CHAPTER 47

Monday, July 4, 1527

I feel so guilty. I have not written in my journal for a long time. I will blame it on needing to spare the parchment. The Waitaha do not have parchment, for they need it not. The language is not written. There are some caverns with rock drawings though. But these are not near the village.

Three months ago, in April, Tane gave me consent to marry Hine. The ceremony took place the very next day. A good thing it was too, because we now see that Hine is pregnant. Probably from before the marriage. Such things would not look good.

A house has been built for us. We have moved into our own first home. My first ever real home of my own. We have settled here now. Maybe in a few years we will try for a voyage to Spain, but many of the men would not be likely to come. They will, however, readily come with me to explore this land. We will depart the day after tomorrow. The San Lesmes has been relaunched and is anchored just offshore from the village. We are using the canoes to replenish her holds and are readying ourselves for a voyage of several months. Our excess stores and valuables have a safe-hold in a cave on the cliff-side above the western end of the beach. In this cave, I have also prepared safe-keeping for my journal. This original volume shall be stored there during our explorations and I will fill in details of our journey on my return. Hine understands that I probably won’t be back until after the baby has come, but is happy for me to discover her land. She, of course, has seen little more of it than this valley. I hope to be able to bring back the village much information about the other tribes and animals that we find.

Friday, July 29, 1527

We departed the village, Whareakeake, with the sunrise and high-tide, heading east. The next bay was familiar to us already, from numerous excursions there, but the long beach beyond it was new. At the end of the beach we found an entrance to a long harbour. This would make a good and safe anchorage for the San Lesmes if we need one. Beyond the harbour, the coastline sinks south and then south-west hugging a fairly narrow peninsula that sits between the harbour and the sea. Some of the cliffs along here were quite dramatic. Penguins and seals in abundance are to be found. Also, we have sighted many whales and dolphins the last few days.

About 40 leagues beyond the harbour, we came around to the west, bringing us to a north-westerly bearing. Again, about 40 leagues of sailing took us to our next major course change. We are now on a north-easterly bearing and have been so for several days. Are we rounding a large peninsula on the edge of the great continent? It seems unlikely. Hine said the stories of her people say the land they live on is three large islands.

The coast here is backed by massive mountains. Rivers of ice, glaciers like those in Terra del Fuego reach down to the sea here too. The entire coastline is covered in beautiful forests that are drawing in a driving rain that we have fought with since yesterday. The seas here are also much choppier and hide sharp rocks closer in to the shore. We are staying as wide as possible and will look for an anchorage when we come to more friendly places.

CHAPTER 48

Matt stood on the small flat area of ground in front of the cave, the fall down to the sea just over a metre away from him, the cave about three metres behind. The jar was tucked under his left arm, the paper and the cloth pouch in his right hand. Aimee had retrieved the torch. Matt panted as he caught his breath. He had run out of the cave in a furious mood when he saw what the jar contained, and probably would have gone off the edge if it wasn’t for Aimee grabbing him before he reached it. He had momentarily forgotten how high up they were. As it came back to him, his frustration subsided as it mixed with fear. Fear of losing his reputation, blended with a handful of fear of falling to his certain death, or even worse, a serious injury. At least you don’t have to live with shame when you’re dead.

‘What’s in the jar, Matt?’ Aimee pleaded in his left ear. He turned to see her standing a breath away, looking between the jar and his face with imploring eyes.

Matt turned to face the cave, rather than the cliff edge, and sat down. Aimee sat beside him, facing the path that had brought them up here. He unfolded the piece of paper and read.

‘This jar was found on the 16th day of August in the year 1901 by myself and a travelling companion. The contents of the jar, a journal of a sea-farer, has been removed and will be returned to my place of study for proper archival and conservation. It is fortuitous this artefact has survived thus far. The papers are remarkably well intact considering the exposure to elements they could have received over the years. It is paramount that they are no longer exposed to such conditions and a full study of their content should be undertaken.’

‘You’re kidding me? After all that running around. Has he at least left his name?’ Aimee asked.

‘Yes,’ Matt said, with a slight smile as he read the home location of the author. ‘He signed it; Holger Kirstein, Switzerland.’

As he finished reading, he folded the piece of paper and carefully placed it in his pocket. Aimee said nothing, but she didn’t need to. Matt could see that she too was disappointed. They had come a long way to only have to start again in another country. And what were the chances of them finding the contents of the jar in Switzerland? If they had even made it there. Surely they would have been made public by now — at least if they had any worth whatsoever.

Hemi parked the car next to Matthew’s at the base of the rugged track to Murdering Beach and climbed out to join Warren. As they walked across the bay towards the cliffs on the other side, he scanned the hillsides and cliff-tops that surrounded them. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just grass, trees, a couple of straggling sheep and sky. They rounded the cabin and found a freshly walked-on path that led up to the cliff-side.

‘I think they’re up here,’ Warren said.

‘Looks that way. After you.’ Hemi waved his hand to show that Warren should lead the way. Thankfully, he did.

Well, Hemi, this is it. If there was ever a chance for Warren to do something stupid enough to give you reason to take him down, this is that chance.

Hemi let Warren get in front of him a few paces, and then followed. His eyes scanned every which way they could. He prayed, for the first time in years. What if his backup didn’t make it in time, if there were no witnesses? If something happened to Matthew Cameron or Aimee Kingsbridge, Hemi would never forgive himself. The rest of his life and the memory of his father hinged on the next few minutes. For the first time he could recall, Hemi felt the stress of the moment.

Matt rose to a standing position in a motion resembling a Jack-in-the-box after a good, solid, winding. Aimee followed suit but looked at him in confusion.

‘I saw something moving,’ Matt said.

‘Oh?’

Aimee turned and followed Matt’s gaze down the path.

They were both surprised to see two figures emerging into view as they climbed the path, one following the other. As they got closer, Matt recognised the leader.

‘Warren!’ he said, turning to Aimee. ‘This is great, Warren can help us for sure.’

Aimee said nothing. She just looked confused.

‘Who’s he with?’ Matt asked.

‘Can’t see yet.’

They stood silently as they waited for them to get closer. As they did, the person at the back came into view as well.

‘It’s Drew,’ Aimee said. ‘Must be a good guy after all if he’s with your friend.’

‘Sure,’ Matt said, now also a little confused. How did Warren know where they were today? Matt hadn’t called

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