The Kin (34 page)

It was Kern's voice. Ko forgot about the thornfruit and scampered along to see what was up. He found the men looking at one of the patches of open ground that ran right down to the water's edge. Kern was kneeling and pointing at what he'd seen.

“These tracks are old, old,” he was saying. “Two moons? Three? I do not know. See, five deer come. Two are young. They are slow, careful. And see there, they run, four only. One is young. They run fast, fast. Now see here …”

He moved nearer to the water and pointed at an area where the two lines of hoofprints suddenly disappeared, as if a huge fist had been rubbed over the place, wiping them out. Kern pointed at a pattern of dimples amid the mess, and with his forefinger outlined the shape of a large round foot with four spread toes.

“Crocodile,” he said. “Big, big. Deer go to drink. Crocodile comes from the water. It takes one deer, a young one. See, it drags it …”

He pointed to a groove in the earth, running all the way down to the water. Everyone gazed out over the peaceful surface. Ko saw Yova stiffen, then slowly raise her hand and point.

“See, by the reeds,” she said quietly. “Eight paces from the edge. It watches.”

Ko stared, trying to see what Yova had noticed. There was a stand of tall green reeds close to the shore. He looked along its edge. How far was eight paces …? Yes! There! Where that reed had twitched with nothing to stir it! Light ripples were spreading away from a small patch of what looked like floating mud and reed leaf that was drifting very gently towards the shore.

In an instant, with a thud of the heart, Ko's way of seeing it changed, so that it wasn't a patch of mud but the very top of a crocodile's head. The slight mound at the near end was the nostrils, and the one at the back was the eye ridge. Ko could see the glisten of a watching eye.

He shuddered and drew back. He wasn't the only one, in fact most were already moving when the crocodile attacked.

It burst out in a sudden violent surge, its tail lashing the water to foam, and rushed towards them. They fled, scattering right and left. Ko risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that the crocodile wasn't pursuing them, but had halted just about where they'd been standing. He stopped and turned, waiting to see what it would do next. He was sure it was the one they'd seen last night—there couldn't be two that huge. The people were scattered up the slope, some still running, others, like Ko, standing to watch, but all tense and ready to run again.

The crocodile rested only a moment or two before starting another charge, hummocking its body up and driving itself forward with its stubby back legs. Again everyone scattered. This time when Ko glanced back the monster was still pursuing, and gaining on him. With horror he realized that it was actually faster than he was. Desperately he raced on and only stopped when he saw Chogi, just ahead of him, look back, and halt and turn.

He turned and stood, with his heart pounding. The crocodile had stopped again, halfway up from the inlet. As he watched it raised its head and gave a deep, thundering roar, unlike any animal Ko had ever heard.

Net answered with a shout, dashed forward and flung his digging stick. It was a well aimed shot, but the stick bounced off the animal's hide like a twig. It swung round and lurched towards Net, forcing him back. Others copied him, still not doing any harm, but after a while the crocodile seemed to realize it wasn't going to catch anyone this time. It turned, dragged itself back into the water, and disappeared. A little later they saw it climb out onto a small island and settle down to bask.

The adults discussed the problem during their midday rest. Normally Ko didn't listen to this kind of talk—it was adult stuff—but the crocodile had really scared him and he wanted to know what they were going to do about it.

“Var is right,” said Kern. “This crocodile eats all the deer. It eats the swimming birds. They are afraid. They do not come.”

The others grunted agreement and sat in gloomy silence.

“We see only one crocodile,” said Chogi. “Are there others in this place?”

The men discussed the question among themselves, and agreed that there was probably only this one monster in the inlet. Either it had eaten any smaller ones, or it had driven them away.

“Then I say this,” said Chogi. “We are weak. We are tired. Bodu must have food. No food, her baby dies. Soon Noli's baby is born—five days, ten, I do not know. Noli must have food. Then she is strong, her baby is strong. Here is food. Here is good water. The crocodile is dangerous, dangerous. But we watch all the time. We see it—it is in one place. We go to another place. It does not catch us. I, Chogi, say this is best.”

“Do the men kill the crocodile?” asked Bodu.

“Bodu, this is difficult,” said Tun. “The crocodile is strong, strong. It is in the water. We cannot hunt it. Its skin is thick. Our digging sticks do not hurt it.”

“Tun, you are right,” said Chogi. “You hunt it, then perhaps men die. You are few. This is not good.”

Everyone muttered agreement, and they settled down to discussing the precautions they must take against the crocodile.

Soon after they moved on, they reached the head of the inlet. Surprisingly there was no river feeding it, not even a dry riverbed. The water seemed to well up from below.

On the far side rose a range of low hills, burnt just as dry as everywhere else.

In the afternoon they explored along the further shore of the inlet, keeping well clear of the water. This meant there were promising-looking areas they couldn't safely reach, but they found enough to eat elsewhere.

That evening, to get away from the insects, they moved up into the hills and found a good place for a camp among some large boulders near a grove of dead trees. They could see down to the inlet, but the main marsh was just out of sight behind a low ridge.

When they settled round their fire, Ko didn't sit with Noli and the others. Instead, he found a place where he could hear the men talk, in case they said anything about the crocodile. All day, off and on, he had been thinking about the monster, and remembering the horrible moment when he'd been running away from its charge, and had looked back and seen that it was gaining on him. Perhaps, after all, they'd think of a way of killing it. They were strong and brave, especially Suth. Ko was sure they could do it, somehow.

But to his disappointment they spent the evening discussing what they'd do with their time until Noli's baby was born. There wasn't anything to hunt here, and the women and children could forage for everyone. So the men decided that in a day or two some of them would explore further westward along the marsh, while others would head inland to the salt pan Yova had found—less than a day's journey from here, they thought—and bring back fresh supplies of salt.

At least that let Ko lie down to sleep that night, happy with the dream he'd had before, about how he would go off alone to the salt pan and bring back the wonderful white salt.

His waking dream turned into his sleeping dream, and that turned into a nightmare, a bad one. He was walking proudly along in the moonlight with a lump of glittering salt, as heavy as he could carry, but then it started to get smaller and dirtier, and the moon set, and there was nothing in his hands, but it was too dark to see where he'd dropped the salt—or put it down, he couldn't remember—but there was something near by in the dark—he could hear its snorting breath …

He started to run, but his feet were heavy as rocks and now he could hear and feel the deep thump of that hummocking charge …

He woke with his yell stuck in his throat. The thump was the slamming of his own heart. Every muscle was locked stiff. His arms and legs were like digging sticks. He couldn't move a finger …

Slowly the terror faded. His hands loosened, and then his limbs. Shuddering, he pushed himself up and looked around. There was a half moon high in the west, shining on the dark bodies sleeping quietly among the boulders. Stupid Ko. It hadn't been real, just a bad dream. It was all right.

As he was lying down again to try to get back to sleep, somebody stirred. Noli, only a couple of paces away. It was a sudden movement, as if she'd already been lying awake and had heard somebody whisper her name.

She sat straight up and seemed to stare directly at Ko. The moon shone full in her face. Her eyes were wide open, but they looked stony and dead in the moonlight.

Slowly she raised an arm, stretched out a finger and pointed at Ko. She spoke, not in her own voice, but in a soft, deep whisper, the voice of Moonhawk.

“Kill the crocodile.”

Oldtale

TWOHEADS

Tov journeyed to Tarutu Rock. There he drank at the dewtrap and filled his gourd. Then he went west into the desert, into the Demon Places
.

The parrot went with him, perching on his head. All day it slept
.

Tov found no water. The sun was behind him, and over him, and shone in his eyes, and his gourd was empty. He came to Twoheads
.

Twoheads grew from the desert, as a tree grows, with roots that go deep, deep. He had arms but no legs. The parrot woke and saw him. It left Tov and flew to a rock
.

Tov said, “Do you have food? Do you have water? I see none.”

Twoheads answered, both mouths speaking together. “We have food. We have water.”

Tov said, “I am hungry. I am thirsty. My gourd is empty. Give me food and water.”

Twoheads said, “This is our place. We know no other. Our food and our water are beneath us, deep, deep. We do not give. We are Twoheads.”

Tov laughed
.

Twoheads said, “What is this noise?”

Tov said, “It is laughter. I laugh at your folly. I say in my heart, See this Twoheads. He has this one place. He knows no other. A stranger comes. He knows many places. He has many tales. Twoheads gives food and water. The stranger tells tales. He speaks of many places. They are happy together, Twoheads and the stranger. They laugh.”

Twoheads said, “We do not give. We do not laugh. We are Twoheads.”

Tov said, “Twoheads, hear me. I make you laugh. Then you give me food and water. I do not make you laugh, I go away. Is this good?”

Twoheads said, “This is good. We do not laugh.”

Tov said, “I tell you a tale of folly. There is a man. His name is Tov. He sees a woman. Her name is Gata. She is beautiful, beautiful. He goes to her father. He says, Give me Gata for my mate.”

Now the parrot flew softly from its rock and perched between the heads of Twoheads. Twoheads did not feel it. Tov continued the tale
.

“Gata's father says, First you bring me a gift. Bring me the tooth of Fododo, the Father of Snakes. Bring me the poison tooth. Tov answers, For Gata I do this thing … Was not this Tov a great fool?”

Now the parrot cried between the heads of Twoheads. Its cry was laughter. It flew away
.

The left head turned to the right head. It said, “You laughed.”

The right head answered, “It was you.”

They were angry. They fought. They bit and struck blows. The left hand struck the right head and the right hand struck the left head
.

Their blood flowed. It fell to the ground. Tov ran with his gourd and caught it as it fell. It was yellow, like honey, and sweet. It was food, it was water, as is the juice of stoneweed
.

Tov filled his gourd and went on his way. The parrot went with him
.

When it grew dark Tov said, “Parrot, this is a place of demons. One must watch all night. All day you slept on my head. Now I sleep and you watch
.”

He lay down and slept. In the dark the parrot was Falu. All night she watched
.

Tov woke in the dark. By starlight he saw the shape of one who watched. He said in his heart, This is Gata. He called her name
.

Falu answered, “Tov, you dream. Gata is far and far. Sleep.”

Tov slept. In the morning he woke. Falu was a parrot again
.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ko lay awake till dawn, miserable with fear. He was more afraid of the crocodile than he'd ever been of anything in his life. Everyone else was afraid of it too, even Tun and Suth, but to them it was just a big, dangerous animal. To Ko it was something else. He'd recognized it the moment he'd seen it. The crocodile was a demon. It was the thing in his nightmare, alive and real in the daytime world.

Who could he talk to about it? Who would understand, and not just try to comfort him by saying, “Don't be afraid, it isn't a real demon. It's only a nightmare”? Not even Suth, he felt. Noli, perhaps, and he could ask her too what she'd meant when she'd pointed at him like that. Or what Moonhawk had meant. If Noli remembered—she didn't always. Anyway, he'd ask her. At least she wouldn't laugh at him.

But when the others woke and started to get ready for the day, Noli was busy with Tor. Tor was worried about the Porcupines, whom they'd last seen when they'd separated onto opposite sides of the river. How were they doing? Had they also found food and water? If they hadn't, they'd all be dead by now. Because Tor and Noli couldn't talk to each other, they made up for it by spending much more time together than most pairs of mates did, sitting close and hugging and stroking each other. Noli seemed to understand what Tor was thinking, without any words, and she said he understood her the same way. Only it was all far slower than words, and much more to do with feelings and things like that.

Now she was trying to comfort him, and tell him she was sure his friends were all right, so Ko settled down a little way off and waited for them to finish. After a while Mana came and sat beside him and offered him a bit of roast blueroot left over from last night. He shook his head.

“Ko, you do not eat,” she said. “Why is this?”