oh, an african king gave it to me, the congo river. where'd you get yours? g meal. i figure i'll make coq au vin, which is a pretty simple way of dealing with a bunch of tough, old, stringy birds in one pot. getting close to killy time. the moment of truth. it's quickly getting dark and i'm very aware of a number of things. how do they usually kill chickens? >> dan: a small knife. >> anthony: a small knife, cut the head off? >> dan: a small knife. >> anthony: our chickens are thin, straggly, and tough. >> dan: ah, he's biting me. >> anthony: in order to make anything, any kind of edible, i'm probably going to have to stew the crap out of them. but first, we gotta kill these things and collect their blood, which if you know anything about chickens, and most of my crew don't, takes time. i'll hold the bucket, you kill the chicken. you want to eat? you gotta kill your own chicken and pluck it, too. time to get killy, killy. but every man has a breaking point. and in retrospect, perhaps, this was ours. >> dan: saw harder. >> anthony: harder, harder, you're almost

of my life, the last thing that stands between us and our flight home is the reason we came, the congo riverbeen held up for days. >> crew member 3: what's up, freddy? >> crew member 3: they're starting the engine. awesome. it just broke down again. yeah. >> crew member 4: we now have one hour of daylight left.