mean – give ourselves away?” he asked.
“O well,” said Donne speaking without conviction, “the bird may return bleeding with a mark upon it. The folk may take it in their heart to start hunting us. We can never outwit them now. Our strength is gone. Three of our best men finished. No ammunition. Nothing remaining. Everything overboard. We can only throw imaginary stones in the air to frighten and alarm ourselves and make imaginary rings in the water….”
“Better we stop and turn back,” said Jennings sombrely.
“Impossible. Where can we land? If we turn back we’re lost. How can we run the rapids in our condition? We do need helpmore than ever to locate a safe ground trail if we succeed in escaping these walls….” he waved his hands at the cliff. “O it’s a hellish business and trial and responsibility I never foresaw. If one of us –” he stared at them with a glassy eye – “gets across he’ll carry the mark of a beast or a bird I tell you. It’s a wounding dream and task….” he began to ramble and rave. “Let’s hope there’ll be someone there to meet us and heal us in the end whatever we are. It’s all that counts….”
“Ah used to feed she with me lip,” daSilva said.
“O shut up,” Cameron cried. “Who cares?”
“Why did you pelt it?” daSilva cried.
“Wait you going on like if is you I pelt. Aw shut up, I hungry.”
“I ask you why you pelt the ring of me flesh….”
“O Christ, shut up,” said Cameron. “I didn’t pelt you. I didn’t see no precious ring. You is bewitched … that’s what….”
DaSilva muttered wildly – “I tell you when you pelt she you pelt me. Is one flesh, me flesh, you flesh, one flesh. She come to save me, to save all of we. You murderer! what else is you but a plain vile murderer? She ain’t no witch….” His face was mad.
“Who say she is a witch …” Cameron began to protest.
DaSilva jumped. Cameron’s hands flashed. For the first time in his life he missed. The truth was he had no footing in the water: he groaned and fell, his face grinning and splashing surprise. The crew were dumb. They bore him up unwittingly. He was dead and his blood ran and encircled their hand.
DaSilva shook like a leaf. The knife and blade fell from his fingers as flesh from bone turning dean and silver in the stream.
“O God,” said Donne in voiceless surprise and horror as at himself. “What have you done daSilva to a brother friend?”
DaSilva did not hear and understand. He too was deaf and dumb. He saw Cameron in the stream and in the sky wheretheir joint flesh had flown and darted above the fantasy of their carnal death. He looked around foolishly, telling himself Cameron had attacked him in some idle and faithless fashion. It all seemed blind and empty now like the air and stream that jostled them.
The Arawak woman pointed and Vigilance, straining his mind from the volcanic precipice where he clung, looked and saw the blue ring of pentecostal fire in God’s eye as it wheeled around him above the dreaming memory and prison of life until it melted where neither wound nor witch stood.
IX
The Arawak woman rolled like a ball on the cliff, clinging to tree and stone and Vigilance was able to follow. The river crept far beneath them, and above them – beyond the wall they were climbing – lay safety and freedom. Vigilance knew that every step he made was a miracle of survival. It was incredible he had escaped after the wreck of the boat and succeeded in climbing so far and high. Millions of years had passed he knew until now he felt bruised and wounded beyond words and his limbs had crawled and still flew. He had slept in a cradle of branches and in a cave overlooking the chasm of time. However strange it was the fact remained he was living after all. The memory of the conventional crew was a dead eccentric belief that still continued to haunt him every now and then whenever he thought he had fallen and died in the primitive