In his travels he comes to a bridge made entirely of bones. br Before crossing he writes a letter to his mother: Dear mother, br guess what? the ape accidentally bit off one of his hands while br eating a banana. Just now I am at the foot of a bone bridge. I br shall be crossing it shortly. I don't know if I shall find hills and br valleys made of flesh on the other side, or simply constant br night, villages of sleep. The ape is scolding me for not teaching br him better. I am letting him wear my pith helmet for br consolation. The bridge looks like one of those skeletal br reconstructions of a huge dinosaur one sees in a museum. The br ape is looking at the stump of his wrist and scolding me again. br I offer him another banana and he gets very furious, as though br I'd insulted him. Tomorrow we cross the bridge. I'll write to br you from the other side if I can; if not, look for a sign . . .