assures her with a smile. “I can also promise you a long, hot soak in a big bathtub.”

“Say no more,” P.J. tells him with an answering grin.

Our honest talk the evening before, followed by a sweet sleep with her head on my chest and my arm draped protectively around her, seems to have done wonders for P.J. Her eyes are brighter, her speech is more hopeful, and even her sense of humor is coming back. Give her a pancake breakfast and a soak in a hot tub and she’ll be as good as new.

Soon we’re out on the river again, leading the procession of canoes. P.J. sits in the front and requests a paddle of her own. She wields it like a club, whacking the water as she tries to speed us on our way.

“If you splash you’re doing it wrong,” I tell her, recalling Eko’s kayaking lessons. “Don’t just use your arms. Try to put your legs and back into it.”

On her next stroke P.J. slaps the water harder, splashing both the chief and me.

The Korubo chief glares at her, but his warrior’s scowl melts into a grin, and he splashes her right back. The next thing I know I’m trapped in the middle of a no-holds-barred water fight between a highly skilled Amazon chieftain and a stubborn American girl. It’s hard to say who wins, but I’m the one sitting between them, so I definitely end up the big loser, soaked from head to foot.

People in nearby canoes laugh and shout advice. I spot Mudinho grinning and apparently having the time of his life watching me take an unwanted bath. We’re all feeling relaxed and hopeful, eager to leave this nightmare behind.

For an hour we make fast progress down a wide and gently flowing stretch of river. Then the current picks up, and as we come around a bend I hear a grating roar. The chief stops us and points.