Tuesday, 24 April 2018

Chapter Twenty What We Discovered


Chapter 20
After two weeks of continuous paddling, three small people became even smaller. Relentless physical exertion requires the body to be provided with lots of fat and energy.  Despite Honya's best efforts, the fish we ate were all lean.  The rabbit Yewdis proudly held up one evening was itself skin and bones.  We were used to living like the wild animals, but as when the bear prepares for winter, fat was the only form of food we desperately needed.  One evening, after considerable effort, we also caught ourselves a duck. I contemplated whether the energy taken to catch one small widgeon would actually be repaid by the beast. Later, after plucking, the poor creature looked more like a web-footed sparrow. We laughed, remembering the comic scenes of our hunting endeavours. We had caught the hapless creature by stringing up a fisherfolk fishing net across a sea inlet.  In our kayaks, we corralled a small flock of ducks gently down into the trap.  Then, when they were near the net, we suddenly frightened them into lifting off straight into our net. Success only came at the third attempt. The first time our high pitched squeals incited no fear. They lazily flew out to sea to be rid of that shocking noise.  The second time, after a number of hours waiting for any ducks to reappear at all, the birds took fright, but were too far from the net and all cleared it easily. Finally, instead of the three choice ducks we had hoped we would be eating, we caught only one scrawny sea-sparrow.  The fisherfolk had demonstrated duck-catching techniques many times to great effect.  They were more interested in duck down than any alternative to their fishy diet.  From the ducks came their heavenly taste in feather beds, a tradition I was keen to take back to our cave side existence, if we ever made it.

Late one morning, Yewdis, in his lead position, spied a large town with a coastal harbour.  By his description I was sure that we had arrived.  Jokou was unusual in being sited very close to the sea, and the barn-like communal hall stood unusually high above the town ramparts and wooden walls. The harbour was little more than a beach, and as we drew closer we noticed some strange sights that gave us our first premonition that all was not well in Jokou.  In the harbour a large long ship rested on its side with the waves crashing straight into the deck.  The vast long mast lay prone, pointing out to sea, with the tattered sail, swishing like sea kelp. It was a shock to see such a fine strong vessel breaking up before us. I thought of the hours of labour that had gone into making this fine vessel. Now, with each tide, all was being undone.  Not a person was around.  The shed where some time ago I had first been branded a slave was still there.  The doors were wide open, like a gaol after an earthquake.  Honya and Yewdis detected my horror. They were new in this area, and had no idea of what to expect.  We hauled up our kayaks onto the beach.  Rest could have been our first thought, but curiosity got the better of me. Perhaps a great war had taken place? The headman of Jokou was certain one for a fight. His people would probably be reluctant, but he was a bully, and normally picked on small defenceless communities, like the one I was from. A chill went down my spine when I considered what might have befallen my own people.  We walked together up to the town gates.  There were no sentries today.  I man in official looking attire was sitting on the sentry post with his head in his hands.  I approached him and as he saw me, he pulled away.  Some Jokou words came to mind and I greeted him, but he was up and gone.  We looked at each other mystified, and walked on.  Although this was a surreal experience to say the least, we felt no fear. It felt as if we were entering the corpse of the city, where all previous strength was gone.  The place also stank.  Not just of human waste, but also of the smell of hopelessness and despair. We continued together to the market place.  People walked pass the us like ghosts. Occasionally someone might look up, but it was as if we were of no significance.  In the market place, it looked as if there had been no action for many moons. Fires were burning with huge cooking pots stewed food, their cooks bent over them intently.  Seated in rows against low wooden fences were the bedraggled inhabitance of Jokou.  I looked into the great communal hall, that dark space of evil. In the inner recesses of the building, rows of beds could be seen as far as the could see.  And here and there, larger people stood, tending to the sick.  In the gloom I thought I saw a face I knew, a called out softly, hardly daring to say her name aloud. "Tilda". In less than a second I was in her arms. We were both crying, as Honya and Yewdis look on. After what seemed an age, Tilda released her grip.  She looked at me, and I at her.  "You look so thin", she exclaimed.  "And strong" I added.  I introduced my new brother and sister, slightly bemused because I had suddenly without warning moved back into my native tongue.  Tilda, a skilled linguist, amazed my two with some words in Oshlosh. She was also quite proficient in Honya's family language, which gave me an instant flash of jealousy.  Tilda, my sister, was brilliant at most things. Then Tilda got us something to eat and drink. For the first time in an age I once again tasted the unique taste of our stone cooked bread. It brought tears to my eyes. And we were told how the plague had come and felled the might tree of Jokou. The headman was one of the first to die. And how my people had dedicated themselves to saving as many lives in the city. My people mysteriously appeared to have resistance to the disease, few had been really ill. And our patents? Tilda with a merry smile, clasped me again to herself and whispered, "we are all fine."

The End
Approx. 19,400 words  32 pages

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