"They will eat you,"said Victor, to Poggi, then un-expectant hope of deliverance from the cannibals in the deep jungles of Atalaya (by Satipo Jungle, in Peru) overwhelmed him but where would it come from?

"What can we do?" said Poggi (almost ready to run now, run where"in this dark deep jungle was a rhetorical question he brought forward to himself; it of course would be the unanswered question; statement-question).

There were perhaps, 200-native cannibals to the tribe, the Ashaninca. Now to be eaten out of his skin and perchance bones, his flesh, by these monsters, just didn't seem right; yet he left his family on a quirk, idiosyncrasy, eccentricity, just up and left, that was it, no advise, or where he was going, just up and left and ended up in the jungle, journeyed to this land for whatever reasons, this hideous land of man eating primates, sinister as it was, it was: why, well, it has its own motivations, as I have said in the first part of this story.

So here he was, in the underworld of the jungle (the deep), the year was 1994, it would be a long year indeed; his nostrils filled with the jungle air; water falls running wild like unending corridors everywhere; sounds of water and birds everywhere. It was if anything, it was a strange new world undeniably.

Eccentric, perhaps he was, not a sin to be so; brave, indeed he was, for who would cherish such a dream; then Victor said, standing in front of the tribal leaders, whispered to Poggi, said in a low, very low voice, with a small bird in his hands [he was holding], "You must kill this bird in front of everyone, lest, you give them time to eat you, should you not."

It was a tiny bird for sure, whistling a tune nonetheless, and a cut bird at that, yet it bestowed fear in the strongest of the natives, it was known to pick, and pluck out the eyeballs of their loved ones. Perhaps love is a strong word here: their comrades.

Poggi looked about, the natives were laughing (he would learn in the next year they laughed all the time, like monkey's, all the time moving, laughing 'ha, ha, ha...' they bellowed it out constantly, with spears in hand, laughed with each other, not sure what they were laughing at, just laughing like lost souls, like idiots; painted up like devils, as he would be in time.

Now they were all looking at Victor and Poggi (Victor had proven himself to be a fearful friend, and was in no danger, as was Poggi).

"Eat the eyeballs out of humans, do they?" asked Poggi, as if to have it clarified (a rhetorical question at best).

'Crack...!' went the bird's neck; Poggi had twisted it, broke its neck, and saved his life at the hands of these cadaverous jungle devils. He looked at the bird, as if it would whistle again, but of course it would not, and he knew that. And all the natives looked at him, he was one of them now. He painted himself likened to their kind, and lived with them for a year.