Transplant

by D. B. Reynolds-Moreton

  Arki reasoned there must be a draft which sucked the smoke to some outlet which they couldn’t find and had to leave it at that, much to his disappointment.

  Early next morning the group set off along the top of the ridge, following the stream towards its possible source, thus maintaining a supply of drinking water while trying to locate the edge of the forest so that they could turn south again.

  It was two tiring days later, after leaving the ridge and travelling over a smooth rising plain of gravel which ended in a rocky ridge, that they were confronted by a view which brought a gasp from one and all, and they saw the next barrier in their progress south.

  Ahead of them a vast expanse of water slowly drifted by. For as far as they could see, they were surrounded by forests on all sides except the one they had come from, and with the river dividing the land in two in a north south direction.

  ‘We can’t go back now.’ Arki quietly said in an aside to Glyn, who was looking as shattered at the prospect of returning as Arki sounded.

  ‘I know, but what can we do? There’s no way around the forest, you can see it covering the hills right into the far distance on either side of this plain, and even if we could swim the river, which I very much doubt, we would only have more forest on the other side. It comes right down to the water’s edge over there as it does here.’

  They went down the gravel slope to the water’s edge and made camp, although there was plenty of daylight left, they had nowhere to go.

  ‘We’ve got to do something, so let’s make up a small team and go see what the forest has to offer, it may not be as thick as it looks, and in that case we could go along almost at the water’s edge perhaps.’ Arki wasn’t one for standing still. ‘Good idea,’ said Glyn, ‘we’ll stock up on fruit and berries at the same time, there can’t be much left to eat except the concentrates.’

  Six volunteers jauntily set off south, heading for the forest’s edge in a business like manner, mainly to show those remaining that all was under control and partly to convince themselves that it was so.

  The first few low bushes were a welcome sight, for many bore the black berries they had all enjoyed earlier, but it was obvious there was no possibility of travelling through the forest for any great distance, as the density of the undergrowth increased as they went further in.

  ‘How come we have all this undergrowth here, when there wasn’t any in the other forest where we got the apples?’ Glyn asked Arki as they struggled to break through the mat of vines which hung down from the trees.

  ‘Different conditions, I would think.’ he replied, hoping that Glyn wouldn’t ask him to expand on the matter as he couldn’t see what the different conditions were.

  ‘Well at least we have food here, and there are some new varieties to try by the look of it.’ Glyn was looking up at a large plum like fruit, tantalizingly just out of his reach.

  They turned left, hoping to reach the water’s edge to see if progress would be any easier there, when the first of the dead trees came into sight. It seemed dead, as there were no green leaves on it, and the wood had a hollow ring to it when struck.

  ‘If we had enough of these we could make a floating platform and drift south, as that’s the direction the river is going in.’ Arki observed. ‘How could we hold them together?’ asked Glyn, a faint ray of hope beginning to dawn.

  ‘Use these creepers, they seem tough enough.’ replied Arki, bending the thin end of one in his hands.

  They tramped on, or to be more accurate, forced their way through the least thick undergrowth they could find in the direction they wanted to go.

  Before they reached the water’s edge, they came across several more fallen trees, and some dead but still standing.

  Arki had begun to count them up as they went along.

  Finally they broke out of the forest and nearly fell into the slow moving river, as there was hardly a dividing line between the two.

  ‘Right,’ said Glyn, having made his mind up as to what should happen next, ‘let’s collect as much fruit as we can and return to the others, then send another party out to collect some more.’

  When they got back, the next team of gatherers were sent out while the new blue plum fruit was tested for safety. As luck would have it, it passed with flying colours, being sweet and filling, and so providing plenty of energy and the feeling of a full stomach, which would be welcomed by everyone. A smaller yellow version of the plum fruit was also tried, but spat out by the tester as being disgusting, poisonous or not. Later that evening around the camp fire, Arki explained his theory of making a floating platform to take them south.

  Once the question of binding the logs together was explained, and the fact that one log would support two people in his estimation, there was little argument against the proposal, at least none which would hold up to close scrutiny.

  Next day the log hauling began. It wasn’t as difficult as they had first thought, as there were sixteen strong men and women in the group who applied themselves willingly to the task, and by nightfall, they had enough logs at the water’s edge to build a raft big enough to carry them all, and room to spare for their provisions.

  Early next morning the first log was rolled into the river, with a long vine attached to each end, the vines firmly attached to a stake driven into the shore.

  As more logs were added and lashed to the preceding ones, the anchor vines were paid out, so allowing the raft to grow and still remain under control.

  Arki realized that some form of protection from the sun would be a good idea, as a lot of light would be reflected off the water and sunburn could be a problem. Four uprights were driven into the raft and a simple framework constructed overhead so that it could be covered with broad leaves from the forest. Someone else suggested a side panel which could be moved to whichever side needed to be covered, completing the sun screening.

  That evening, as the sun was sinking in the West, the raft was finished off, a good stock of fruit and nuts collected, and everyone felt very pleased with themselves. One enterprising fellow had made a quantity of long pointed staves, ‘To fend off anything in the water which might take a fancy to us.’ Glyn praised his ingenuity and thoughtfulness, and the staves were safely lashed to one of the centre logs.

  Six long poles were cut for manoeuvring the raft in what they hoped would be shallow water, their intention being to drift along close to the edge of the river bank whenever possible, so that land could be reached in an emergency.

  Brendon had the bright idea of putting some flat slates on one end of the raft so that they could have a small fire if need be. Glyn couldn’t see why they would need a fire on the raft, but agreed to it as he didn’t want to dampen any other good ideas which might be forthcoming.

  That night they all ate and drank their fill around the biggest fire they had yet made, a few songs were sung, jokes were told by those of the company who usually kept their wit for berating the mechanical Chef, and a good time was had by all.

  Not everyone slept too well that night, whether it was the excitement of the journey planned for next day or an over indulgence in the new plum fruit, was anyone’s guess. Suffice it to say, there were a few bleary eyes next morning.

  A quick meal in the grey chill air of early dawn saw everyone ready for the great adventure, this was something totally new in their experience, and one or two had doubts about the safety of the whole idea at the last moment.

  But it was too late for doubts, Glyn was determined to go south, and the river was the only route available.

  Everything was loaded onto the raft and lashed down with thin vines, the food stocks being piled up under the covered section along with the survival packs.

  Glyn gave the word and they all clambered aboard, the raft dipping a little as the weight of the group concentrated on the front end.

  ‘Spread yourselves around a bit,’ he called out, ‘we don’t want to tip the whole thing up.’ He needn’t have worried, the raft would have taken twice their num
ber and still floated, Arki had got his calculations wrong, luckily in their favour.

  The tethering vines were released from the staves they had driven into the river bank, but the raft refused to move. They tried pushing with the poles, but to no avail, until someone realized the extra weight of the passengers had driven the rear end of the raft into the soft sand.

  ‘OK, everyone up to the front end.’ called Arki. Someone mumbled ‘That’s where we were in the first place,’ and the raft floated free, turning down river as the strong current caught the front end.

  ‘Use the poles to try and keep the raft just a few metres from the bank,’ Glyn called out as they gathered speed, ‘we don’t know how deep it is further out, and we may lose control.’

  By full sun-up they had drifted a considerable distance downstream, the river banks ever changing their contours, with small inlets where other streams joined the mighty flow.

  The forest came right down to the water’s edge in most places, and Glyn then knew that the river really was the only way open to them for southerly travel.

  When the sun had reached its zenith, he calculated they were still heading south, the waterway holding a straight line through the landscape. But it was getting wider, and that could mean that it was also getting shallow, and the raft might get stuck on a ridge in the river bed.

  ‘Two volunteers please, one each side of the front end. Mark a pole by scratching the bark off at about two metres from the end, and check the depth as we go along. If it is less than your mark, pole the raft out into the middle until you get the two metre level again.’ Glyn was taking no chances of floundering on some vagrant mud bank, as the chances of getting it off again didn’t bear thinking about.

  Towards late afternoon, Arki noticed that raft travel was beginning to lose some of its novelty for those with nothing to do, as volunteers for the depth gauging at the front end were getting ever more persistent that it was their turn to take the poles.

  A quiet word with Glyn, and it was decided to pull in at the next suitable place on the river bank for the night. They would need to replenish their food supplies and find fresh water from a stream, as the river water was a little murky and would only be used as a last resort. A deep inlet with a shingle bank caught Arki’s eye, and the raft was turned in towards it using the poles.

  The weight of the floating platform drove it some way up the gently sloping shingle bank, the clatter and rattle of the stones adding a welcome noise to the silence they had experienced all day, apart from their own voices and the constant lapping of the wavelets as they caressed the raft.

  The mooring vines were made fast, holding the raft safely in place on the stony beach, and everyone enjoyed the freedom of stretching their legs, the younger ones racing up and down the shingle bank and shouting with joy.

  The group split up, some gathering wood for the evening fire, others going into the nearby forest for fruit, while two men went up the little stream which had threaded its way through the stone mounds to join the river.

  The sun dipped towards the far horizon, lighting up the forest in a pink glow and the fire was crackling away merrily, adding its warmth to the sudden chill air which had swept up the river and into the inlet.

  All had returned from their foraging and were waiting for the evening meal, except for two who had gone up the stream, and Glyn was beginning to get a little worried at their absence.

  ‘Better go see what’s happened to them.’ He said to no one in particular, when they came racing over the shingle bank amid a clatter of stones and in great excitement.

  ‘Look what we’ve found.’ said one, holding up a piece of shiny metal. It was about half a metre long, fifteen centimetres wide and two thick, and the reddening sunlight sparkled from it as he waved it about.

  Everyone crowded around to see the artefact from a long bygone age, speculating as to what it might have been, and wanting to hold it as if doing so would connect them to those who had gone before.

  ‘It would make a great cutting tool if we could only thin one edge down a bit, and sharpen it.’ Arki said, visualizing a powerful hacking blade.

  ‘I seem to remember,’ he added, ‘something about heating metal to reform it, read it in one of the old books.’

  ‘What’s a book?’ someone asked, but no one bothered to enlighten him.

  ‘We have fire, but I don’t know if it would be hot enough to soften the metal, it must be very strong not to have corroded away after all this time,’ Glyn said, ‘but we could try, we’ve nothing to lose except a little time, and we’ve plenty of that.’

  It was jointly decided that next day they would make a big fire and try to reform the strip of metal into a cutting tool, grinding the edge sharp on a stone.

  No new fruits had been discovered by the foraging party in the forest, but a plentiful supply of those they had eaten before were collected. Glyn was keen to see if their digestive systems would tolerate a fruit and nut diet without the emergency rations, as these were going down at an alarming rate, so he suggested that they try it for one meal.

  By next morning only two people complained of an emergency visit to the bushes during the night, but couldn’t be sure that the fruit diet was totally responsible.

  Brendon suggested a chimney be constructed to increase the draw on the fire, but when asked how that would work he didn’t know, and looked sufficiently crestfallen at the query for Glyn to give the go ahead and build one.

  It was only a metre and a half high, and constructed of rock brought from behind the pebble bank, but it certainly made a difference to the roar of the flames as they raced up the hollow space to belch forth in a fountain of smoke and sparks at the top.

  It took a moment for Arki to realize that the embers at the bottom of the fire were the hottest part, and the stainless steel strip, not that they knew it as such, was then pushed into the glowing mass and soon began to glow bright red.

  Trial by Water

  Two pieces of wood which had been cut flat and wound with a thin vine loop around them, formed an insulating handle to grip the heated metal when they withdrew it from the fire, although the end soon charred into a black and smelly mess.

  The first few attempts at flattening the edge of the steel strip were a dismal failure, but persistent pounding with a large smooth stone and re-heating the steel paid off in the end, and Arki had the basic shape of his blade.

  Someone had thoughtfully shaped a wooden handle for the new edition to their armoury, being two carved pieces of wood which they could bind together around the blade with thin creeper strands. It now only remained to sharpen the edge, and a hunt for the right kind of stone was under way.

  Several different types of pebble were tried, and a fine grained flint like stone proved to be the best available. It was going to be a long and laborious job honing the edge, but Arki thought it would keep himself and several people occupied in turn on the next trip down river.

  That night they kept the fire going in the chimney and tried baking some of the nuts on the hot stones. This made them much more palatable, and soon the remaining stock of nuts had been cooked and put on one side for the next day.

  Baking the plum fruit didn’t work very well, the juice running down the side of the chimney had charred leaving a sharp burnt sugar smell in the air, and that was when they saw their first insect.

  The body was about fifteen centimetres long and thicker than a finger, two sets of translucent wings beat at such a high speed that they were almost invisible, filling the air with a deep humming noise as the creature darted about.

  It seemed harmless and a pretty thing as it hovered over the head of one and then another of the assembled group, the firelight reflecting off its almost invisible gossamer wings in a myriad of iridescent colours.

  Brendon thought the burning sugar from the plum fruit had attracted it to their fire, but the general consensus of opinion was the light from the fire itself had drawn it to them.

  After a while it flew away,
and they were sorry to see it go as it was the only pleasant living and moving thing they had seen since leaving the ship.

  They settled down for the night, and in the early hours of the morning something in the forest screeched in agony several times, and was then silent. Not many slept after that, and morning couldn’t come too soon.

  After a quick meal, the raft was loaded up and they set off down river again, the current pulling the loaded raft out towards the centre, so a lot of work with the poles was needed to keep the floating log mass close to the shore.

  Arki had begun to grind away the edge of his cutting blade, but it was very slow work and the blade had to be dipped frequently into the river, the water acting as a lubricant for the honing stone, but by keeping an eye out for the first signs of boredom among the travellers on the raft, he soon hoped to have some help with his blade forming.

  By midday Arki had persuaded two others to help him with the blade grinding, and it wasn’t long before they could see some reward for their hard work. The first few centimetres of the blade was now honed down to a fine edge, and Arki demonstrated its cutting effect by slashing at one of the logs, cutting a great chip out of the wet timber which then flew over the heads of the onlookers with a buzzing sound as it spun in the air.

  Once the object of the exercise was fully understood, Arki had many willing hands to help him with the blade, taking it in turns to grind away at the hard metal.

  Glyn checked their direction at midday by the sun and found that they were still going due south, and although many kilometres had been travelled there had been no bend in the river as yet which he would have expected considering the distance they had gone, and as far as he could see, it carried on straight to the horizon.

  ‘Recalling pictures from the old books, rivers twisted and turned all over the place,’ he said to Arki, ‘and even on the maps of the earth, they were never in straight lines like this one. Can you account for it?’