"The crocodiles don't usually come this far up the river"
Our leader shouted as we paddled upstream full tilt.
"Try to be careful not to put your hands in the water"
"OK" I thought, struggling to get my paddle from the silt.

The Zambezi was always supposed to have been a challenge for us,
But we had only imagined fast flowing water and occasional rocks.
What we had now was the very distinct chance that this was it.
With much relief I looked back and saw we were faster than the crocs.

"If we can keep this pace for another ten minutes we'll be clear"
I could already see the strain telling on many of our party's faces.
"Concentrate on that clearing up there on the left, we'll try and land"
I couldn't bear to see how far it was, I concentrated on my shoelaces.

Our pace slowed a little, but we kept moving and made the bank.
Hauling the boat out of the water was a task almost beyond us.
But the slowly nearing wakes with tails gave strength to weary arms.
We pulled the canoe up a little, grabbed bags and ran back breathless.

"I hadn't expected crocodiles today" panted our guide, quite red.
It was reassuring, none the less, to see he'd packed a gun in case.
He turned round and shot two huge crocodiles, just as they made land.
"Let's rest a while here" he said, "That was quite a thrilling chase".