The circle of stones that surrounded the camp was stowed away, breakfast was eaten and without any further delay they were off again. As they marched into the morning Paul was amazed to see how much progress they had made the day before. The mountains were much nearer now, the snow-capped peaks towering over them, small clumps of snow dusted fir trees rising towards the peaks which then left the trees behind as they rose like pillars of might and stone into the sky. The path skirted around the foothills of the mountains, though consequently the gradient of the track was unpredictable, rising one moment and then descending the next. Yet still it disappeared behind a small set of hills further south, and Paul presumed that it then headed either west into the mountains or east away from the cliffs. He knew that they would find out soon, for already the hills were getting nearer and nearer with every hour.
As the sun reached its zenith they stopped for food. Biscuit again. He heard a few of the creatures grumbling as the biscuits were handed around, and although he could not understand their language he knew exactly what they were saying. Biscuits two days on the run was hardly a treat to look forward to, he surmised, but as before he was surprised to find himself sufficiently full after eating it.
Soon they were off again and their pace seemed to quicken a little, as if the mountains were drawing them onward. Now Paul could see the snow being tossed about the peaks by the wind, and so now he could see with his own eyes just how high the mountains actually were. Far above he saw birds swooping around the peaks and as he watched he realised they could only be eagles, though eagles much larger than he had ever seen before! There was a loud shout from one of the creatures as one of the eagles swooped down to take a closer look at the smaller creatures, and the third creature in the line pulled a bow from his back and notched an arrow, aiming at the bird as it approached.
“Verna apt Neh!” yelled the leader, who was suddenly beside the archer, and the leader knocked the arrow from the bow and then pushed the creature to the ground.
“Verna apt Neh!” he spat into the face of the sprawled archer and the creature looked apologetic before stowing his bow away and falling back into line. Paul recognised the errant creature as being the one who had attacked him on the beach, and as he slunk back into line he gave Paul a look of hatred, spilling onto the road before him as he did so. The eagle high above paid no attention at all and Paul watched as it suddenly soared away, all interest lost in them. For the rest of the day the commander led a fierce pace through the foothills of the mountains, almost as if his anger was driving him to march faster.
When the company stopped for the night to make camp therefore it was several minutes before the hunters of the group stood back up to search for food, though as before they returned quite quickly, bearing this time a small animal that Paul thought looked a lot like a small deer, and so they set about cooking it. As Paul expected this took longer to cook than a small rabbit and once again Paul was tied to a post, but when he did receive his food he was glad of it, for it was succulent and juicy. He ate the lot hungrily and then lay on his back staring at the stars again, awaiting his sleep that was surely soon to follow.
He drifted for a while and he was not sure if he had slept or not, lying out below the stars listening to the sound of an owl hooting from somewhere far away. He suddenly startled as he heard the sound from his dreams the night before. He opened his eyes, the mantle of stars glaring down from above. From nearby the camp fire flickered obscuring his view of above just a little. It definitely sounded like wind chimes!
He rolled onto his stomach and gazed off into the night. Nearby a large expanse of trees bordered the path, and although dark he could just make out their branches swaying slightly in the breeze. It was from that direction that the sound of the chimes seemed to be coming from and so slowly, looking to see if there was any movement in the camp he rose to his feet, unfurling the rope that was tied to his foot and the stake in the ground. Although there was the sound of snoring coming from nearby, nobody seemed to actually be awake, and so carefully leading the small length of rope behind him he edged away toward the trees, the sound of chimes rising louder as he did so.
The rope that he was tied to was not long, but it was long enough for him to walk a good ten feet away from the pole it was attached to. In the light from the fire he saw several of the white stones that had been placed around the camp at intervals of about four feet apart from each other. He thought about dragging the rope past them to head a little closer to the woods, but somehow he managed to stop himself. A sense of foreboding rose as he approached the rocks and he could not force himself to walk a single step further. Instead he stood gazing into the trees. He was startled to see a small blue light dancing amongst the branches.
The light glowed with a dull blue luminescence that nevertheless lit up the trees around it. It floated about three feet off the ground, hovering skittishly about the woodlands but slowly but surely edging almost nervously towards him. As it did so the sound of wind chimes increased softly; loud enough to catch his attention but not loud enough to wake any of the creatures who still lay snoring in the camp behind him.
It edged just to the edge of the woods and then suddenly stopped as if it was watching him. Suddenly the sound of wind chimes ceased and the silence of the night and the crackling fire came back to him,
“Who are you?” said a voice from the floating blue orb suddenly. It was like a whisper, but echoed almost in the deep of the night. Instantly the hairs on the back of Paul’s neck rose. This was not a friendly voice. It dropped with amusement and malice, but was tinged with incredible anger.
“Why are you here?” said the voice again, only louder. Paul took a step backwards and the shining blue orb of flight drew a little closer. “What are you looking for?” it said and this time the anger was unmistakable. Paul turned on his heels, tripping on the rope as he did so, sprawling on the ground. He grabbed at the grass and hauled himself to his feet, rushing back to the camp. He reached the pole he was tethered to and threw himself to the ground. He looked over his shoulder to see where the orb had gone.
Yet the night was dark and silent. The orb had vanished.
Chapter Six
At the Falls
As dawn broke Paul made himself busy awaiting his release from the pole he was tethered to and the removal of the strange white stones that surrounded the camp. Even the morning haze as the sun began to rise from behind the mountains gave a warmth that was unusual for early morning, though he was glad for it. After being untied from the pole and then having completed his morning ablutions and munched his way through yet another of the filling biscuits he kept himself busy around the camp, watching the creatures extinguishing the fires and making ready to leave.
He found himself dwelling upon the events of the previous night. The appearance of the orb seemed as unlikely as everything else that had happened to him so far and yet it had appeared very real indeed. He frowned as he wandered about the camp, lost in thought and direction.
Eventually he came across the cook who was just shouldering a pack from which hung a few small pans. The events of the night just gone made him feel a brief disquiet. The worst part was that he could not communicate with the creatures at all. IN a vain attempt to do so he made the wind chiming noise and held his hands in a ball, as if something was floating before him but the small creature just stared at him for a while and then burst into what only could be construed as laughter. Several of the other creatures called across to him too, obviously having watched him trying to communicate. He did not know what they said of course but it was fairly obvious from their gestures and body language that they thought that he was potentially losing his marbles.
“Blue orb.” said Paul to the cook, “Ching ka ching ka ching.” the creature raised a small eyebrow at him. “Wind chimes.” trailed off Paul, realising that he was obviously wasting his time. Suddenly the cook patted himself on the head and gave a broad green grin.
“Flip.” it said, patting its
head again, “Flip.” Paul just smiled. “Lost in translation.” he muttered under his breath, smiling. He was not sure himself whether he had been dreaming the night before. It was all very odd.
Realising that Paul wasn’t really paying attention to the mime now the cook sighed deeply and made off to join the line to depart the camp. Eventually the leader appeared and uttering what sounded by now to be either shouts of encouragement or warning the company departed the camp heading south once more along the path that headed around the mountain foothills.
The sun continued to rise as they headed south, Paul drinking in the sight of the snow-capped mountains and enjoying the rich loamy air that seemed to fill him with energy and vitality. However, as the morning wore on Paul became slowly aware of a deep almost rumbling noise rising from the south and as the miles vanished under their feet it became slowly louder and louder.
By what appeared to be around about noon they once again stepped off the road and sat about eating the biscuits and stretching their legs. Paul felt that he did this less and less every day, and although it had been but a short time since they had left the lighthouse behind them he thought that perhaps he was definitely becoming accustomed to the pace. When walking it was almost as if his feet caught the rhythm of a march and the miles passed quickly.
An hour before they stopped the path had suddenly veered west and then they had marched over a wide stone arched bridge that crossed a fast flowing river which thundered away through a deep gorge heading down through the hills to the north. The bridge was wide and well-built of stone, the arches rising from the fast flowing water below as if they had grown there somehow, and Paul marvelled at the bridge building skills of whoever had placed it there. Then the path turned south again, the stream now growing in intensity as it thundered past. Slowly the path had begun to rise as the river increased in intensity off to the east, the foaming, flecked water rushing rapidly through the valley in a deep groove no doubt formed by the waters passage.
After cresting a steep incline, they had come to a stop where they now sat, watching and listening to the water flowing past from a small ridge just off the path. The cook gratefully unshouldered his pack and settled down next to Paul.
“Uisgecop.” he said, pointing to the river. Paul raised an eyebrow and repeated this.
“Uisgecop?” asked Paul and the cook nodded.
“Uisgecop.” the creature nodded and Paul thought perhaps this was the name of this place and smiled. The cook did also.
Shortly after they rose to their feet again and falling into line they were soon off again. Above them the path wound around a small copse of trees and now Paul could see that ahead the path climbed even steeper overhead. The roaring of the water had increased in volume too, but it was only when they rounded the last incline that Paul could see where all the noise was coming from.
Rising high above them and directly in front of the path but a mere hundred yards or so away the path seemed to lead into a huge waterfall that hung above their heads. The path seemed to disappear directly into the huge body of water that was cascading down the waterfall from high above. The air was redolent; tinted with the smell of moss and water gouged earth, the sound of the water punishing. Paul looked up towards the falls and reckoned it to be at least one hundred feet high. The creatures slowed their pace as they approached, for the path was now becoming wet with the spray generated by the pounding water that was constantly plummeting down the cliff into the gulley below. As the sun angled overhead and caught the mist of water a small rainbow formed in the air, striking out across the gorge and disappearing into the trees on the other side of the wide river.
“Uisgecop.” muttered Paul under his breath as he saw the path, and the small band of creature’s head directly into the waterfalls plunging down ahead of them. As they reached the wall of thundering water however Paul saw that he was mistaken. The path actually veered suddenly to their right before heading behind the curtain of water falling from above. As he entered the line of creatures was already ahead of him and therefore behind the water. Although it was not as light or as cool up against the rock face, it was not unpleasantly so. The noise of the water falling from above however was deafening.
He saw the leader ahead in the half-light wave an arm towards the cliff face and Paul was surprised to see that the path began to climb almost like a ladder up the rock. Slowly the creatures one by one followed and began to climb up the cliff. It was not like rock climbing Paul thought, but nor was it like walking either. Stones and rocks were used to haul up the path almost rock to rock and progress was slow but demanding. Added to this the rock was slippery and in places moss covered. Paul slipped once or twice but was immediately pushed back into place by the small cook who was following him up the cliff with almost effortless strength.
Slowly the path turned and twisted up the cliff until Paul saw light further up ahead and as they reached it he could see that they were now at the top of the cliff. Sunshine shone down once again almost as if trying to dry the water of the falls from them. Paul found himself blinking in the sunlight as they walked along the cliff top, the river to their right now and the falls behind them, thundering down into the valley below. The path here however was much thinner yet it was flat even though it strayed perilously close to the river that almost run to the waterfalls edge before plunging down into the gully below.
The top of the cliff gave Paul an excellent view of where they were headed. From where they now stood the river continued to the south, the mountains still dominating the skyline to the west. To the east a wide valley of rolling hills continued off as far as he could see. Several clouds floated high above but they were few and the sky was a dark blue. It was almost breath-taking, and yet as always Paul felt detached from it all somehow, as if this was not meant to be something that he could enjoy; that he would allow himself to be enthralled by. Shaking his head, he continued along the slippery path, the river now gouging into the ground as it rushed by to his left, the water crested and rushing rapidly past.
There was small step in the path ahead and Paul went to take it in his stride and his height helped him, striding over the ledge easily. He turned to the cook behind him but as he did so he saw the small creature misjudge the height of the ridge and as he did so he slipped slightly towards the river bank. Paul reached out to grab the cook but he was not quick enough. A stark look of panic crossed the creatures face, his long green ears twitching. With a slight scream the creature tumbled down the bank and tumbled into the raging river.
The reaction from the other creatures was instant. Immediately they rushed back from the head of the line to try and get the cook out of the water, but now the current was too strong and the cook was already too far away. Now the river had him. The water’s speed was frightening to see, the shouting form of the small cook bobbing about in the water as he plunged downriver towards the cliff and the falls. Paul knew it was not an option for any of them to enter the water. It was flowing far too quickly, and any who dared to enter the river would be lost too.
He raced along the river bank, his height giving him an advantage over the creatures who although they moved fast were not as fast as he was once he had broken into a run. Paul scanned the bank ahead, looking for any outcrop or tree that he could use to his advantage to try and grab the creature, but there was nothing. Screams of fear rose from the cook now as the waterfall neared, and the water gathered pace. Paul suddenly skidded to a halt as he reached the end of the path and the lip of the waterfall. He cried loudly to the cook in the water but he was out of reach. A vicious furl of water caught him, spinning him round and then with a loud scream the cook reached the lip of the waterfall and then he was gone, plunging over the edge and down into the thundering water below.
The creatures reached Paul now, their voices loud and urgent, but there was also the sound of helplessness in their strange guttural speech. The figure of the cook plunged down the cliff and into the churning water below and then was gone. Paul did n
ot hesitate. He was a strong swimmer, and although he was not used to diving, it was hardly a major decision. After all, he reasoned to himself, this whole place must be an illusion of some sort. So where was the harm? Noting roughly where the creature had hit the water Paul threw himself to the floor and removing his boots and socks also threw off his waterproof and shirt. The other creatures looked at him incredulously, as standing he noted once again where the creature had hit the water below, and holding his arms out in a classic diver’s stance he leapt forward and plunged down over the cliff and into the water below.
The feeling of falling was disturbing enough. He was helpless, yet he managed to stay away from the sharp rocks of the cliff and so plunged down straight into the river filled gulley below where the water rushed and crashed against the river banks.
The water hit him like a hammer.
A sensation of cold seemed to permeate his skin to the very core and then the current took him and he felt himself flung through the water against the rocks. The water pounding at his body certainly seemed real! He desperately tried to reach the surface but he was at the mercy of the falls and found himself sucked further down, deeper into the swirling currents. He was thrown against another rock and he kicked desperately as the air from his lungs was battered from him. Yet somehow he managed to move slightly out of the current and flailing his limbs he rose gasping into the air, flung along at speed through the gulley. He filled his lungs, shouting rising from somewhere near as he thought he saw several of the other creatures obviously having descended the waterfall cliffs by the path racing along the banks, several of them pointing wildly ahead of here he floundered. He spun in the direction they were pointing and shouting to him and saw what may be the body of the cook being dragged further downriver, his unmoving form spinning and turning at the will of the water.
Into the Light- Lost in Translation Page 7