towards the source of the steam and soot. Tiptihani watched the action with some apprehension.
‘Cave?’ she said in a frightened voice.
The Soal can only follow one of us,’ I explained. ‘If it’s our boat, well then we’ve still got a chance if we can get to the place where this vapour is coming from. I don’t know about you but the only explanation I can think of is a volcano …’
She confirmed my thoughts.
‘Yes, they won’t come too near an eruption – but what if there’re two of them? Or even more?’
‘We haven’t got a lot of choice have we? If Weyym’s kind to us there won’t be any Soal at all, but I’m afraid my faith hasn’t been all it should be lately.’
Black flecks were settling and sticking to our wet skins. Occasionally it was a hot piece and sharp spots of pain kept me cursing and attentive to my task. Having to beat towindward was a time-consuming activity – but then we had all the time we needed. The Soal were certainly not going to surface in the steam and ash.
We kept up our tacking for about an hour at the end of which I was running with rivulets of grime, and there was still no sign of the source of the activity, though we could hear the explosions and the sizzling of hot rock touching water. It only occurred to me when we were obviously close to the place where the earth was disgorging its viscous bile that we might be in danger. At any moment a heave from the belly of the world might end our lives.
Feeling my way carefully, I lowered the sail and allowed the canoe to drift. We could hear the fall of surf to port now but it was difficult to tell if the noise was a reef or some other natural musician. Whatever it was I had no desire to slam into it at full speed.
Suddenly we were out of the steam cloud and back into bright sunlight. There was still a lot of dust in the air but we had come out to the far side of the island that owned the volcano. It was still spitting and coughing up its igneous coke but the volcano itself was in the centre of the island and its strength was beginning to flag and the ash was not now reaching the shoreline.
There were fires everywhere and at first I thought it might be a completely new island: then I saw patches of green amongst the black and realized that what had once been jungle was now buried beneath layers of new rock. We paddled around the lagoon after skipping over the reef and found a spot on the beach that was protected by an overhanging rock. I ran the canoe onto this spot and we tumbled out to lie on the cinder-flecked sand by a charred stump that not long ago had been a tree. Smouldering, it jutted aggressively from the ground like a master torturer’s favourite toy.
‘Well, we’re here,’ I said. ‘Still alive and kicking.’
I turned to look at the Polynesian woman as she rolled over on her back. A half-dead fruit bat lay amongst the debris not far from her. It was flapping a holed wing in its agony so I climbed to my feet, stepped gingerly over the warm ash and trod on it quickly. Weyym knows how many other poor creatures were suffering a similar fate onthe island – or were already dead.
As I passed by Tiptihani again, she took hold of my ankle and on gaining my attention pointed out to sea. Coming around the corner of the reef, obviously searching for the moving craft that had disappeared from the viewer, was a half visible Soal craft. It dived beneath the waves a second later having seen the canoe and we were left in no doubt as to our position. We stayed where we were because there was nowhere else to run to, and we let the day move rapidly into sunset without moving – one of the most bloody-eyed dusks I have ever witnessed, and soon the only light was that of the torch that flamed from the cone behind us.
Tiptihani moved close to me when the night came and touched me gently. What had aroused her I did not know – it could have been any number of things from a desire to leave the world sating her carnal
‘Cave?’ she said in a frightened voice.
The Soal can only follow one of us,’ I explained. ‘If it’s our boat, well then we’ve still got a chance if we can get to the place where this vapour is coming from. I don’t know about you but the only explanation I can think of is a volcano …’
She confirmed my thoughts.
‘Yes, they won’t come too near an eruption – but what if there’re two of them? Or even more?’
‘We haven’t got a lot of choice have we? If Weyym’s kind to us there won’t be any Soal at all, but I’m afraid my faith hasn’t been all it should be lately.’
Black flecks were settling and sticking to our wet skins. Occasionally it was a hot piece and sharp spots of pain kept me cursing and attentive to my task. Having to beat towindward was a time-consuming activity – but then we had all the time we needed. The Soal were certainly not going to surface in the steam and ash.
We kept up our tacking for about an hour at the end of which I was running with rivulets of grime, and there was still no sign of the source of the activity, though we could hear the explosions and the sizzling of hot rock touching water. It only occurred to me when we were obviously close to the place where the earth was disgorging its viscous bile that we might be in danger. At any moment a heave from the belly of the world might end our lives.
Feeling my way carefully, I lowered the sail and allowed the canoe to drift. We could hear the fall of surf to port now but it was difficult to tell if the noise was a reef or some other natural musician. Whatever it was I had no desire to slam into it at full speed.
Suddenly we were out of the steam cloud and back into bright sunlight. There was still a lot of dust in the air but we had come out to the far side of the island that owned the volcano. It was still spitting and coughing up its igneous coke but the volcano itself was in the centre of the island and its strength was beginning to flag and the ash was not now reaching the shoreline.
There were fires everywhere and at first I thought it might be a completely new island: then I saw patches of green amongst the black and realized that what had once been jungle was now buried beneath layers of new rock. We paddled around the lagoon after skipping over the reef and found a spot on the beach that was protected by an overhanging rock. I ran the canoe onto this spot and we tumbled out to lie on the cinder-flecked sand by a charred stump that not long ago had been a tree. Smouldering, it jutted aggressively from the ground like a master torturer’s favourite toy.
‘Well, we’re here,’ I said. ‘Still alive and kicking.’
I turned to look at the Polynesian woman as she rolled over on her back. A half-dead fruit bat lay amongst the debris not far from her. It was flapping a holed wing in its agony so I climbed to my feet, stepped gingerly over the warm ash and trod on it quickly. Weyym knows how many other poor creatures were suffering a similar fate onthe island – or were already dead.
As I passed by Tiptihani again, she took hold of my ankle and on gaining my attention pointed out to sea. Coming around the corner of the reef, obviously searching for the moving craft that had disappeared from the viewer, was a half visible Soal craft. It dived beneath the waves a second later having seen the canoe and we were left in no doubt as to our position. We stayed where we were because there was nowhere else to run to, and we let the day move rapidly into sunset without moving – one of the most bloody-eyed dusks I have ever witnessed, and soon the only light was that of the torch that flamed from the cone behind us.
Tiptihani moved close to me when the night came and touched me gently. What had aroused her I did not know – it could have been any number of things from a desire to leave the world sating her carnal
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