We knew that being trapped atop the colossal statue, while sustainable for a moment, could not last a lifetime. As we frantically plotted a course of action, we were blindsided by the sheer swiftness of the venomous snakes' arrival, particularly the one whose maw dripped red saliva with every breath. It trailed a ten-pace cloud of poison both before and behind it; forget being bitten—even drawing near was a likely death sentence. Our only recourse was to evade their immediate onslaught and scramble quickly onto the half-exposed head of the giant.

I yanked Shirley Yang’s arm, urging her to run, but she remained fixated on the markings etched into the wall, claiming they were a virulent curse cast upon "Eluohai City" by countless martyrs. I told Shirley Yang there was no time for ancient graffiti; a moment’s hesitation meant a fatal bite. Any discussion could wait until we were safely above.

Seizing the brief opportunity while the black snakes jostled and squeezed to enter, I followed the Fatty and the others to the uppermost level. The biting, cold wind met my face; there was truly nowhere left to flee. Because the statue was half-destroyed, this area was essentially an exposed cross-section. The remnants of the cavern walls were uneven, and there were no suitable flagstones nearby to barricade the serpent horde. Fatty braced every sinew and muscle, straining with the strength of a newborn to shove a heavy block of stone—dislodged from the wall—toward the opening we’d just ascended.

Just as the stone was about to seal the entrance, two black snakes shot upward like arrows loosed from a bow. Their hard black scales sliced the air, emitting two low, sharp whooshes. These snakes were short, thick, immensely powerful, and used their coiled strength to spring several meters in the air. Their assault was utterly fierce; in the brief flash of the tactical light, the venomous reptiles were already upon us.

Because the statue’s summit was narrow, the five of us were spread out. I feared that firing my gun would injure one of our own. Moreover, if we failed to kill both venomous snakes instantly and utterly, giving these freakish, swift creatures an opening would guarantee casualties among us. In desperation, I grabbed a nearby discarded pack as a shield, holding it before me. Both black snakes struck the backpack simultaneously. Before they could release their grip and drop, I hurled the pack from the height. It plummeted into the darkness, the two snakes dangling from it, and only after a long interval did the sound of their impact echo up the cliff face.

By then, Fatty had managed to push the stone block completely over the entrance. Seeing me toss the pack away, he stomped his foot in frustration. "Old Hu, your stupid bag was empty, why didn't you throw that one? You had to throw mine! Now look, everything is gone—the remaining Spirit Turtle shells, the emergency medicine, the oxygen tank, the gas mask, and even half a fish we hadn't finished! It's all over… Still, if we ever manage to get back down there, maybe we can salvage something." He then urged me to help him pile every movable stone near the entrance, hoping to buy even a few more minutes. Thinking of those savage venomous snakes made my legs weak; of all the threats we had faced, these black serpents, capable of instant death, were the worst.

Though the immediate advance of the snakes was momentarily halted, our situation had not improved. Perched in such a terrifyingly high and precarious place, even the most courageous heart could not suppress fear. Fatty only dared to stare at the ground beneath his feet, refusing to look down. Shirley Yang gazed blankly at the fractured wall beside her. Ah Xiang had woken from her stupor and tightly shut her eyes, uncertain if she feared heights or merely the sight of the giant statue brimming with the resentment of martyrs. Uncle Ming looked ashen, kneeling on the ground with his eyes closed, ceaselessly chanting, "Merciful Guanyin Bodhisattva, the Great Compassionate Savior..."

After a period of introspection, Shirley Yang walked over and told me that on many stone walls below, she had discovered symbols of two cracked eyeballs. The people of the Demon Kingdom worshipped eyes; even their totem of the "bleeding eye" represented a form of martyrdom where the soul was released through blood. They would never depict a cracked eyeball, which signified utter destruction and the collapse of power. Looking at this, she speculated that perhaps, like in other theocratic regimes worldwide, in their final throes, the populace living under divine rule began to doubt their faith, feeling these death rituals were utterly meaningless. Yet, religion still held absolute sway, leaving the individual will tragic and helpless. Pushed toward the brink, they secretly etched marks of their curses before death. Since the carvings were black, they went unnoticed, and as time passed, more people etched these curses before expiring. "Eluohai City" beneath "Wind-Eroded Lake" was clearly destroyed in a massive land subsidence, yet these cracked-eye markings were carved extensively inside the statues of the "Great Black Sky Thunder Mountain," which controlled the power of various ores? Was this mere coincidence, or had the curse truly materialized? This ancient theocratic kingdom, born from the worship of eyes, perhaps met its end because of eyes.

I asked if that was what she was thinking about just now. Sometimes I couldn't tell if you were brilliant or foolish. We might only have ten minutes left to live—what good did contemplating these things do? Even if it wasn't the curse, the theocracy of Eluohai City surely brought about its own demise through injustice. They had ruled the northern Tibet region for years, and their blight continues to this day. It's hardly surprising that the ancient city was destroyed by natural disaster or human folly. However, I secretly wished for an earthquake right now, so we could take those venomous snakes down with us in mutual annihilation.

Shirley Yang turned to me and said, "You’re quite philosophical. Then let me ask you: since none of us has long to live, is there anything you want to say to me?"

I glanced at the other three, suddenly finding them cumbersome. I could only say to Shirley Yang, "What is there to say in a situation like this? My biggest regret is that my will wasn't strong enough to resist the lure of US dollars and beautiful women, which led you to be 'pacified.' It wouldn't have mattered much otherwise; after returning from Shaanxi, I had already decided to quit the grave-robbing trade. In the future, I could perhaps mingle with the American people, study finance and stocks, and strive to become a Wall Street titan, associating with oil magnates, Mafia godfathers, and even Mickey Mouse..."

Shirley Yang interjected, "You’re getting off track. Perhaps it’s just habit. Let me tell you more about Eluohai City." She suddenly lowered her voice and whispered, "Most of the eye totems in Eluohai City are single, but the cracked eyes on the walls are paired. I have a strong intuition that 'cracked' refers to the Great Black Sky Thunder Mountain, and the two eyes signify two major disasters that befell Eluohai City. There were indeed major catastrophes here, but whether they happened once or twice in this space, I can't be sure."

Shirley Yang didn't seem worried that we would die here. Her acute intuition suggested some strange change was occurring in the air; perhaps there was a turning point. Ah Xiang's eyes were a key element. Ever since her eyes discovered the hidden resentment within the statue... or rather, it was her eyes that awakened the statue's tragic memories. From that moment, the atmosphere grew increasingly peculiar. Maybe the second catastrophe was imminent, and our survival hinged on seizing that very moment.

I knew Shirley Yang's lineage was unusual; she seemed to possess an innate, subtle sense of what was about to happen. If she believed we still had a chance to live, I found a flicker of hope myself. I am not one to give up easily. I stood up and carefully re-examined the terrain. After studying it, my heart turned cold. No matter how skilled one was, without sprouting wings, escape was absolutely impossible. We had just escaped the nightmarish curse of the Ghost Cave, only to flee the tiger's den and run straight into the dragon's turbulent waters. Why was our fate so cruel? Why couldn't we have one instance of "the carp shaking off the golden hook, tossing its head and tail, and never returning"? The statue beneath our feet tilted slightly toward the direction of the "Thunder Mountain." The remaining half-head leaned against the steep cliff face, and the two arms, reaching forward from the armpits, were embedded in the mountain structure. The angle between the statue and the sheer wall was very small. Now that we were on the highest level, the ground itself was slanted. I couldn't tell if the statue was designed this way or if it was a structural oversight causing the tilt.

I lost the inclination to puzzle over these details. I looked at the others; all of them appeared listless. I thought we were surely done for this time, but even in defeat, one must maintain dignity. I spoke to the group, "Comrades, it is regrettable that we will not see the day of victory. But man proposes, God disposes. If we are destined to drown, we won't die by fire. We have all done our utmost, but in the end, we lacked that sliver of luck. I say, let us accept this end. For my part, I state now: when the snakes climb up, I will jump straight down from here without hesitation. I would rather be smashed to pieces by the fall than allow those snakes to bite me. So, none of you stop me when the time comes."

Fatty feared death by falling from a great height more than anything, but he certainly couldn't voice that directly. Hearing my intention to jump from dozens of meters up, he naturally scoffed. "Commander Hu, when it comes to staying calm in a crisis, you still fall a bit short of me. You’re spooked before the snakes even get here. Do you think jumping is heroic? That’s just the bravery of a brute. Why can’t you grasp this? If you turn into a pancake when you fall, do you think the snakes will spare you? They’ll still chew on your corpse, won't they? In the end, you get bitten either way, so why pretend to be brave and jump? I say we just sit tight here, offer up this stinking hide, and let whatever snake wants to bite us, bite. That's how we show we are principled, stylish tomb robbers..."

Fatty and I exchanged a few words. The other three thought we were indifferent to the inevitable demise, but only we knew this was a performance masking sheer terror. I felt the collective despair growing palpable. Then, Uncle Ming suddenly cried out, "This is bad, the stones are giving way... Master Hu, please think of something quickly!"

Although everyone knew this was coming eventually, our hearts sank. On the shattered slab covering the passage, a large patch of dark red shadow appeared, like foul blood seeping out from within the stone. Among the large congregation of black snakes below, one was significantly thicker than the rest. The venom it spat from its mouth instantly vaporized upon contact with the air, turning into something resembling a poisonous fungus—shaped like a red mushroom—which withered into black-red ash within seconds. It was almost as corrosive as sulfuric acid, and it had managed to eat a large hole through the stone wall.

Fatty said to me, "Commander Hu, if you’re going to jump, now’s the time!" I cursed, wondering how that snake’s venom could be inexhaustible. I told Fatty, "We have to take a few snakes down with us before we die." Saying this, Fatty, Shirley Yang, and I aimed our guns at the breach the snakes were exploiting. We loaded the last few bullets into our chambers. Even if we died, we would first eliminate that leading great snake. There were too many black snakes, and our ammunition was nearly depleted, yet we hadn't had a clear shot until now. This time, we had to kill that creature.

The agitated sound from the snake crowd suddenly quieted. They must have dispersed slightly to clear a path for the breakthrough. Once the stone slab collapsed, they would swarm up like a tide. Our breathing grew heavy as we stared with bloodshot eyes fixed on the entrance. Both man and beast were like taut bowstrings, poised for release. The moment was eerily silent. The cool, sulfur-scented air in the underground canyon seemed to solidify.

The tension didn't just spread through the air; even time seemed to slow down. In this near-stagnant space, a strange series of kaka-ka sounds suddenly erupted. The sound started faintly, then rapidly intensified within seconds. Standing atop the giant statue, we felt the entire world enveloped by this noise. Everyone’s attention shifted from the entrance to the sound. No one knew what was happening, yet the sounds felt strangely familiar.

Our situation was already dire; even if something else happened, how much worse could it possibly get? Ah Xiang, who had been terrified, suddenly spoke, "It’s the mountain... the mountain is moving."

Under the beam of my flashlight, I saw the tiny (shattered stones) on the statue’s head trembling. Due to our tense, stiff bodies, we hadn’t felt any change underfoot. Hearing Ah Xiang’s words, I quickly raised my "Wolf Eye" flashlight and aimed the beam at the sheer cliff face where the statue tilted. Accompanying the noise from within the mountain, countless thin fissures branched out across the crystal veins of the cliff face, growing longer and longer. It looked as if writhing, toothy dragons were tearing themselves free from the mountain body.

Uncle Ming wailed, "It’s over, it’s over... If we had reached the dark area in the north, we might have found water and taken the middle path. But if this mountain collapses, we will... meet the earth and enter the underworld path."

I thought to myself, "Forget it. It seems we’ll die from a landslide instead of the snakes’ mouths. Though we carry the burden of our actions, Heaven has been kind enough; this way of dying is much better than being bitten until our corpses turn black."

The fissures in the mountain widened, immediately followed by bursts of deep thunder that shook our very souls. It seemed the energy accumulated within the crystal veins of the Great Black Sky Thunder Mountain was finally set to erupt all at once.

Shirley Yang quickly corrected everyone. "No... it's not a collapse, it's water! The underground lake is about to flood back in! Everyone find something secure to brace yourselves and hold on tight—do not let go!" The sound of thunder shook the surroundings, nearly drowning out her voice. I only understood what she meant after she repeated herself twice. I immediately grasped the source of the water. Given the terrain here, the underground lake suspended directly above the altar was not far from the giant statue. Perhaps our delay at the altar had been too long; a violent, sustained crystalline tremor caused many crystal layers to shear off—Fatty’s nose was sliced by one of the fallen crystal spikes. The remaining rock strata could no longer withstand the lake's pressure. Although it held for a time, the mountain shell was already cracking. The underground canyon was too low; any underground water that didn't flow east would surge into this area. This would be followed by a terrifying backflow of the underground lake water toward the northwest. The accumulated water would shoot out from the fractured rock crevices like a high-pressure water cannon.

Everyone immediately clung tightly to the broken walls nearby. Uncle Ming huddled next to me and still asked, "If the lake water rushes in, we won't die, right? Water leads to the middle path."

I cursed, "Water, you fool! No matter how much water is in the underground lake, it can't fill this massive canyon. Being washed down by the water is no different than jumping off the statue ourselves."

Amidst the ceaseless booming thunder, the snake horde below finally breached the stone slabs blocking the entrance. Those stones had already decomposed into red mud. One black snake shot airborne, leading the charge through the gap in the rotten stone. Fatty hooked his arm around the broken wall, raised his gun with the other hand, rested the muzzle on his shoulder, and fired single-handedly. As the gun cracked, he shot the snake directly through the fleshy part above its eye.

The dead snake tumbled down. The other black snakes below hesitated, their advance momentarily slowing. I fired two shots from my 911 at the breach on the ground, but each of us only had about ten bullets left. This defense could only last a minute or two at most. The sulfurous smell in the air had also intensified at some point. The tremors from Thunder Mountain must have triggered a chain reaction at the canyon floor; the partially dormant lava zone was stirring again. The venomous snakes feared this smell most of all, yet they continued to crawl forward desperately. Although we shot and killed a few black snakes, the rest advanced relentlessly, swarming onto the remaining half-head of the statue.

Just as we could no longer suppress the snakes surging into the upper level, the thunder from Thunder Mountain abruptly vanished. Yet, the entire mountain and the earth continued to tremble silently. Whether it was a hallucination or not, both my body and the ground were shaking, but there was no sound. The vast, dark underground canyon fell into deathly silence. Even the venomous snakes seemed to sense something momentous approaching and paused their climb. Every living creature, including the five of us, was gripped by a boundless panic.

This brief but seemingly endless silence lasted for several seconds. It was immediately followed by three earth-shattering roars emanating from "Thunder Mountain." Three streams of water shot out from it. Two of the streams erupted near the statue's chest, while the third plunged directly into the underground canyon. This water resembled three silver-white giant dragons, each as thick as the statue's waist, carrying debris from the mountain shell and surging forward amidst a spray of mist.

The black statue was already top-heavy and hollowed out inside despite its immense size. Struck by these torrents, it began to sway violently. Its arms embedded in the mountain gradually tore free from the rock face. Faced with this monumental shift in the world, human strength seemed utterly negligible. We clung desperately to the broken walls, unable to stand firm amidst the violent shaking. I never expected that my journey to Tibet would end in death by water. Once the torrent hit the statue, sending it tumbling into the underground canyon, survival would be impossible. But now, all we could do was try to secure our bodies.

The venomous snakes were also startled by the statue's movement, or perhaps, like us, they were immobilized by the seismic shaking. Self-preservation took over; no one dared to let go of their grip, even if they were being bitten. Someone cried out, "It’s going to fall!"

Indeed, the statue ceased shaking and began to tilt outward toward the opposite side of Thunder Mountain, albeit at an extremely slow pace. I felt my heart lurching with the statue's slow descent, threatening to fall out of my mouth. Suddenly, I realized Ah Xiang was unprepared for the shift in the center of gravity, and she only had one functioning arm. She slid off the edge of the short wall. I couldn't let go, or I too would roll off the fragmented top. But I couldn't reach her with just one hand, so I stretched out my leg to brace her.

Ah Xiang, quick-witted, managed to grab my leg, preventing her from falling headfirst through the opening. At this moment, the statue tilted to an unbelievable angle, yet it suddenly stopped, not continuing its fall, as if snagged on something in the cliff face. I seized this chance to pull Ah Xiang back. Looking down past the statue, my head began to spin violently.

Because the statue wasn't perfectly parallel to the canyon's trend, it had settled slightly off-center, its head resting precisely against the eastern sheer cliff. The cliff face showed numerous exposed fossils of ancient creatures. Under the statue’s immense pressure, shattered fragments tumbled down with a crash. Furthermore, the statue was sustaining the violent impact of the underground water while simultaneously bearing its own weight as it leaned—it was clearly tottering, ready to crash down the cliff face at any second.

The situation was dire, and I felt an intense, suffocating heat that made me sweat profusely. The air grew thick and murky, the surroundings misty and sodden. Then I realized something was wrong—it wasn't mist, but steam. Lava was erupting from the ground, meeting the lake water and boiling the depths below. If anyone fell in, it would be like dropping dumplings into boiling water—cooked in an instant.

Inley Yang raised her hand and pointed. "Look, what is that over there?" I followed her gaze. Despite the thick vapor, the proximity allowed us to faintly discern a white shape stretched between the steep cliffs on either side of the gorge. The canyon was naturally dark, but a faint seepage of magma from cracks in the lower cliff face cast a dim red glow upward, otherwise, nothing would have been visible.

I strained my eyes to see clearly, but the harder I looked, the more indistinct it became—like a white bridge suspended over an abyss. Though improbable, we couldn't afford to hesitate. The heat had driven the snakes into a frenzy; they would soon cover the giant statue's head. Whatever that thing was across the void, we had to cross it first, or soon, even if we weren't bitten to death, we’d be boiled alive in the water.

We clung to the ruined top edge of the wall and approached. It turned out to be the fossilized remains of a massive, long spinal creature, its enormous vertebrae connecting the statue’s head and shoulders to the cliff face. Both ends of the long spine and rib cage were deeply embedded in the rock, while a significant length of the skeleton hung suspended in mid-air.

The immense weight of the statue was causing the rock face to crumble constantly; it was on the verge of collapse. I quickly urged everyone to climb onto the fossilized skeleton, pushing Inley Yang and Uncle Ming onto it first. Ah Xiang was severely wounded; it was impossible for her to climb across the suspended bone structure alone; someone had to carry her. Fatty was afraid of heights, so if he carried her, they both might fall. Thus, I had to carry Ah Xiang, securing her with a carabiner. Once ready, I urged Fatty to move quickly. Fatty glanced back at the emerging venomous snakes and the boiling groundwater below—either death would be agonizing. He steeled himself, gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and scrambled over to the skeletal fossil.

Carrying Ah Xiang, I was the last to cross. The statue could fall at any moment. I looked back and saw the large snake, drooling crimson fluid, pushing the other black snakes beneath it as it climbed onto the upper level. The swarm of snakes hadn't rushed up earlier because they were all trying to escape the rising heat. Finally, this lead snake squeezed through first. Without a second thought, I raised my hand and fired, emptying all five rounds from my pistol. In that chaotic crisis, there was no time to check for hits. I casually tossed the empty gun aside and scrambled onto the stark white, skeletal fossil.

As soon as I was on it, the fossil felt disturbingly unstable. In the rolling wave of heat, it swayed and trembled beneath us, seeming as if a slight shift of weight could cause it to collapse. Five people climbing on simultaneously was definitely too much, but there was no time to spare, nor could we cross one by one. I told Ah Xiang to keep her eyes shut and not look down, yet even I felt dizzy up there. I bit down hard, cleared my mind of everything, and crawled forward desperately.

The giant prehistoric fossil seemed embedded in a horizontal fissure in the mountain. I thought the location looked familiar—it seemed to be where I had spotted those white Guanyin figures below. The thought flashed and vanished. Fatty ahead was moving slowly, and I dared not press him too hard from behind. Yet, the searing hot air and the loose, shaking bones were pushing everyone’s endurance to its absolute limit.

The vapor at this altitude began to thin; perhaps the lake water was almost drained. My mouth was dry, and my mind felt hazy, moving purely on instinct, climbing from one massive vertebra to the next. Suddenly, a burst of gunfire from ahead jolted my dazed mind back to clarity. I looked up and saw Inley Yang firing at clusters of white shapes. It turned out the Di Guanyin had emerged from their holes just as we were about to reach the horizontal fissure, attempting to gnaw at the fossil. Perhaps fearing the snake swarm would follow, the gunfire threw the Di Guanyin into chaos; many fell off the cliff, and the rest vanished.

Inley Yang and Uncle Ming scrambled into the relative safety of a break in the cliff face. Fatty was still some distance away. Blocked behind him, I couldn't speed up. Behind me, there was a tremendous crash—the giant statue had finally fallen, immediately splashing up hot water. The skeletal fossil nearly scattered. I saw Inley Yang across the way frantically signaling to us. I turned back and nearly lost my grip in shock: the large snake, bleeding, had managed to climb onto the spinal fossil during the statue’s collapse. A few black snakes had ascended with it. The large one seemed crazed, biting and flinging any snakes in its path down below, slithering up like a black, twisting vortex.

Inley Yang tried to provide cover fire, but her angle was poor; she couldn't hit it. I had no choice but to shout at Fatty to hurry up, but Fatty was trembling uncontrollably, moving slower than a turtle. Seeing the great snake closing in, I noticed Fatty’s pistol tucked into the holster on his belt. I told him to hold onto the bone tight and, carrying Ah Xiang, I lunged forward, snatching his gun. All the weapons were loaded and ready. I wanted to turn and shoot, but with a person on my back, the slightest movement unbalanced me. Fortunately, I managed to grab Fatty’s belt with one hand, hanging suspended in mid-air with Ah Xiang on my back, while firing with the other. Several shots rang out. The rapidly approaching snake was hit in the belly; its tail, coiled around the bone, released, and it slid into the deep gorge.

The hand I had on Fatty’s belt felt numb and agonizingly tight. I quickly threw the gun away and used both hands to grip the holster strap. Fatty, weighed down by Ah Xiang and me, nearly turned white from the pressure. Suddenly, he mustered a surge of fierce strength, and while dangling us both, he slowly crawled toward the cliff edge. Inley Yang’s timely support from the opposite side helped. I scrambled onto the ledge with Ah Xiang, landing beside Fatty, and we both collapsed onto the ground, panting, completely unable to move. Ah Xiang was already utterly exhausted from the heat.

After a long moment, Fatty rolled over and managed to gasp out, "What kind of fossil is this... it’s damn sturdy."

My entire body felt shattered; every bone ached. It took a long time for me to recover. That was too close; I never thought we would leave the black statue alive. Uncle Ming said, "We escaped the trial by water and fire, but now we’ve entered the trial by earth. This cliff ledge is inaccessible from above or below. We aren’t monkeys; being trapped here is just another way to die."

I shook my head. "No, ever since I saw the Di Guanyin, I thought of a way out. The only problem was we don't have wings to fly here, so I dismissed the idea. But by chance, we met with water and ended up here. There absolutely must be a way back. The Di Guanyin fear the cold and love the heat, and they are expert burrowers; no rock or soil layer can stop them. Moreover, they don't only operate underground; their surface activity is mostly concentrated in geothermally active areas. Their tunnels for moving food are always dug extremely wide; Fatty could easily crawl through one. We can tunnel our way out."

Uncle Ming was overjoyed. Although he had seen several holes earlier, they were a labyrinth of passages. Even with a compass, entering meant getting lost and never finding the way out. Could Brother Hu have found a path through this maze?

Before I could answer, Fatty cut in. "Those tunnels dug by Di Guanyin—where I was sent down to the mountains in my youth, in the deep, remote valleys—there were countless of them. Because their dens are wide, hunting dogs loved digging them out to catch Di Guanyin for a snack. They might have been eaten to extinction these past few years, which is why these holes are dug from the outside in; that’s their habit. Look at the triangular claw marks on the walls; you can judge the tunnel’s direction. Forget about the overall direction; focusing on it will only confuse you."

Since a path to escape was identified, the group wasted no more time and plunged into the maze-like "Guanyin Caves" below. The terrain gradually rose. When hungry, we simply dug out and ate a few Di Guanyin. After perhaps half a day navigating the caves, we finally emerged from the underground labyrinth. Outside, starlight glittered; it was the middle of the night. We found that the altitude wasn't very high; we were in a valley. Distant mountain shadows loomed, and the sound of springs and streams felt profoundly desolate. The steep cliff walls left only a sliver of sky visible between them, as if the underground gorge had been pulled out, but this even narrower, more oppressive terrain felt eerily familiar. Sparse remains of wild animal skeletons lay on the ground. Everyone looked around, trying to determine our bearings. I suddenly realized: this was one of the two sacrificial pits—the other being the bone storage trench. If we kept heading west along this path, we would eventually meet up with Bu Jingying’s yak caravan.