Spring 1971 – A Portrait of the Master as Dictated to a Loyal Slave


The jungle was quiet. It was not the quiet of a landscape when a hunter is prowling. It was the easy quiet of an environment at rest during the heat of midday. Activity had not ceased, merely slowed down. The occasion bird’s squawk or monkey’s cry seemed half hearted, almost embarrassed. I kept walking. If Sister Maria’s directions were accurate I would arrive at the Blue Castle very close to sundown. I wanted to be sure that I did, indeed, reach my destination before nightfall. I was not interested in sleeping rough tonight. 

I was prepared to do so if necessary. There was a chance that Luis Ottovera would not listen to me and I would need to hunt his brother without his assistance or blessing. It was possible that he would attempt to stop me. Then I might get no sleep at all.