All In by Jerry Yang Page A

away.
    I watched as Lie turned and trotted back down the hill. It wasn’t long before I saw him bounding up the trail once again. I guess he thought we were off on some great adventure, and he wanted to come along.
    My father didn’t yell this time. “Keep going. I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”
    I can still see Lie standing there, that excitement on his face as if to say, Let’s go hunting!
    That was the last time I saw Lie.
    My father stayed quiet for a long time after he rejoined our group. I couldn’t bring myself to ask right then, but I knew what he had been forced to do.
    Even now, after all these years, I miss that dog.
    As we headed deeper into the jungle, we had to walk almost single file. I didn’t remember the trails being so narrow on thehunting trips I’d taken with my father. Then again, we’d never taken the entire village with us before.
    Two men led the way. One carried a torch made out of strips of bamboo tied together. The other used a machete to clear the undergrowth.
    Night fell. I couldn’t see anything except the fire far in front of my family. I stayed in line by holding on to my brother’s shirt. He held on to my mother, who held on to the person in front of her, and so on, all the way up the line to the man with the torch. Children too small to walk rode on their mothers’ backs in slings called hlaab nyas .
    We’d walked a short distance into the dark when I stepped on a rock, cutting my foot. A short while later, I tripped over a stick that cut my other foot. More rocks. More sticks. Blood ran out of both my feet. We came upon a dead tree. I climbed up and over it. I didn’t see the thorns lying on the other side until my feet landed on them. I struggled to pull out the thorns with one hand while holding on to my brother with the other.
    Tree frogs’ croaking echoed through the jungle, louder than I’d ever heard. Off in the distance, monkeys howled. Other animals chimed in. The darkness closed in around me. Fear crept down my spine, while pain radiated up from my feet and through my legs.
    Suddenly, the blackness of the night turned neon green as a swarm of fireflies danced around me. The boy in me wanted to catch as many as I could, but I didn’t dare let go of my brother’s shirt or step out of line. I kept on marching.
    We didn’t stop to rest until about midnight.
    My body wanted to sleep, but I didn’t let myself doze off. Oh, my feet hurt so bad.
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Xao?” my mother said.
    I showed her my bleeding feet.
    She tore off strips from her dress and wrapped them. “This will make them feel better.”
    She was right. My feet felt a little better, until I started walking.
    My father pulled my brother and me aside right before we took off again. “Xay, Xao, when I say it’s time to get going, you must get right in line. Don’t fall behind. It’s too easy to get lost out here in the dark if you fall behind.”
    My father didn’t have to tell me twice. My older brother and I made a pact. We would never leave camp without each other.
    The first rest stop gave me a hint of what to expect during life on the run. My belly ached, and I could hear my brother’s stomach rumbling. All of us were hungry. My father took one of the bamboo thermoses filled with rice, split off a small portion, and handed it to me.
    â€œThank you, Father.” The portion of rice was a fraction of what I usually ate for a meal at home, but I didn’t dare say a word.
    My father had already made it clear that we had to make our food last for the entire journey, and no one knew how long that might be. “Drink lots of water,” he said to my brother and me. “You’ll need it to keep your strength up.” Then he smiled and walked away.
    Looking back, I realize he wanted us to drink enough tomake the hunger pains go away.
    After a short rest, my father said,