Tataco grimaces and braces for impact as his canoe hurtles towards the banks of Brazil’s Jordan River into a blizzard of branches, vines and leaves. In the bow of the boat, his Indigenous comrade, Damë Matis, shields his face with his arms as he is swallowed by the vegetation, twigs gouging his muscular shoulders.
“Get down! Get down!” Tataco yells, battling to control the vessel before its occupants are skewered by the lance-like boughs jutting out from the shore.
