by Doug Kelly
With the perfect vision of hindsight, he thought about the events that had accompanied their entrance into the marshes; the migration of the birds seemed the most obvious alert to an impending hazard. Clearly, they had been flying away from some concealed danger. The wind at that time was blowing in a direction that would appear to ensure safety to them into, but not out of, the poisonous marshes. The birds, so used to the hidden perils in the remote sections of the lake, had understood the danger. They had used their keen senses that allowed them to migrate over unimaginable distances to flee in the opposite direction of the toxic gas and black water. The more he thought of it, the more he felt convinced that was the explanation. Clearly, the birds had anticipated that the shifting winds would carry the gases in the opposite direction from their flight. Therefore, they had rushed away, and the insects and fish had done the same, too.
The swiftness of the wind that had carried them into the black waters had actually provided them some safety by pushing away the thicker and most poisonous portion of the vapor. The wind had compressed the gases toward the east so that they had entered the dead zone under more favorable conditions. When the wind had decreased, while they were on the black island, they had started to feel the effect of the noxious vapors rising subtly from the ground, and if they had not had the good fortune to escape so soon, they would have been the next victims of that dark and evil place. They could not quite comprehend the twists of fate that had kept them alive. The other conditions appeared to be due to the decay of the ancient city of Baton Rouge, the decomposition of accumulated matter, phosphorescence of subterranean gaseous emissions, and toxic waste. Sailors had told him stories of bioluminescent life in the ocean, and he supposed that he had seen something like that in the gloomy marsh, or maybe it was a reflection in the shimmering air. Most likely, he had been just hallucinating. The black rocks that had crumbled with a touch were probably the remains of ancient rotten buildings saturated with the dark water and penetrating vapors, or grains of sand bound tightly into strange shapes by some sticky poisonous ooze. Near the Gulf Coast, similar remains were rumored to be white and resembled salt or other light colored mineral residue that remained when hard water had evaporated. Maybe that was due to the close proximity of the ocean’s mineral-rich water. The great underwater eruptions that had occurred as they were leaving the demonic realm and which had sent heavy underwater waves after them, were incomprehensible, until he remembered that the Americans had created vast sewers and tunnels under their ancient cities and now those were open to the lake. Aton thought that the eruptions were due to compressed air, or more probably to poisonous gases disturbed by a deep current.
CHAPTER SEVEN
For several days, they remained on the island to continue recuperating from their near-death experience. Gradually, their memories of the terrifying scenes they had witnessed withered away like the life on that black and desolate island had already done, and their minds and bodies slowly came back to normal. On their last day of convalescence, they sailed away in the morning with a gentle breeze from the west, which impelled the boat smoothly. Aton believed that they were near the eastern extremity of the lake, and by sailing in that direction, they could reach that shore and follow its coast to the south. The prow of the boat cut swiftly through the waves, a light spray flew occasionally in their faces, and the wind blew at a constant pace. In the cloudless sky, swallows performed their ballet under the intermittent shadows of herons and egrets flying high above, and on the water, half a dozen ducks moved aside to let them pass. A trail of ducklings hurried along to keep pace with their mother as the wake of the vessel sent them bobbing up and down while they paddled away.
Not long after they started, they encountered a mist, which came softly over the surface of the water with the wind, and quickly condensed, occluding their view. Even the sun was hardly visible. Only moments later, they passed through it and emerged again into the bright sunlight. Superstitious sailors had told Aton of these warm mists, and that they believed them to forecast good weather during the heat of midsummer, which was approaching.
Aton kept a good distance from the mainland, which was hilly and wooded, and only had a few islands near it. In the extreme distance, he observed a stretch of hills, which he supposed to be near the eastern shore of the lake, and from the appearance of the terrain, he thought that they were sailing into a large bay. He pondered to himself whether he should alter their course or continue and trace the shoreline. If he left the great bay unexplored by not following the shore, he could not say that he had circumnavigated the lake.
The wind increased during the height of the day, and the boat took full advantage of the breeze. Twice they passed through similar warm mists. Now, there were no islands at all, and a line of low and jagged cliffs marked the shoreline ahead of them. Once more, Aton thought that it might be the eastern boundary of the lake. Considering that the water must be deep, and safe to go there, he continued steering the boat into the bay to look at the geography of the eastern shore. There were only a few trees that came to the edge of the cliff, and he saw no signs of human inhabitants, not even a hint of smoke, boats, or houses. Although the waves were not large, he could hear the sound of the surf beating on the beach and slapping a segment of the stratified rock that formed the low cliff where it was closest to the water, jutting into the waves on the northern end of the long shoreline. Now that they were inside the large bay and closer to the bluff, Aton noticed a rocky, conical protrusion a great distance beyond the rock wall. Considering the distance from where he observed it, the dimensions were staggering. It was like a mountain when compared to the largest hill he had ever seen. However, intermittent fog obscured the view, which increased his curiosity of the strange and distant protuberance.
Immediately after witnessing that high, stony peak, they entered into another warm fog that concealed their view of the beach, the cliff, and everything behind it. The haze seemed like a large cloud on the surface of the water, and broader than those they had entered previously that day.
Suddenly, the boat stopped abruptly, which tossed Hauk forward onto his knees. He almost went over the prow; the mast cracked, and they heard wood split beneath their feet. As soon as Aton could get up from the tiller, he saw that the boat had cracked a seam between two planks that ran the length of the hull. Hauk saw the same, and gasped at the tragedy. Water slowly came up through the split. They had run into a large, jagged rock that had cracked the hull. Nature had shaped the stone like a splitting wedge and hidden it just below the surface of the water. They had gone onto the rock at full speed. Aton feared that their voyage on the lake was over. Their only means of speedy travel, or maybe escape, was broken under their feet. Almost immediately the mist passed, leaving them in the bright day, but slowly sinking.
Aton turned his attention to the water surrounding them by plunging a paddle down into it, and he found that the depth of the lake here would have barely made it to his knees. Judging by the appearance of the water, he thought that it was shallow all the way to the sandy beach. He was sad that they had wrecked, but happy that the shore would be so easy to reach. His boat, the product of so much effort, in which they had traversed from danger to safety on more than one occasion, lay dead in the water. Knowing that he could not repair the boat here, he even doubted whether he could have repaired it at home with his dear cousin Briand to help him. One thing was certain; they could sail no farther. There was nothing else to do now but get to shore and travel on foot.
“Hauk, it’s time for a bath. Jump in.”
“Not without that bag,” said Hauk.
Near the back of the boat, the split was not as wide. Their bag of treasure was not in danger of falling through the narrow crack, but not wanting to take a chance with their newfound fortune sinking into the water; Hauk almost leaped on the leather bag and grabbed it like a mother snatching her child from a burning house. With the heavy sack held tightly in his arms, he jumped overboard. His feet sank deep into the mud
.
Aton pointed to the beach. “I’ll meet you there.”
Hauk took long heavy strides through the water and left a noisy wake as he went sloshing to the shore. With a heavy heart, Aton took his oar and stepped overboard. Feeling with the paddle, he probed the lake’s muddy bottom as he strode to shore, unencumbered by a heavy load. He quickly waded all the way to the beach. For most of the distance, the water was no deeper than his knees. The boat was intact enough that he would have time to bring all of their belongings to the beach. Their vessel still partially floated, but slowly sank as he made several trips back and forth. On his last trip, he wrapped all of their remaining possessions in his oiled cowhide, slung it over his shoulder, and trudged to the beach. After he brought all of their cargo to the shore, he sat down on the sand and looked out at the broken mast, and the sail still flapping uselessly in the breeze. A storm was brewing on the horizon, so he went to the boat one final time and got the sail. They could use it for shelter.
A cloud of depression tried to rain down on Aton. It was a long time before his mind was able to let go of the unexpected tragedy and get to work determining exactly where they were. Just in case people inhabited this region, he knew they needed to conceal all of their possessions before they walked around to determine how to get off this coastal area and find cover from the approaching weather. Although the distant cliff was low and perpendicular to the shore, there was no way to scale it. They would have preferred to conceal themselves and their possessions above the cliff because that high ground could provide a wide view, allowing them to survey their surroundings.
Heavy winds and a thick fog had rolled in, bringing with them an increasing dimness of the setting sun’s light. After gathering all of their salvaged gear and mentally inventorying it, they wrapping it with the sail and covered it with sand. Aton decided it was time to move and Hauk agreed.
As a slave, Hauk had rarely ventured far from home, usually only with his master to battles. Although he had camped in the wilderness, on those occasions he had a supply of food and a familiarity with his surroundings. Unlike Aton, he was not used to venturing into unfamiliar backwoods. He trusted Aton’s judgment, but he was hungry and wary for his safety in an unfamiliar territory where they had just become marooned, and where neither of them understood exactly where they were. Wanting to travel light while they explored, the castaways took nothing with them and proceeded north along the beach onto which fate had thrown them. Without a doubt, it was an unknown region to Aton and most certainly unfamiliar to Hauk. Neither had a good idea of their exact location, so they could only guess. They were walking on a sandy soil, mingled with stones, which appeared destitute of any sort of vegetation. The ground, very unequal and rough, was in some places plagued with a multitude of nesting birds, which made walking through these sections of shoreline extremely difficult. As they went past these nests, birds launched themselves into the air, bouncing off each other as they rose and flew awkwardly away in all directions. Others, more active, rose in flocks and passed in clouds over their heads. Aton thought he recognized seagulls and roseate spoonbills wading in the shallow water, their shrill cries echoing off the short cliff to their right. Aton called out to see, if by remote chance, someone might hear his shouting. They stopped to listen for a reply, but no sound arose above the lapping waves, the wind in the distant trees, or the echoes of his call for help. Parallel to the shoreline, they continued their march northward along the hazy beach.
While the sun descended toward the watery horizon and then slowly slid below it, they sluggishly trudged along what felt like a never-ending shoreline. It was much later now, and the thick fog made the night very dark. The birds were less numerous on this part of the shore. The lake was also less tumultuous, and they observed that the agitation of the waves had diminished. They scarcely heard the noise of the rollers, and that was good. If the wind did increase, it would be a cause for worry, because if a storm did roll in, they had no shelter or fire to keep them dry and warm, and they were very hungry.
The shoreline abruptly turned to the right. They found calm water in a semicircular bay, where the sharp point sheltered them from the wind and waves of the open lake. Aton finally concluded that they were on a peninsula. In the confusion of abandoning the boat, and the fog hindering their view, they had thought that this was the mainland. Their eyes had played a trick on them. Nature had attached this promontory to and projected it from, the mainland, or what they hoped was the mainland.
Although their strength was nearly exhausted, they still marched courageously forward, tired and hungry, in the dark. After further trudging along toward the inland by following the curve of the semicircular bay to its interior, they reached an elevated point composed of slippery rocks, and realized they would not get inland by foot because they had no way to scale the rock wall. At this location, the peninsula abutted the shore in a grotesque outline of high rocks, which formed the long cliff. Rather than retrace their steps, they turned away from the beach and crossed the short dimension of the peninsula. Following the shoreline on the opposite side of the promontory, over a soil just as sandy and rugged, the castaways returned to the spot on the beach where they had hidden their supplies.
Before they had wrecked, when they had approached the shore in the boat, they had briefly seen through the mist what they supposed was the mainland, but they had not been able to survey it effectively. However, Aton, accustomed with his hunter eyes to pierce through the gloom, had seen the extensive rock cliff, which indicated a partially elevated coast, giving them hope that this was the mainland and not another island. In the night, they could not positively determine whether it was a single island or connected with others, although they desperately hoped that they had actually attained the mainland. Trapped in the dark, with the lake surrounding them on one side, and since they had no boat; they must therefore wait until the next day to explore the shore southward and escape to the high ground connected to the peninsula.
They made it back to the point from which they had started. Their buried pile of wet belongings was near the bag of loot Hauk had half-buried. They realized that this was where they were going to spend the night. Beside the lake, the night wind was cool and so was the sandy beach. Aton had flint and steel, but they would need wood and dry tinder to start a fire. On the barren shore, they had seen neither, but they searched in vain for driftwood or dry shrubbery. They found nothing but sand and stones. The long and painful hours passed by. Wrapping the salvaged sail around them helped somewhat, but it was no comparison to the warmth of a fire. The wind had fallen almost to a calm, gentle breeze, and the noise of the lake continued to subside. Meanwhile, the sky was clearing little by little. Toward midnight, the stars shone bright, and using his knowledge of constellations, Aton determined his approximate bearings. They were on the eastern side of the lake, just as he had suspected.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The night passed slowly. As morning approached, the sky began to lighten; the horizon remained dark, but with daybreak, another thick mist rose from the lake so that their vision could scarcely penetrate beyond twenty paces or so from where they stood. As the sun rose, the fog gradually unrolled itself in great heavily moving waves, but the diminishing fog preceded a rising mist. It was only a fine-weather mist caused by the high humidity levels around this large body of water, condensed by the cool northern breeze. Just after sunrise, the mist became more transparent. It grew thicker above, but cleared away below, as the ground warmed with the rising sun. Soon their surroundings appeared as if it had descended from a cloud, then the lake showed itself around them, spreading far. In the morning light, they could see that a channel had separated part of the curved peninsula from the shore of the mainland; through that channel rushed a rapid current created by a river dumping into the lake. A hot sun soon completely penetrated to the surface of beach. The mist was gone.
Aton, following the impulse of his heart, without saying a single word, immediately threw himself into the
current and began to swim across. He was in a hurry to be on the other side and struggled vigorously against the flow of water perpendicular to his direction of travel. Hauk could see Aton’s shoulders emerging at each stroke. The current carried Aton parallel to his destination, so he made slow progress toward the shore. He finally reached the other side, down current from the place he had intended. He landed near the foot of a high wall of sandstone.
“I’m going to make a raft for our supplies,” Aton yelled with hands cupped to his mouth. “Bring it all closer to the shore. I’ll hurry.”