Diana only has one pencil left. One pencil and no sharpener. She has to write as lightly as possible, pressing so gently on the paper that the words can only just be deciphered.
She ties her notes to the trees, praying that the rain won't wash them away, that the messages will be discovered intact and in time. With each new note attached, she dashes off again into the jungle, desperate to elude her pursuers.
The notes do not say where she is going. All they say is that she is alive and that she is running out of pencils. That is all she can afford to give away.
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