Chapter Five
Three dolphins broke the surface at the same time. They leapt free of the water and then re-entered without a splash. Their smooth skins reflected the sun as they effortlessly matched the speed of the boat. Hanna could see their faces as they swam on their sides and made eye contact. Unquestioningly, they followed the travellers out into the open ocean.
He could hear the water slap against the bow of his boat as it sliced through the waves. The wind bellowed the sails giving only a hint of its presence as it ushered them along. Several sea birds hung in the breeze above them, investigating. Satisfied, they would turn and shoot off with the breeze.
The crew all sat and stared back at the mainland from whence they had come. The morning’s preparations had gone well and they had left the village about an hour after sunrise on the offshore breeze. The cliffs of the village coastline slipped away to the northwest, as they sailed south-southeast into open sea.
Nobody spoke, as the realisation that they were actually leaving became a reality. Hanna put his hand on Unow’s shoulder and gently squeezed reassuringly as he could see the wrinkles of concern on his brow. They exchanged smiles and Hanna again looked forward toward their destination. Encouragingly he spoke to his men.
‘Well boys, we’re on our way. Let’s have a song,’ said Hanna.
‘What do you do with a drunken sailor?’
Ray started and they all broke into the song that had become there theme. Soon, they were improvising the verses and then all join in for the chorus. The dolphins leapt high to investigate the ruckus and the men roared encouragement as they shot out of the water.
About six hours later, they saw the peak of land that Hanna had named Mt Inspiration. It slowly rose from the horizon and its steep spire soon dominated the skyline, the rocky pinnacle rose up through the clouds. It came as a great relief to the crew to once again see land.
As they drew nearer they could see two islands that mimicked the mountains shape but on a smaller scale. The smallest was the closest, as the land seemed to stretch out to touch them. They could see that the main land that stretched off to the southwest was lined with cliffs and bays, much the same as the village coastline. The southeast coast disappeared around the other side of the mountain.
Hanna decided they would stay with the north easterly breeze and follow the south eastern coastline to look for a bay that would give them safe harbour. He estimated they had two hours of daylight left. Finally, at dusk, they found a protected bay and that night they slept on a beach and ate from their provisions.
They spent the next day investigating their new surroundings. Hanna and Ray soon discovered that an impenetrable wall of cliffs surrounded the small forest that lay behind the beach. Waterfalls tumbled majestically from the plateau above. Large caves lay hidden behind the largest as it spilled into a fresh water lagoon. Coconuts, mangos and bananas grew abundantly throughout the forest. The day proved to be therapeutic for the crew as they swam with the dolphins and played in the serene setting. The next morning they sailed on the high tide.
They headed south along the rugged coastline and as the day progressed, so did the wind. By early afternoon storm clouds began building around the mountains. Hanna considered trying to make it back to the safe harbour of the night before but suddenly the wind shifted and they were being thrown about in a three-metre swell, the wind driving them out to sea.
Hanna decided to drop sail and they spent the night fighting the elements. The wind eased and the rain poured down. It was the longest night Hanna had ever experienced. As daylight grew, so did the wind, the tiny craft heaved to and throw in the massive swell. He ordered his crew to break out the wooden body boards they had stored as a safety precaution and they tied the safety line to their hands. As Hanna checked his charges, he could see the fear in their eyes.
Finally, the inevitable happened and a large swell loomed off their starboard bow. It stood high above the boat and with the wind howling, it came crashing down on them, filling the boat with water as it continued on its march. The next wave sucked the Marion Kadina deep into a hollow pit, she twisted sharply with the sudden drop and with the weight of the water that it now carried, she submerged, dragging her occupants with her as the next wave came crashing down upon them.
Hanna was awash, lost from the boat; he struggled in the water, straining to see. Controlling his panic, he stopped his efforts in order to conserve his energy. If he were to survive this, he would need all the energy he could muster.
The sky grew darker and the rain began to bucket down cutting short his visibility even more. Although he had planned for every contingency, this was definitely the worst case scenario. His only thoughts now were of survival. With every wave, every wall of foam that washed over him, his energy was sucked away. He hung on tightly to his wooden body board.
‘He must survive,’ He thought as he watched the swirling water. He would take a breath, then get thrown about under the white water, released and then gasp for another, over and over again. Slowly, he lost track of time, his mind went blank, his body numb, his guilt, overwhelming.
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As the storm slowly dissipated, the ocean settled down and Hanna floated on the now calmer surface. He found time to reflect. He remembered why he was here, that he had a crew. That there were others out here, somewhere that depended on him. That he alone and his selfish needs was responsible for this.
‘Had they survived? Will he survive?’
The seeds of doubt began to sow in his mind. It was his fault they were there. His fault this had happened. Anger surged in him. He got a grip on himself.
‘This wasn’t going to beat him, if he’s still alive, then the other’s would be to.’ He thought.
‘They were all experienced water men’.
Only barely conscious, he felt the heat of the sun on his face. He watched the sky as the clouds slowly moved about and roughly ascertained its position. Remembering that the swell was pushing in from the south, he chose a direction and began to kick his wooden body board towards his chosen goal, life and land.
The hours passed slowly as he drifted in and out of consciousness, reality and dreams, it was hard to tell, nothing seemed real. His thoughts drifted back to a day at the beach with his beautiful Kadina. A time when his heart sang and mind soared high, when he was consumed with love’s longing. Desire ached in his heart and an all-powerful lust to consume, be part of, to somehow integrate with his beloved ‘pretty girl’ began to overwhelm him. He could see the lights of a village calling on the horizon.
‘Over here,’ they said.
‘Follow us,’ they beckoned.
‘Captain!’ Yelled George
‘We’ve got no thrusters.’
‘Going for a grade four sir,’ said Ray.
He lay on the piece of wood that kept him afloat and mindlessly kicked his feet.
He woke as a wave washed about his legs, cool water massaging his aching muscles. His conscience flickered into reality and he slowly sat up on the sand. The body board that had saved his life was on the water’s edge beside him. There was nothing else to be seen other than the deserted beach, a headland to the north and a long stretch of beach to the south. Hanna lay back against the sand and looked to the sky. He lay there until another wave washed over him and as the memory of his swim sent shivers up his spine, he scurried backward away from the water.
Sleep was his only concern and he looked for shade. He tried to stand and was shocked at his inability to do so. He tried again and slowly stumbled his way over to a nearby tree. The next time he woke his throat was dry. He knew that he must find water. He staggered into the nearby foliage and looked amongst the leaves for any naturally occurring water traps. Sure enough, the skills he had learnt in the military academy proved to be of benefit and he found enough to survive. Once he had composed himself, he walked back to the beach and looked out to sea.
‘Where are you fella’s?’ he called aloud.
‘I know you’re out there, somewhere, but where?’
He scanned the horizon with his hand shading his eyes. He climbed up the sand dune behind him and again looked about. He could see a watercourse entering the sea about two kilometres to the south and suspected that there could be a body of water inland that connected to it. His instincts told him to travel north to the headland. There, the rocks would be home to shellfish and fresh water would course through the cliff face somewhere.
He gathered his body board and trudged along the beach towards the headland. As he went, he penetrated the sand by the water’s edge and was rewarded with cockleshells. His father had taught him how to find them on fishing trips as a child; they would use them as bait. Using one to smash the other he sucked the flesh from its shattered shell.
When he finally arrived, it was late afternoon. He found a water source trickling down a mossy crevice and then made his way up to the summit. Seeing nothing, he decided to gather some wood for a fire. He thought of the irony of making a fire for all to see when the last time he was on an unknown headland he was more concerned in not being seen. Just before the evening darkness fell, he scouted the cliffs for nests and managed to stone a couple of sea birds for a meal. He was ravenous and ate them before they had cooked properly.
That night he sat by his fire and stared out to sea hoping his companions might see the flame. As his thoughts cleared, he remembered his vison of seeing lights on the coastline. Although sleep was nearly upon him, he made for higher ground. Sure enough, there, to the north and a little inland, was the glow of lights. There was definitely a town with enough light to promise some form of help tomorrow. He dismissed any negative thoughts from his mind as he made his way back to the camp; he fed the fire and had a fitful night’s sleep.
The town was on the other side of a fairly large bay. He estimated that it could be a good couple of day’s walk to get to it. There had been no activity on the beach that morning and he was torn between making his way to the village or to continue his vigil on the headland for his crew. By mid-morning, he decided to go for help.
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A couple of hours after noon he came across a cabin. There were fences were four horses stood in a corral; pigs could be heard from a group of sheds. A rooster crowed in the chicken run. As Hanna got closer to the complex, he could hear the clatter of metal and voices yelling. He took a wide course around the buildings to see what the commotion was all about.
There, to his amazement, were two young men locked in ferocious combat. Both were around the same height and build. They swung thick metal swords, each around one metre long and both held shields, some six hundred millimetres wide by one metre long. One would swing his blade and the other would take the blow on the shield, trying to push his opponent off balance, thus giving him enough time to swing his sword. Then one of the men stumbled; the other made his move for domination, pushing him to the ground. His opponent stood over him and pinned him down with his foot on the shield.
Hanna began to run and yelled as the man raised his sword to seal his victory. Both men stopped and watched as Hanna surged forward. By the time he arrived, the victor had stepped off his opponent and extended him his arm to help him of the ground. Although Hanna was unarmed, their mood was obvious, they were on their guard and his uninvited intervention was not welcome.
Hanna followed his instincts, bowing his head slightly; he introduced himself and extended his hand in friendship. The two young men regarded Hanna suspiciously and called out towards the house. A female voice answered, the door opened and a woman of about forty years old stepped out towards them. She was an attractive and strong looking woman. She wore a long dress that flowed elegantly over her body and helped extrapolate her figure. Her long golden hair, tied in a plait, hung down her back. Words were exchanged as then they looked back at Hanna.
Taking his cue, Hanna repeated his original introduction only this time he bowed his head a little more showing the woman proper respect. She then locked eyes with him as she studied Hanna‘s reaction to her deep probing eye contact, then smiling, she indicted the water drum and walked toward it. As she handed him a cup of water, he once again repeated his name as he tapped his chest. She repeated his name as communication slowly developed between them.
Hanna tried to learn as much as he could of their language. Again, he was surprised at how easily he managed to pick it up. At home, on Earth, he could speak several different languages fluently and luckily, he could see a common thread with theirs. He managed to explain his situation although he found it hard to convince them that he had come from over the sea. Again, the concept of a boat was unknown to these people.
Her name was Tooligie and she had three sons, Arno, Urno and Icno. Her husband was killed four years ago. He died bravely, in battle, defending the town of Ardrossan against the barbarian hoards of the east, the Perlumblie. Theirs was an orderly structure to their society and a long recorded history. Hanna was to discover that they were an honourable people with long standing traditions and a strong cultural heritage. They considered themselves warriors. A culture developed from the need, to defend and protect themselves, a total contrast to Warooka’s village in the north. Here, the golden rule of life was in full force, the survival of the fittest.
Tooligie instructed her two sons to ride out and gather some help to search the coastline, but not before an argument with their mother on the merits of leaving her with a mad man. Hanna felt that he agreed with them although he felt honoured that she was so quick to trust him.
Hanna realised that he may have found what he was looking for; there could be clues here to the mystery as to where he was.
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As night began to reclaim the sky, Arno and Urno returned with the news that six men would be arriving in the morning to begin a search of the coastline. Hanna wanted desperately to join them but they insisted that he and Tooligie were to travel to the township for a meeting with the people’s council. Tooligie was adamant that the council was his main priority.
‘To offend them could prove disastrous,’ she said.
Here, the village survived because the people obeyed the rules. That way there was no doubt, as to how the people would behave when in a crisis as they were constantly on high alert. He remembered Curramulka’s words.
‘Together the tribe is strong. Together the tribe will survive.’
During the evening, Hanna learned more about the Perlumblie. Tooligie described them as fierce, animals like creatures that ate human flesh. They used crude weapons and were apparently not very intelligent. Their ability to communicate was limited and although they had been known to fight in large numbers, they were more inclined to hunt in packs. They didn’t ride horses, as they preferred to eat them and their weapons were crude yet effective. Although the villages had tried to exterminate this curse, they always seemed to return. They came from the mountains to the east and they could only enter the fertile valleys of Androssan through the Dark Valley.
‘This was a deep gorge through which the ‘Waters of the Dead’ flowed. It was a defendable position and the entrance was guarded both day and night,’
Early the next morning, they were awoken by the arrival of Icno, Tooligie’s eldest. He made a show, huffing and puffing at his brothers. Hanna suspected that being the eldest; he was feeling guilty for not having been there to protect his family on the arrival of a stranger. Hanna took no offence to this territorial display. After Icno had calmed down, Hanna discovered that he had been away courting a farmer’s daughter on the other side of town. Tooligie gently reprimanded her son for breaking traditional rule and travelling so far alone. Hanna recognised this as a basic rule of warfare, as in a game of chess; ‘you never leave a man unguarded.’
‘Boy’s will be boy’s’ he thought.
Others soon arrived and after closely examining this stranger, much to Hanna’s relief, they finally rode off to the coast in search of more.
Hanna and Tooligie travelled along a track that followed the creek through the grasslands of the valley. Their horses seemed eager for the exercise. As they reached a rise in the road, he could see across the fertile valley to the Carpa River. Tooligie explained that the ‘Waters of the Dead’ was a tributary of that very river.
Tooligie continued to explain that the mountains acted as a natural barrier and protected her people from their enemies. There was no way to cross the river as it wove its way between the thick rainforest and the sheer cliffs of the mountains. The only way over was by Heaven’s Gate, a spectacular natural arch.
To the north was a great peek that dominated the skyline above the township, Mt Androssan. Between that and the escarpments of the west flowed the Baroona River. West were the Walls of Restraint, a jaggered, impassable escarpment that ran from far in the north and south to the dark valley.
‘Come Hanna, we mustn’t stop long if we are to conclude our business and return before night,’ she said.
Hanna turned his young steed towards her and broke into a canter to catch up. As he continued past, he could feel the enthusiasm of his horse as they sped along the trail. Slowly, as he gained more confidence in his riding ability, the thrill and freedom of riding took over. The wind whistled in his ears and he could feel the cool air upon his face. He griped the might steed’s stomach tightly between his calves and relaxed as he controlled the rhythm of his bouncing to coincide with the movement of the horse. As the horse recognised the rider’s newfound confidence, it suddenly stepped up gear, throwing Hanna about in the saddle. Tooligie, realising Hanna was now out of control, shouted the horse’s name.
‘Woe, Tangle foot. Woe!’ she called.
Hanna over reacted, pulling hard on the reins. The horse skidded to a stop, dropping it head as its hooves slid in the dirt. Hanna was thrown over the horse’s head, somersaulting as he grabbed the steed’s neck and unceremoniously, landed on his backside. Tooligie pulled up beside him, skilfully dismounting before her horse had come to a stop. She rushed to his side. Hanna gasped for breath as he tried to sit up.
‘Are you alright?’ asked Tooligie.
‘I’m fine, I think,’ he said.
‘Are you injured?
‘Only my pride,’ he said, rubbing his backside.
They both started to laugh. Hanna lay back on the ground holding his chest, trying to catch his breath. The horse came over and nudged him, licking his face. Hanna realised that the beast was also concerned about his wellbeing.
‘Old Tangle foot, hey?’ said Hanna and they laughed some more.
‘It is plain to see that you are not an experienced horseman. If the steed thinks he is in charge he will only lead you in circles, back to where you came,’ advised Tooligie.
‘And I thought I had it all under control.’
‘I fear that as you are a stranger to these valleys, you may be in considerable danger. You may not be wise in the way of the sword.’
Hanna stood and slowly remounted his horse. He uncomfortably settled back into the saddle. Tangle foot turned his head and eyed his rider. Hanna gave the horse an affectionate pat on the side of its neck and reassured the beast that everything was all right.
‘It’s not your fault tangles,’ he said encouragingly.
‘You were just doing what you were told.’
The horse neighed and shook it head as Hanna’s legs instinctively wrapped tightly around the horse’s midriff.
‘If I am to remain in these lands, I will make it a priority to learn the customs of your people. Although it is the way of my people to avoid violence, I am well versed in the arts of self-defence,’ he said.
‘I can see that you are an honourable man Hanna. Nevertheless, the experience of mortal combat is very real and not learnt from customs or from the books of the Ancients. To take the life of one who is intending to take yours is an instinct that one is born with and must be nurtured until manhood makes its reality felt. I fear for the man who has not had an upbringing to foster this, as those who fear the unknown may construe his principals as a weakness.’
She held his gaze. Hanna nodded to acknowledge that her message was heard, loud, and clear. He felt a little humiliated by her condescension and reminded himself that this was the mother of three young men.
Again, they started towards the village. This time they rode side by side and Tooligie, sensing Hanna’s injured pride, lead the horses into a canter once more. It didn’t take long for the exhilaration of riding to grip Hanna again. He could feel the power of the mighty beast as it skipped beneath him and slowly, he regained his confidence.
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