After breakfast Ricky and I took a canoe and paddled several hundred yards up river. Blake was invited too but he chose to remain behind. One of the things I noticed right away was how much more wildlife there was around while paddling as opposed to when using the noisy motor. It was also nice to get some exercise. We didn't keep paddling for long though.Ricky started the motor when we reached the big bend and we went up a part of the river I've never been to, where the water is still black instead of brown, which actually means its cleaner. Wilder told us it was because the sap from all the trees and decaying organic matter purified the water and also turned it black. The brown water is whats just been washed downstream by the rains and contains all kinds of filth from everywhere in the Amazon.We pulled up beside some camu-camu bushes that were mostly submerged in the river and started picking. When we gathered enough, Ricky asked if it was time to go swimming? I didn't say anything I just jumped in. The water there was colder than our part of the river at camp, it was really nice and refreshing as well.Ricky positioned the boat in the middle of the river, lifted the motor out of the water and jumped in as well. With both of us holding on to the canoe from opposite sides, keeping it centered and clear from shore as we drifted downstream.We talked more about his life, how the terrorists had tried to recruit him after he left the military, threatening his family if he didn't join them, and how he had escaped their custody at the border by playing dumb with the guards. Miraculously his military unit came through the check point and rescued him, convincing the guards he wasn't with the terrorists and beating senseless the officer who had beaten up and tortured Ricky to get him to talk. An amazing tale to be sure but it was hardly the last or most intense of which he shared.As we returned to camp, Wilder arrived in another boat with Caesars son, Christian, who we learned was only 26 years old. He also had an apprentice with him who was 24. In my mind a Shaman should be an old man, full of wisdom and experience. But I suppose they have to start sometime don't they? Christian, we learned, had started drinking ayahuasca at eight years old with his grandfather, and became a shaman when he turned 18. Ten years of study.. Fair enough, I thought, we'll see how it goes.At 8pm, Ricky, Christian, his apprentice, Blake and I all went to the hut and started the ceremony. I felt no affect from the ayahuasca but Christian was full of energy and sang beautifully, calming me down and allowing me to enjoy it none the less.During the night I had a nightmare of a black scorpion crawling in my hands, it turned to face me, curled back it's tail, yellow eyes shimmering and lept at my face. It was very very real, and I woke up in a fright. Checking around the room, realizing the illusion, I feel back asleep warily, hoping the dark creature would not return.