MongaBay: From the speeding boat, the jungle was a single block of green, its shades recycled across the riverbank and reflected on the thick, black water. The steam rolling from the trees was as foamy as the tracks we were leaving. Birds cut the clouds with their multicolored feathers. The forest around us was dense, hot, all humming and watching. The hard light confused our senses. Daniel was silent, scratching his head and reinforcing my suspicion that we were lost. But he is at home in the jungle. He...