The fourth day: a difficult ascent

Last night was the most agonizing experience of my life. If I could, I would never wish to recall it again.

No one would have imagined that I spent the night clutching a tree—not sleeping, but rather losing consciousness from exhaustion. When I climbed up the tree yesterday and looked back, I was stunned by what I saw. Beneath me raged a churning river, and my cave was already submerged beneath its waters. The pond where I used to drink had vanished without a trace; all I could see was the tip of the fruit tree that once stood above it.

Yet, in the midst of misfortune, I found a small blessing. The tree itself was not especially thick, but the vine I used to hang my fruit saved my life. I tied myself to the trunk with it. After that, I remember nothing more. I couldn't even tell whether I was asleep or unconscious.

I don't know the name of that tree, but I truly wish I could thank it. The surging floodwaters did not rip it from the earth. It held on—preserving our lives.

Now, I am only about three meters above the ground—not very high, really. But to me last night, it was an abyss, a living hell. The rain had stopped, the raging wind was long gone, and sunlight now warmed my back. Below, the ground had become a babbling stream, stretching beyond sight.

No wonder the mouth of the cave had been covered in moss. I suppose this area was meant to be a stream all along. My carelessness was a fatal mistake; even now, I shudder at the thought. It exposed my utter lack of experience—I must be more cautious in the future.

I untied the vine and carefully slid down, hugging the trunk. The instant my feet touched the stream, I toppled in with a splash. I hadn't realized how numb my legs had grown from poor circulation after so long. I choked on several mouthfuls of water before dragging myself away from the current—once again, narrowly escaping death.

I lay on the ground, gasping for air, my heart pounding in terror. The water I inhaled burned my throat with the taste of mud, and the sensation of foreign matter deep in my nose was agonizing. Once more, I was beset by weakness, pain, and hunger. Every piece of fruit I’d gathered was washed away during the night; not a single one remained.

I prayed as I reached into my pocket. My hand trembled with fear that the lighter might also have been swept away. But it was still there, and my spirits lifted at once. The cigarettes were gone, but if I’d lost the lighter too, I’m not sure I could have borne the blow. Fortunately, it remained, giving me a surge of motivation. Much as I longed to lie down and rest, I would not allow myself—I had to climb the mountain and assess the situation.

The seemingly gentle mountain path proved torturous. Loose stones sent me tumbling time and again. The rain had loosened the earth, and rocks rolled down from the summit, narrowly missing my head on several occasions. But this time, misfortune did not claim me.

By late afternoon, as the sun dipped westward, I used the last of my strength to crawl to the top. Crawl, for in those final hundreds of meters, I could no longer stand; my legs trembled like engines. I gasped for breath, feeling as though I were atop a thin-aired plateau. The sun’s heat was oppressive—my body felt as if all its moisture was evaporating away. Exposed skin stung beneath its merciless rays, and only by dragging myself onward did I finally reach the summit.

No matter what, I had made it. Triumph stirred within me. The mountaintop was barren, not a single tree in sight, only a few shrubs clinging to life. I lay there for what could have been minutes or hours, until I finally forced myself to stand. A flock of birds, startled by my sudden appearance, scattered into the sky.

The mountain’s crown was about the size of a soccer field. The uneven ground made walking difficult, but eventually I reached a giant boulder at the highest point. As I looked out, my suspicions were confirmed: this was an island.

Even though I had been prepared for this possibility, the reality still struck me hard. How I had hoped this was part of the mainland, that I might find a way out! Reality, however, shattered that hope as easily as a hammer crushes glass.

I circled the summit, studying my surroundings. I saw the place where I’d come ashore—a long, narrow stretch of sand, backed by forest. That was the forest I’d traversed, filled with coconut palms and other unfamiliar trees.

On the other side, the scene was much the same, but there I noticed a river winding through the woods and emptying into the sea. The trees elsewhere were too dense to see through; only the distant, emerald expanse of ocean was visible.

As the sun set and painted the sky red, I was jolted back to reality—I needed to find shelter for the night. Never again, I vowed, would I sleep in a cave, and at least now I didn’t have to agonize over whether to climb up or down. I simply didn’t have the strength to descend and would have to spend the night here.

By chance, as soon as I climbed down from the boulder, I found a recess beneath it, about wide enough for two people. It was dry—a perfect shelter for the night, and I was satisfied.

Then luck smiled on me again: I discovered some dried vines. Though they had endured the previous night’s downpour, today’s sunlight had dried them out, or so they felt to the touch. Other branches for firewood were still damp, but I gathered them anyway. With no food, I had to make do by drinking my fill from a puddle—there was no other choice. All I could hope for was to survive until rescue arrived.

At that moment, frustration overwhelmed me. The vines, seemingly dry, were damp within and refused to catch fire. Night had fallen completely, and there was no chance to search for other kindling. In desperation, I tore a strip from my worn trousers—for I was simply too afraid of the darkness. I knew I wouldn’t sleep in the blackness.

Fortunately, the fire answered my prayers and began to burn. I stacked the damp twigs around it, hoping they would catch before the vines burned away. In the end, my gamble paid off—the fire took hold.

With flames flickering before me, my heart finally settled. Lying beneath the rock, I could still see the stars twinkling overhead. Gazing at them, utterly exhausted, I drifted into sleep.