The death toll from the cyclone jumped to more than 28,000, and British Foreign Secretary David Miliband warned that "malign neglect" by the isolated nation's military rulers was creating a "humanitarian catastrophe of genuinely epic proportions."

The junta has been sharply criticized for its handling of the May 3 disaster.

Though international assistance has started trickling in, the few foreign relief workers who have been allowed entry into Myanmar have been restricted to the largest city, Yangon.

The U.N. World Food Program said that only one visa had been approved out of 16 it had requested. The aid group World Vision said it had requested 20 visas and received two.

But in what was seen as a huge concession by the junta, the United States finally got the go-ahead to send a C-130 cargo plane packed with supplies to Yangon today, with two more air shipments scheduled to land tomorrow.

Highlighting the many challenges, however, a Red Cross boat carrying rice, drinking water and other goods for more than 1,000 people sank yesterday near the hard-hit town of Bogalay. All four aid workers on board were safe.

The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies said it did not know how much of the cargo had been lost, but it said the food supplies had been contaminated by river water.

Other aid was increasingly getting through, the group said, but on "nowhere near the scale required."

A spokesman for the World Food Program, Paul Risley, said the aid amounted to about one-tenth of what was needed.

The World Food Program said that authorities had released 38 tons of high-energy biscuits confiscated Friday and that 4.4 tons of biscuits had been delivered yesterday.

Heavy showers were forecast for the coming week, complicating delivery of aid that is still barely reaching victims in the Irrawaddy delta, which was pounded by 120-m.p.h. winds and 12-foot-high storm surges from the sea.

In hard-hit Laputta, hundreds of survivors crowded the floor of a monastery's open-air hall amid the sound of hungry children wailing. Many people tried to sleep sitting up because of lack of space.

Pain Na Kon, a nearby village of 300, was obliterated. The 12 known survivors huddled in a tent set up in a rice field, sharing a small portion of biscuits and watery soup handed out at a local monastery.

"We don't know when they will also run out of food," said U Nyo, casting glances at his 6-year-old niece, Mien Mien, who lost her parents in the cyclone and sat outside in the dark.

U Nyo called out to her gently, but Mien Mien stared into the darkness. Overcome, U Nyo walked, teary-eyed, to the girl and sat beside her.

His wife, Saw San Myant, described in a hushed voice what had happened to Mien Mien's father.

"We hung together on a coconut tree as the tide continued to rise. Her father was separated. He tried to hang onto a pole of the hut, but that was broken. The wind was too strong. She saw her father swept away by the water, but we didn't see anyone else. We think they are all dead," she said.

Many survivors have been without help for more than a week after fleeing their inundated villages to take shelter in monasteries and schools in towns. The canals and flooded roads to higher ground were littered with bloated bodies. The stench was everywhere.

"The first few we saw, we were all very shocked," said U Pinyatale, a monk living near the Pyapon River, where dozens of corpses floated in the brackish water. "After a while, there were just too many."