I press on. The first true landmark I encounter is a large gray boulder approximately twice my height. It is climbable, and I climb it swiftly. From an elevated position I can see my cave. I have traveled approximately half a kilometer, by my estimate. My path is invisible through the shrubs. This is not at all surprising. We will have to do better.
The boulder places me in an elevated position, from which I am able to observe in all directions. This is a marked improvement over the cave’s perspective. I confirm quickly that the cave was itself part of a much larger rock formation, though not by any means a mountain. The greenery extends much the same in all directions for what I must estimate is at least 10 km.
It’s difficult to see to the horizon with any detail. The humidity and intense light paint the distance in a haze. While I can see little, it is still sufficient to help me find my bearings. I glance down at the vanished path from my cave. We will have to do better than stumbling about.
Beyond my cave the greenery extends for several more kilometers. The green thereafter seems to taper off, which suggests that the ground becomes more rocky. Beyond the heat haze I believe I see some suggestion of incline. I wonder if there is a mountain beyond the haze. In any event, that is upland.
In the other three directions I see only greenery, though to the path opposite the cave the haze seems closer somehow. This confuses me for a moment. Then it occurs to me that this is likely because of a decline. Triangular shapes in the mist suggest the tops of coniferous trees as well. Knowing nothing of their height, the decline could be a steep one, down into a valley full of trees. It could easily be that the trees are shorter, new growth or stunted, and the decline is shallow.
Before stepping down from the boulder, I have one more task to perform.
The sun hangs between the horizon and the top of the sky. There are two options: mid-morning or mid-afternoon. This tells me nothing of the time of day, the season, or my location. It can, however, tell me east and west.
I take a stiff frond from a nearby fern and strip it to the stem. With smaller stones and muck, I place the branch perpendicular to the flat surface of the boulder. A line is cast clearly. I mark this line with small stones, and with a larger stone in place of the stem. If the sun sets before crossing the sky, then this direction is nearer to east. If not, it is west. The simplest of mathematics can tell me where to lay the stones for sunset.