ABSTRACT
When I awoke, Carl was going through his gear and getting ready to leave. I stumbled along after the tramp in the cold, wet predawn, but when we arrived at the jungle I did my minimal part of the morning's rituals. As had been the case in the days before I was not much interested in the fire until it had been built; not much interested in coffee until it was swirling around in the can, and willing to eat my beans cold. This morning, however, the tramp was unusually cheerful and tolerant—clean up and shave, stop grouching! We’re here, the apples are ripe, and, dammit, there's a job waiting!
