I had hardly started to roll myself a cigarette in a leaf lunch than the hacking of bush knives on bamboo stems starts up. It sounded above the sizzle of the rain on the treetops and the roaring of the rapids, forming an odd rhythmic tune only its composer could fully appreciate and understand.
'Even on our way to defeat, we still have to overcome obstacle,' I thought as i puffy clouds of smoke into the air.
It didn't take long to gather the amount of long stems we needed. The strongest man in our group was chosen to walk some distance upstream in order to drift with the current and group was chosen to walk some distance upstream in order to drift back with the current and grab a branch of the nearest treetop in front of us. As we extended the fast bamboo stem from the bank, his duty was to fasten it to one of the branches slightly above water level. The second stem was then held out parallel to the first and again my friend tied it tightly to the branch. Our makeshift bridge was beginning to take shape.
One of us crawled on it and sat astride the stems,helping to put place two more more big bamboo stems so they they reached the next bush further out in the stream. We used the same method to place from one bush to the next, tying them up securely with rope or creepers while some of us waited in the water to grab the stems and coordinate all the work.
We all helped one another and did whatever had to be done as best we could. Boisterous shouts kept responding and sometime those who had to stay in the water for hours on end would complain about the cold. The rain was still falling and the current kept flowing furiously