“Drink your fill while you are here,” Tenko advised. “That will save the water in the horns to drink when we are on the sea.”
When they had refilled the drinking horns they went back to the catamaran and pulled it down into the water. To the north were towering cliffs.
“Will you still pull north, Tenko?” There was an edge of doubt in Kali’s voice.
“I want to see what is beyond that headland, Kali. Perhaps we shall come to the islands of which I was told.”
Kali knew that when Tenko had set his mind to a thing there was no turning back for him. Silently she took up her paddle and they struck out for the north-west.
Tenko guided the craft well out beyond the flurries of white where the waves dashed at the foot of the headland. They looked up at the towering red sandstone ledges above them. They were the nesting places of thousands of screaming seabirds, gulls, guillemots and razorbills. The children watched them plunging and diving into the sea after fish, and carrying back their catch to the clamouring nestlings.
They bent to their paddles again and rounded the headland. The sheer cliffs bent away to the north-east. For an hour they paddled, talking little, saving their energy for their strokes. To the north the reefs curved in a menacing bow. Did the reefs end in an island? Tenko thought he saw green slopes shining in the sun. “Could this be the first of the islands that lie to the north?” he cried.
A cloud floated between them and the sun. The warm shimmer left the water and the sea became a menacing grey. Kali shivered. She cast a glance towards Tenko’s island.
“Tenko! I cannot see the island as plainly as when you first pointed it out,” she said in an anxious voice.
“You will see it when the sun comes from behind the cloud,” Tenko said confidently.
But when the sun came from behind the cloud the island was blotted out. It had vanished completely.
“There is a sea mist rolling down upon us,” Kali said with misgiving at her heart.
Already the line of reefs to the north had become hazy. Out to sea a white mist shrouded the horizon. There was a wet cold feel in the air.
“Will you turn back?” Kali asked.
“No. To get round the headland we should have to pull far out to sea. If this sea fog surrounded us we might have no notion which way we were going. We might pull further and further out to sea. The water in the horns will not last for ever. We do not want to be lost out of sight of land and die of thirst.”
“But you can hardly see the land now,” Kali cried in dismay. “We might be dashed upon those reefs.”
“We will take the chance of that,” Tenko decided. “At least if I cannot see the land I can hear it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tenko means he can hear the waves dashing against the reefs if we move closer in,” said Brockan.
“But how will that help us?” Kali asked.
“When the waves beat upon a sandy bay they sound different from the terrible crashing they make on the rocks. We will nose our way along slowly, listening all the time till I hear waves upon sand. That will mean there is a break in the rocks. We will steer for the break and try to run the boat on to the beach.”
Tenko sounded so calm that Kali was reassured. They turned the catamaran eastward nearer the land. Though the sea mist closed round them, they could still see a few yards in all directions.
Tenko kept a sharp lookout. The fog seemed to press on his eyeballs and dance in a hundred flickering points of light. He listened all the time. The children kept taking a few strokes with their paddles and then stopping and listening. The sea was calm, but gradually the crashing, grinding noise of the waves grew loud.
“Stop!” Tenko commanded abruptly.
Out of the greyness ahead loomed a terrifying reef. Quickly Tenko twisted his paddle in the water and turned the craft. The reef stretched northward unbroken, ahead of them. Jagged, toothed rocks revealed themselves. The sweat broke out on Tenko’s forehead but no word of fear escaped his lips. By this time he had no idea in which direction they were moving. He could only keep the line of the reefs on his right hand and listen keenly for any change in the sound of the crashing waves. The fog seemed to thicken. The catamaran crept over the sea yard by yard. Tenko could do nothing but hope he would see any outstanding pinnacles of the reef in time.
For a brief moment the mist parted and he could see a few yards ahead. The reef pointed a jagged finger to the north but there seemed to be nothing beyond it. They paddled on. It seemed as if they were reaching open sea.
“Stop!” Tenko called.
They rested their paddles and listened.
“The sea sounds further away on my right. Does it sound like that to you too, Brockan?”
“Yes, Tenko. I think I can hear a dragging sound of shingle and sand too.” Brockan’s ears were sharp.
“Let us pull towards it,” Tenko said, altering the course of the catamaran. “Keep a sharp look-out for rocks.”
They dipped their paddles again. The craft moved steadily through the water for about half a mile but still they saw neither reefs nor land. The sound of waves beating on a beach grew louder.
“The water is getting shallower,” Tenko declared. He could tell by the drag of his paddle in it.
“The mist is thinning at last!” Kali exclaimed.
They pulled for another few strokes and then Tenko cried, “Steady the craft!”
They thrust out their paddles and steadied it. Tenko pushed his paddle, blade downwards, into the water. “I touched sand!” he cried. “It was soft sand, not hard rock.” His voice cracked on a note of relief. “Let us paddle very gently and see if it becomes shallower still.”
There was no doubt about it. The shore was shelving rapidly. Tenko peered over the side of his boat. “There is only enough water to reach just above our knees. I will get out and push the craft. You stay where you are, in case it is only a sandy shoal.”
Tenko pushed the boats ahead of him. Another couple of minutes and the catamaran grounded. The waves were curling lazily over a sandy beach.
“Haul up the boats!” Tenko cried.
Kali and Brockan sprang out. Freedom from fear lent strength to their arms. They hauled the catamaran over the wet sand to a slope of dry sand above the tide level. They had reached a bay with another small river running into it. They followed the stream inland for a short distance but there were no signs of either people or herds. They turned back one more to the shore.
“Let us get the meat and drinking horns out of the boats. I am hungry!” Tenko declared.
By the time they had eaten the light began to fail.
“Soon it will be dark,” Tenko said. “We shall have to stay here for the night. There is a soft sandy hollow where we can sleep and this bank will give us shelter from the wind.”
The children curled up in the hollow and pulled their sheepskin cloaks over them. Soon they were asleep from utter exhaustion.
9. The Day of Fear
Dawn broke early, as it does in the northern islands in summer. Tenko stretched himself and looked about him. The mists were clearing, leaving wisps of cloud over the sea. He could see how lucky they had been the previous day. To the south of them were high forbidding cliffs, to the north an ugly reef of rocks stretching out into the sea. They had struck the one place for miles where they could beach their craft.
He looked at Kali and Brockan, still asleep. Kali stirred, sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Has the fog gone?”
“Yes. It’s bright and clear. Let’s have a look what lies about us.”
Kali shook Brockan by the shoulder.
They climbed up the bank of the stream to a low hill and looked about them. Tenko faced to the north and east. He drew in his breath sharply.
“Round that small island at the end of the reef, the coast bends sharply eastward. Look over there! There is another island! The man from the northern tribes told me the truth.”
The long shape of the island stretched i
tself out as if pointing to the ocean beyond. Great cliffs reared themselves skywards. White sands lay at their feet. Beyond the first island Tenko thought he could discern the shadowy shapes of other islands.
“There must be many islands,” Tenko said like one in a dream. “I should like to take the boats and go in search of them.”
Kali looked alarmed. “You promised our father that by sunset tonight…” she began.
“I know! I know!” Tenko said heavily. “I will keep my promise, but some day my boats shall ride those northern seas.”
Brockan’s eyes were searching the land to the south. He exclaimed, “What is that? I can see smoke rising!”
The other two swung round. Sure enough, there was a column of smoke rising from the shores of a gleaming lake, not far from the place where they had slept, but hidden from them by the banks of the stream.
“Smoke can mean only one thing. There are people there. Perhaps they can tell us about the islands to the north.” Tenko hesitated. “But will the people be friendly?”
“Lokar says the people of Orkney have not fought with each other for as long as men can remember,” Kali reminded him.
“All the same, I think we will hide our boats and not leave them on the open beach,” Tenko decided. “There is a small cave in the rocks to the south of the beach were we landed. I can see it from here. Let us pull our boats into it.” Some strange instinct advised Tenko to take this precaution. “I think we will not tell the people that we came in boats, either. We will just say we came from the south.”
They made their way to the boats. The tide was beginning to fall and they dragged the catamaran through the shallow water to the cave. Tenko looked at the sides of it anxiously. He was glad to find that the high-tide mark only came halfway up the walls. There was a little shelving beach of dry sand at the end of the cave where the boats would be safe. They pulled the craft up on to this and waded back to the shore.
In less than half an hour they reached the place from which the smoke was rising. There were three beehive-shaped houses very like the ones at Skara, half buried in the ground. Outside one of them sat a group of three men. They were sharpening flint knives. They rose with a shout and came running when they saw the children.
“Who are you? From where have you come?”
Kali answered for them. “We are of the tribe of Skara. We are Birno’s children.”
One of the men looked at Tenko and gave a start of recognition. “I saw this lad at the Festival of the Sun. He was the lad with the strange axe. I told you about him, Gerth.”
“I did not go to the temple of the Sun this year because I have wounded my foot,” Gerth explained. “Ingsay here suffers from a sickness of the stomach. That is why Stanga went alone. We are only a small tribe of Saebar.”
Gerth seemed to be the head of the tribe. Women and children came out of the huts and gathered round, wideeyed at the sight of strangers.
“Where did you come from?” Gerth asked.
Tenko pointed vaguely to the south. “From Skara, towards the midday sun.”
“It is more than a day’s journey, yet you are here before the sun is at its highest. How is that?” Gerth sounded puzzled.
“We slept the night in a hollow by a stream,” Tenko replied quite truthfully.
“Why did you come here?” The question was sharp this time.
“We wanted to see what country lay to the north of Skara. There was a man at the Festival of the Sun to whom I talked. He came from a northern tribe. He told me many islands lay to the north. I wanted to see for myself,” Tenko replied.
“There was a man from the tribe of Bowana at the Festival. I saw him talking to this lad,” Stanga affirmed. “The tribe of Bowana live north of the rising sun. I have heard him tell, too, of many islands beyond his coast.”
“You will be hungry after your journey. Have you eaten?” Gerth asked. It was the custom in Orkney to offer food to men from another tribe.
The children realised they were indeed hungry. Beyond a drink from the stream they had had no breakfast. They had been too eager to discover the source of the smoke.
“Yes, we are hungry,” Kali said.
“Then you will eat with us,” Gerth invited them.
The women brought out milk in bowls and meat from the huts. The children drank thirstily and ate the meat. The tribe stood round watching them. Gerth took a drink of milk and gnawed at a bone also. This was the ceremony of hospitality. When he had shown that friendship was extended he asked Tenko a question.
“What have you done with your strange axe? Stanga told me of it. Have you got it with you?”
Rather unwillingly Tenko drew the axe from the large pocket inside his tunic.
“I should like to look at it,” Gerth said, putting out his hand.
Tenko could hardly refuse, since they had eaten together. Reluctantly he handed it over. Gerth turned it about and cautiously ran his thumb along its keen edge. He was astonished to find it so sharp.
“What kind of stone is this?” he asked Tenko.
“It is not stone at all.”
“How is it made then?”
“I do not know. I have never seen one made. My father got it from a man of a tribe to the south. He told my father it was made by melting some strange kind of stone in a fierce fire.”
Gerth looked incredulous. “I cannot believe it. Stone will not melt in a fire.”
“That is what I was told,” Tenko answered stubbornly. “The man from Bowana told me there were islands far, far away to the north where men had bronze axes like mine. That is why I am seeking the islands. I want to learn the secret of how my axe was made. Other things might perhaps be made in the same way, knives and pins.”
“I journeyed part of the way home with the man from Bowana,” Stanga said. “As we walked, we talked of the axe this lad carried. The man told me he had been in a skin boat to Rousa, the island of hills you can see from the north coast. There he found people who were clever at making things with their hands. They made cups of a different shape from ours.”
Tenko felt at last that he was on the track of discovery.
“What tribe were these people?” he asked.
“He said they were of the tribe of Rinyo. They dwell under the shadow of a great headland to the north.”
“Did the men of Rinyo make bronze axes such as this?” Tenko asked.
“No. But the man told me the folk of Rinyo said there were many more islands to the north, beyond our sight. Men had come across the great eastern sea to them in strange boats, much bigger than our skin boats.”
The children exchanged quick glances but they did not mention their craft hidden in the cave. Something warned them to be silent.
Tenko could not keep the excitement out of his voice. “Tell me more about these people.”
“I cannot tell you much; only what the man of Bowana told me. The men of Rinyo had told him that the men from across the eastern sea carried shining axes and bright knives, not made of stone like ours,” Stanga said.
“I must go to the island of Rousa,” Tenko said with determination.
“How would you get there, my lad?” Gerth’s voice was sharp.
Tenko almost bit his tongue to keep the words from tumbling out about his two log-boats. “I could make a skin boat out of the bones of oxen and their hides,” he said lamely.
“That is a good thought,” Gerth said. “If you learn how your axe is made, will you come back this way and show us how it is done?”
“Yes, I might do that,” Tenko said a little boastfully.
“Then you will lend us your axe till you come back?” Gerth asked craftily. “It is usual to make a gift when you have eaten with a friendly tribe.”
Tenko saw the trap into which he had fallen. “Oh, I could never give away my axe,” he said quickly. He stretched out his hand for the axe again but Gerth held on to it.
“I am not asking you to give it,” he said. “I only ask you to lend it till you can
make me another.”
He held the axe menacingly, its edge towards Tenko. Kali put her hand to her mouth in alarm. Brockan bit his lip. Tenko decided it would be dangerous to try to snatch back the axe. He must match cunning with cunning.
“Very well,” he agreed. “Will you give me a hide and bones in exchange, to make a skin boat?”
“Yes. You shall have that, but you will have to wait till I kill an ox.”
“We will wait. May we sleep at your hut?”
“Yes, you shall sleep on the floor of my hut,” Gerth agreed.
“But, Tenko, we promised my father…” Kali was beginning, but Tenko silenced her with a gesture and a frown.
As the sun began to sink, Gerth led them to his hut. Tenko walked beside Kali.
“What shall we do, Tenko?” Kali whispered.
“Listen, Kali! Wait till everyone is asleep. Then you and Brockan must creep out of the hut silently. Make your way to the cave where the boats are hidden. If the tide is high, you may have to wait to get to them.”
“But what will you do, Tenko?” Kali muttered back.
“I will try to get my axe. Hide behind the rocks on the shore and wait for me. If I have not come by the time the sun is risen you must get the boats out and try to make your way back to Skara.”
“Without you?” Kali sounded desperate.
“Yes, without me! You are to do as I bid you, Kali. I must do my best to get you back to Skara as I promised our father.”
Kali gulped back the tears. “I will tell Brockan when I get a chance.”
That night they were lodged in Gerth’s own hut. Tenko was relieved to find there was only a short passage leading to it. The huts were poor compared with those of Skara. There were no stone dressers nor beds. There was a fire in the centre and Gerth’s family slept round it on heather beds covered by sheepskins. Tenko was glad of this. It might make escape easier. He remembered with satisfaction that Gerth was limping from a sore foot.
Heather beds were made for the strangers and the children lay down. Kali was beside Brockan but Tenko was on the other side of the hearth beside Gerth. Gerth put the bronze axe under his pile of heather and lay upon it. Everyone settled down to sleep. Though Kali and Brockan pretended to sleep too, they were alert and waking. For two hours, Tenko bided his time. Then cautiously he raised himself on his elbow and peered round him by the light of the smouldering fire. Kali lifted her head too and laid a warning hand on Brockan. Nobody else stirred. All round them the sleepers breathed evenly. Gerth was snoring. Tenko sat up and pointed to the passage. Kali saw him through the trembling air and smoke above the fire. Lithe as a fox she slipped to her feet and pulled at Brockan’s arm. He was up in one single noiseless movement. They waited a minute to see if anyone else stirred, but no one did. On tiptoe, picking their way round the recumbent bodies by the firelight, they reached the low narrow passage. Kali stooped and led the way. She and Brockan disappeared like mice down a hole. When he was sure they were clear Tenko breathed a sigh of relief. He must give them time to reach the beach before he made the next move.
The Boy with the Bronze Axe Page 11