A wave of emotion swept her listeners, a wave of agreement that rippled their bodies in unison as a field of grass is moved by the wind. They were of a single mind.
“Now we will rest, for there will be much to be done upon arrival. Elem will need aid with this uruketo, so all with skills or the desire to assist should go to her and sign readiness and cooperation. The rest of us will compose our thoughts and prepare for that which is to come.”
Ambalasi, as befitted her age, lay dormant for the greater part of the voyage, though she was the only one. For the Daughters of Life the situation was too novel, too exciting, since for the first time they were in a majority and not being persecuted or derided. They could speak openly of their beliefs, discuss them and seek guidance from those, like Enge, whose clarity of thought they appreciated. While the passing of each day brought them closer to the shining reality of their new existence.
As she had instructed, Ambalasi was not disturbed until they entered the current that carried them away from the route that would have taken them past Maninle and Alakas-aksehent to the mainland of Gendasi. After drinking cool water and eating some meat, she rose and climbed slowly up to the summit of the uruketo’s fin. Elem and Enge were waiting for her there and signed respected greetings.
“Warm,” Ambalasi said, her eyes closing to vertical slits in the bright sunlight, signing modifers of pleasure and comfort.
“We are here,” Elem said, indicating their position on the chart with one thumb. “The waters are rich with life and contain unknown fish of giant size.”
“Unknown to you perhaps, and others of limited knowledge, but the ocean keeps no secrets from me. Have you captured any of these unknown fish?”
“They are delicious.” Elem signed pleasure of eating. Ambalasi instantly signed displeasure-of-gluttony and primacy of knowledge.
“You think of your stomach first and your brains last,” Ambalasi said testily. “Before you consume all the scientific resources of this ocean have a specimen brought before me.”
It was indeed impressive, a transparent, smooth length fringed with green fins — that when stretched out proved to be as long as a Yilane is tall. Ambalasi took one look and expressed dislike-of-ignorance and superiority-of-knowledge.
“A fish indeed! Am I the only one with eyes to see, a brain to use? This is no more a fish than I am. It is an elver. And I see by the glaze in your eyes that the technical term is meaningless to you. Elvers are the larvae of eels — and I presume you know what eels are?”
“Very edible,” Enge said, knowing this would encourage the scientist to greater flights of insult which she obviously took great pleasure in.
“Edible! Again the processes of digestion not of cerebration! I find it hard to believe that we are of the same species. Once again I fill your empty brains with new information. Do you not realize that the largest elver known is no longer than the smallest nail on my foot? And you must know that mature eels grow to respectable — and I hurry to say it before you do — edible sizes.
Enge looked down at the slowly writhing elver and conveyed appreciation of information — and growing amazement as she spoke. “That will mean that the adult forms will be gigantic!”
“It does indeed. Which is further proof that an unknown land is out there — for eels of that size have been completely unknown — up until this moment.”
A few days later Ambalasi ordered that a sample of the seawater be brought to her. A Yilane climbed down from the fin to the uruketo’s broad back and dipped the transparent container into the waves that broke about her legs. Ambalasi raised it before her eyes, looked at it quizzically — then put it to her lips. Elem signed danger, knowing that the drinking of seawater could lead to dehydration and death.
“I am pleased at your concern,” Ambalasi said, “but it is misplaced. Taste for yourself.”
Elem hesitantly sipped from the container — then registered shock and surprise. Ambalasi agreed knowingly.
“Only a great river, greater than any we have ever known, could carry fresh water this far out to sea. I feel that we are on the edge of a mighty discovery.”
The next day they noted that sea birds were circling them in large numbers, sure evidence that they were close to land. Soon they saw floating vegetation in the water which was no longer as transparent and clear as it had been in midocean. Ambalasi took samples for examination before she made another of her positive statements.
“Suspended soil, bacterial life, egg cases, plankton, seeds. We are approaching an immense river that drains a vast area of an even larger continent. I predict, with some accuracy, that we are close to our destination, close to Ambalasokei.”
It rained for most of the next day, but stopped before evening. As the clouds cleared from the horizon ahead they witnessed a sunset of great majesty and color. As the uruketo surged over the long waves they glimpsed a dark line on the horizon below the flaming sky.
They slept that night, as Yilane always sleep, unmoving and deeply, but all were awake at the first light of dawn. Elem ordered many of them below for the crush on top of the fin was unbearable. Ambalasi took the front position, as was her due, as the land on the horizon grew, came closer. It eventually opened out to reveal a wealth of small islands.
“No river,” Elem said with movements of disappointment.
Incapable-of-comprehension Ambalasi signed with some vehemence. “Small rivers have large mouths. A river that drains a continent carries silt and forms a delta of many islands. Find one of the channels through those islands and you will find our river rightly enough. And on the banks of its rich waters we shall plant the seed of the city.”
“There is no slight doubt within me that Ambalasi is right, for she is never wrong,” Enge said. “Out there, coming close, is our destiny, the beginning of a new life for us all. The new land of Ambalasokei where our city will grow.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Angurpiamik nagsoqipadluinarpoq mungataq ingekaqaq.
To a Paramutan a fresh fish is as good as a quick screw any day.
In the end the decision was made. It took a long time for that is the Paramutan way. Endless conversation, interrupted only by quick mouthfuls of blubber and rotten meat, was the only manner in which to settle important matters. When the meat in one paukarut began to run out the conference was moved to another one. People came and went, some even fell asleep, and when they returned or woke up, they had to be told what had happened in the interim so even more discussion was needed.
Yet the decision had been made. Most of the ikkergaks would cross the ocean to catch ularuaq. But this was a long voyage and they would not be back until the end of autumn, might even have to wait until next spring, and food would be needed in the paukaruts before then. There were fish that could be found in the coastal waters here — so it was decided that one ikkergak would venture south to see what could be caught there, while at the same time it would carry the Erqigdlit visitors back to their own land. This was something new and exciting and all of the Paramutan wanted to go, but they also accepted the fact that Kalaleq would command the ikkergak since he was the one who had the foresight to bring the Erqigdlit here in the first place.
Once the decision had been made no time was wasted. The ice was beginning to break up as the sun warmed and the days grew longer. The summer would be short — then winter would be upon them once again. With almost unseemly haste, after the protracted deliberations, supplies were struggled out to the ikkergaks. They were stowed aboard and one by one, with much shouting and laughter — long faces and tears would guarantee bad luck on the voyage — the vessels got under way. Angajorqaq hid when their ikkergak was ready to leave, but
