I see in a flash that there was a reason that the gun emplacements in the clearing were only crudely concealed. The colonel meant for us to see them and concentrate on them. They were a decoy to distract us from the true hidden threat. And now that trap closes around us with deadly precision.

Semiautomatic weapons, howitzers, and rocket launchers rake the river with a lethal hail of lead and metal. Canoes split apart and burst into flame. Proud warriors scream and leap into the river. I spot Eko diving off her canoe, and Gisco dog-paddling for the closest bank, with Mudinho clinging to his back.

But there’s no place to go. The colonel’s men waited to attack till the canoes entered a stretch of river with nearly impenetrable thorn bushes on either bank.

I get the idea of turning one of the machine guns in the gun emplacement on the colonel’s men, so I duck back into a hut. I run to the large gun, which is pointed out at the river, and see that it has no bullets. As always, the colonel is one big step ahead of me.

The narrow window of the hut gives me a perfect vantage point to view the unfolding ambush. The canoes are now empty on the river. Many of them have been shattered or even splintered by bullets. Hundreds of Indians are swimming or wading to shore. They’re screaming as bullets shred them alive. Our rain forest crusade to stop the colonel has utterly failed. In minutes, our war-painted army will be decimated.

Then I realize that the hail of bullets is lessening. And the bullets and rockets that are being fired are wildly missing their targets. Screams still ring out, but they’re coming from the thickets along the shore where the colonel’s men lie concealed.

I see one of the soldiers burst from beneath a bush, ripping off his camouflage outfit, screaming as if he’s on fire. A heartbeat later, a second soldier bolts from hiding, his gun still in his hands. He screams and fires wildly into the ferns at his feet, and then turns his gun on himself and blows his own head off his shoulders.

I peer across the river at the thick foliage on the opposite bank, trying to guess what he was firing at. Are monkeys swinging down from the trees and attacking, or jaguars bounding out of the bush?

I scan the foliage carefully, but I can’t spot any large rain forest predators on the attack. But I do notice that the colonel’s men aren’t alone in giving up their leafy hiding places and fleeing toward the river. The ground itself seems to be moving, driving all manner of wildlife before it.