by Doug Kelly
He had been steering to clear the cliff, but he remembered that when he had visited the summit of the hill, he had observed that banks and shoals extended far out from the shore and were nearly on a level with the surface of the lake. In calm water, they were visible, but waves concealed them, so they were extremely dangerous.
Aton steered out from the land and left the shoals on his right. On the other side, there was a sandy and barren island, upon which he thought he saw the skeleton of a shipwreck. It was quite probable, because the island was in the path of vessels sailing along the shore. Beyond the cliff, the land had a downward slope, curving inwards to the south. That created an inhospitable coast, because the hills came down to the beach, ending abruptly in low, but steep, sandstone cliffs. Many large islands stood out on the left, but Aton, not knowing the shape of the lake beyond the cliff, thought it best to follow the curve of the shore. As he sailed onward, he found that he had gone off his predicted course because the curve of the shore now began to go northward, and looking in that direction, he saw a merchant vessel sailing across the lake, under one square sail.
The other vessel was evidently steering to keep just inside the line of the islands. Aton, with some difficulty, steered in her direction. The southwest wind was immediately to the rear; his sail did not respond well to tacking at that moment, so he lowered it, and rowed until he changed direction. Then he hoisted the sail again and sailed onward. That improved her cruising, but as the merchant ship had such a great head start, it would take some time to gain on her. He did want to keep a cautious distance because he understood the reputation of lawless sailors. They were beyond the jurisdiction of any warlord’s court.
Certain mariners, only a step from being true pirates, did not hesitate to land and pillage a house or even a village, if they saw an opportunity. Likewise, those who lived anywhere near the shore considered it good sport to light a fire and lure a vessel to her destruction, or if she was stranded on a sandbar, forcing the crew to leave with their small boats. Perhaps they would destroy both ship and crew in their defenseless state. Therefore, the many wrecks and casualties were not so much from natural obstacles, since the innumerable islands, and the creeks and inlets of the mainland, usually offered shelter no matter which way the storm blew; however, they did not offer protection from the hostility of the coast’s inhabitants. If there was an important harbor and a town where sailors could obtain provisions or repairs, the coastal people jealously guarded the right of entrance, and they permitted no ship, however much in danger from a storm, to leave if she had anchored, without the payment of a fee. Vessels most often avoided the harbors, towns, and the mainland altogether. They would rather sail along beside the islands, which were usually uninhabited, and anchor there in the dark of night. Aton, remembering the character of these deckhands, resolved to keep well away from them, but to watch their route as a guide for safe sailing in the unfamiliar waters.
The mainland ran abruptly to the north, and the boat, as he brought her more into the wind, sprang forward at a rapid pace. The large spread of sail forced her more swiftly through the water than he had ever managed was possible. He lost sight of the ship behind some islands, and as he approached them, began to wonder if he should drop his sail there because he must be getting near her. To his surprise, he saw her great square sail just ahead. The shore there was flat; the hills that had previously constrained the view suddenly stopped. The shore had overgrown with reeds and cattails, and mighty cypress trees rose from near the beach.
Soon after finding the merchant ship, he arrived at the opening of a strait. It was very wide, and either shore was flat. To the right he saw some more hills, but to the left it was level as far as he could see. He lowered his sail and rowed due east into the channel. So long as the shore was level, he had no difficulty because the wind blew over it. When the hills on his left gradually came near and almost overhung the channel, they shut off much of the breeze, and his progress slowed. On the right shore, wooded hills rose from the water like a wall; on the left, it was a perfect plain. He could see nothing of the merchant ship, although he knew that she could not use her sail here, but must be working through with her long oars. Her heavy hull must make rowing a slow and laborious process. The winding of the strait concealed her, but she could not be far ahead. He continued to row and found the heat, under the doldrums of the hills, oppressive. He had been afloat nearly half a day, and he felt weary and cramped from sitting so long in the boat.
Although he rowed hard, he did not seem to make much progress, and he realized that there was a distinct current, which seemed to impede his advance, flowing through the channel from north to south. If he stopped rowing, he found the boat drifting slowly backward. The long aquatic weeds that he passed all seemed to incline southward, as if they were bowing respectfully to the flow of the mighty Mississippi River, which had helped create, and still fed, this great lake.
Tired and hungry, he decided to land, rest awhile, and then climb the hill to see what he could of the channel. He soon reached the shore and ran the boat aground beside a sturdy bush, tied it there, and then covered it with pulled weeds. The relief of stretching his body was so great that it seemed to give him fresh strength. Rather than eat, he climbed the hill. From the top, he could easily distinguish the remainder of the strait, but a short distance from where he stood, it bent again and proceeded due east. The passage contracted there, but the narrowing did not continue far. The shores quickly receded after approaching so close to each other. The merchant vessel had passed the narrows with the aid of her long oars, but she moved slowly and it appeared that she moved with difficulty, too. She was in his view again, and near the eastern mouth of the strait. As Aton watched, he saw her square sail raised again, showing that she had reached a spot where the hills stopped obstructing the wind. Entering the open lake, she altered her course and sailed away to the northeast, following the shore of the northern mainland. Looking eastward, across the lake, he saw a vast and beautiful expanse of water with no islands, reaching to the horizon. To the north and south, the land fell rapidly away, skirted with inlets and shoals. Between them, the smaller shore vessels usually voyaged. He had heard of that open water, and it was his intention to sail into it and explore, but as the sun began to set toward the west, he thought that he had better wait until morning, to travel with the light of day. For now, he would row through the channel, beach the boat on a section of shore that stood farthest out, and start again in the morning. Turning to look back the other way, westward, he was surprised to see a second channel, which came almost to the foot of the hill on which he had stood, but it ended there and did not connect with the first. An island, which he must have sailed past that afternoon, had concealed the entrance. The second channel seemed more familiar to him than the flat and reedy shore at the mouth of the true strait, and he recognized it as the one that he had journeyed to on foot through the forest. He had not actually traveled the true strait at all. After sailing past that deceptive inlet, he began to question his ability and navigational skills as a mariner.
A stockade, if built near where he stood, would command the channel. Attackers could not shoot arrows across, but vessels under the protection of the enclosure could obstruct the passage, maybe with floating booms. If hostile fleets and armies prevented access to the fort’s front, then that canal could provide provisions and materials from the rear. An invader coming from the north must cross there. It convinced him even more fully of the importance of that uninhabited and neglected place.
For many years, there had been a general feeling that someday invaders would make such an attempt. Fortifications would be of immense value in repelling the hostile hordes and preventing their landing. Aton believed he had just found a critically important piece of geography from a trade or military aspect of development and for protection of the clans that his father had united, but he was fleeing these clans. His current opinion or knowledge was as worthless to the people of his home territory as it had
ever been. Nevertheless, whoever held this strait would possess the key of the lake, and would be master of it, or would at least hold the balance between the rivaling populations dotted along the coasts on either side. No vessel could pass without permission. It was the most obvious illustration of the contracted mental view of the petty warlords and their public officials. So concerned about the frontiers of their provinces, those petty tyrants frequently fought over a single estate, but were oblivious of the opportunity of empire that was open to any who would seize it.
If a warlord built a fortification on the strait and had vessels of war, they could float in this second channel sheltered from the winds. There they would be ready to sail and flank an attacking force. While he contemplated those advantages of location, he remembered that he had once sat down beside the second inlet, thinking it to be the channel. Doubts rose in his mind. If that matter so easily misled him, he might also be deceived in other ideas.
After descending from the hill, he ate and drank sparingly, and then pushed out again in the boat. The current was so powerful in the narrowest part of the strait that he wondered if he would ever row away from it. When he was free of the channel, he hoisted sail and directed his course straight out for an island that stood almost opposite the entrance. As he approached, sailing along at a good pace, suddenly the boat dragged bottom. He knew in an instant that he had grounded on soft mud, and sprang up to lower the sail, but before he could do so, the boat came to a standstill on the mud bank. The waves following behind broke over the rear as she stopped. Fortunately, they were small, but they flung enough water onboard to spoil part of his provisions and floated everything that was loose on the floor of the boat.
He was worried about the water in the vessel and suddenly realized that he had nothing with which to bale her out. He dropped the sail to keep the wind from snapping the mast. He desperately tried to force the boat back with his paddle. His weight and the resistance of the thick mud were too great and kept him from shoving off. When he pushed, the paddle sank into the soft bottom because there was nothing against which it could press. After struggling for some time, he paused, beginning to fear that his voyage had already reached an end. He knew that he had to lighten the boat, but there was no cargo to throw overboard. He was the only weight, so he immediately undressed and went overboard. His feet sank deep into the dark ooze. By rapidly moving his feet, he managed to push the boat, and it slowly crept forward. Pushing, struggling, and pressing onward, he forced her back to the open water.
The waves drove her back almost as much as he pushed her ahead, but she did move, and he could feel the water getting deeper beneath him. When he pulled himself into the boat, the waves moved the boat back, and he had to start over. This time, he decided that before he attempted to get into the boat, he would turn her sideways to the wind. Turned sideways, her length found more resistance, and although the waves sent her some way upon it, she soon came to a standstill. He climbed in as quickly as he could, took the paddle, and pushed away from that spot
Not until he had gotten more than halfway to the mainland did he pause to get dressed. He rested a moment and looked back. Guessing from the color of the water, he suspected that the shallows extended a long distance and surrounded the islands at the mouth of the channel so that no ship could enter or pass out in a direct line, but must steer to the north or south to avoid that muddy peril. As the sun slipped closer to the horizon, the doubt of his ability to land on another island rose. He returned to the mainland, which he reached without much trouble because of the current.
He pulled the boat onto the shore as far as he could. It was not a good place to land, because the bottom was sandstone and studded with angular rocks. Some of the stratified stone jutted up from the ground and appeared as though it came from a violent origin. Those stone monuments endorsed the ancient stories of massive earthquakes that had changed the course of the Mississippi River, increased the span of Lake Pontchartrain and turned a large swath of the southern part of the continent into intermittent wetlands while taking the city of Baton Rouge, along with many others, under water.
Cottonwood had overgrown the shore nearly up to the waterline, and then magnolia trees covered the rising ground. Their branches seemed stunted by strong winds, due to how exposed the spot was to the windstorms of spring. The hills beyond had shut off the southwest wind. Aton was so weary that for some time he did nothing but rest on the ground, which grass sparsely covered. A brief respite restored his energy.
He gathered some dry sticks, struck his flint against the steel, ignited the tinder, and soon had a fire. It was not necessary for warmth; the evening was warm enough, but it was his hunter's instinct. When camping for the night, the hunter, unless prowlers were suspected to be nearby, customarily lit a fire. It was primarily to cook his supper, and secondly to make the spot his home for the evening. The hearth was home, his father would say. Aton had nothing that needed cooking. He took his cowhide from the boat and spread it on the ground.
A seasoned cowhide, conditioned against the rain, was the first possession of every hunter. It kept him from the damp and protected him from the heaviest precipitation. Three short poles stuck in the earth could support the hunter’s little tent. Two crossed at the top in front, forming a fork, and fastened with a leather thong, the third rested on the bifurcation. Aton did not erect a second hide. The evening was so warm and beautiful that he did not need it; his cloak acted as a blanket and would be ample covering. The fire crackled and blazed intermittently, just far enough from him that he did not feel burdened by the heat.
Robins sang in the cottonwood all around him, the red-winged blackbird called, and the chorus never stopped. The expanse of waters stretched before him. There, he could even see over the low islands. In the sky, a streak of cloud was tinted red by the sunset, slowly becoming paler as the light receded. He reclined into an idle, thoughtless state that succeeded strenuous physical exertion. The lengthening shadow, the sinking fire, and the appearance of a star, warned him that the night was here. He rose, threw more driftwood on the fire, and then got his cloak and his boar spear from the boat. He wrapped himself in the cape, bringing it well over his face because of the dew that would arrive before sunrise. Drawing the lower corners of the hide over his feet and limbs, he stretched his body and fell asleep with the spear beside him. It was comforting to sleep with a weapon.
There was the possibility of cannibals wandering in the night, but not much probability. There would be far more danger near the forest path, where they might expect a traveler and wait to attack the lonely wanderer, but they could not have known beforehand where he would rest that night. If anyone had seen the course of his boat, if anyone stumbled upon his camp by chance, his fate was certain. He knew that, but trusted in the improbability of any cannibals frequenting a place where there was nothing to plunder. Besides, he had no choice because he could not reach the islands. If there were risks by sleeping here, he had to forget them. He was no longer in the median of life’s road, where his father had wished for him to stay.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Aton woke, the height of the sun immediately indicated that he had slept longer than he had intended. Throwing off his cloak, he stood up, but immediately crouched down again because a ship was passing a short distance from the shore and nearly opposite his encampment. She had two masts, and from the flags flying, the various bannerettes, and the movements of so many men onboard, he knew it was a ship of war. He took caution, being anxious to remain unseen and regretted leaving his boat so exposed because the bush beside which he had landed the vessel only hid it from one side. The shore was bare and open; if the sailors looked in Aton’s direction, the men onboard would surely see his boat and might even see him, but the sailors maintained the warship’s course. They were either too engaged with their own affairs or they kept a careless lookout. Either way, it did not matter because no one appeared to notice. No one lowered a boat from the warship, and the deckhands continued with t
heir own affairs.
He watched the warship for quite a while before he attempted to move. Her course was to the east, inside the fringe of islands. The ship was far enough away that he could not discern the flags, but the design of the ship was familiar enough to ascertain that it was not from a distant, foreign territory. He watched the crew hoist the sails, letting them bellow out in the stiff wind. She sailed fast, having the wind coming directly from her rear, which suited her two square sails.
The wind had risen during the night and now blew almost like a storm. The gale was so swift that he doubted the advisability of sailing on the open water. The waves there would be too high for his boat, which floated low in the water. They would wash over and possibly swamp her. He had only two courses available to him. Either sail inside the islands under shelter of the land, or remain where he was until the stiff wind abated to a gentle breeze.
If he decided to sail on, he would soon reach an unknown part of the northern shores, where danger might await. On the other hand, to follow the warship would most likely bring him near the great city of Acadia, famous for its commerce, its riches, and the warlike disposition of its warlord, Grinald, known as Black Fang on the battlefield. Grinald the warlord was the acknowledged head of the league of clans near the city of Acadia, where he lived, but strangely enough, he had a reputation for attacking other clans in the very league over which he ruled. His furious energy was always disturbing the region, and Aton had no doubt that Black Fang was now at war with someone and that the warship was on its way to assist either him or maybe his enemies. One of the possibilities that had impelled Aton to this voyage of escape was to take service in the ranks of a conquering army and perhaps gradually rise to a command and enrich himself with the spoils of war after proving his manhood on the battlefield.