45 Back on the River

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Stephen Whiteside
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45 Back on the River

Post by Stephen Whiteside » Mon Nov 28, 2011 5:13 am

45 Back on the River

© Stephen Whiteside 28.11.2011

It was late afternoon when they awoke once more. They were by now much drier, but there was a definite chill in the air. Magnifico suggested they start looking for a place to turn in for the night, but Horatio was determined to get out of this creek and make contact with the main river before sundown.

First things first, though. They needed to find some way to control their little craft. They were never going to be able to control it completely, but they had to do better than what they had just done. They needed poles to push off obstacles, and paddles for deep water. Sticks. Sticks were the answer. Short sticks. Long sticks. Skinny sticks. Fat sticks.

So they hunted around for a while until they had a good collection. In fact, they had too many, so they discarded quite a few, heaped the remainder in the middle of the raft and, using their teeth once more, pulled the raft back into the water.

They did not want a repeat of the first launch debacle so, while the raft was still only partially afloat, they climbed onto it. Of course, the weight of the two of them changed everything, and the raft became stuck in the mud again. Horatio jumped off but, now that they were on the edge of the water, the mud was very soft, and he sank into it up to his belly! Clearly, this whole raft caper had whiskers on it!

Nevertheless, he heaved himself back on board, and this time they both poled off successfully back into the middle of the stream. Once again, Horatio, shivered. All the good work of the lie in the sun had been undone in a moment. What is more, the sun was now very low in the sky, and the shafts of sunlight appeared to come horizontally through the trees.

Otherwise, though, all was well. They had resumed their usual slow spin in the middle of the creek. They found this especially irritating, and began to experiment with their ‘paddle’ sticks to try to arrest it, and stay pointed downstream. Being rounded, of course, the sticks did not really make very good paddles. It was too easy for the water to simply rush around them. They were definitely better than nothing, though, and with Horatio frantically paddling in one direction and Magnifico on the other side of the raft frantically paddling in the other direction they did, in fact, eventually, manage to stop the raft from spinning. It was a great moment. They did have some control after all!

The raft now moved through a patch of thick vegetation. It enclosed the creek like a long dark tunnel, and all but shut out the sun completely. It was here that they both reflected on Horatio’s decision to press on. Would it be night time by the time they emerged from the other end? How would they be able to paddle in the darkness? How could they make a landfall? Magnifico said nothing, though. There was nothing to be done, and complaints would be futile - counterproductive, even.

Much to their relief, the vegetation gave way to feeble sun-light once more. What is more, a short distance more, a brief bend, and they were in the river once more! Horatio felt elated. And vindicated. Magnifico, too, felt relieved.

It was a grand sweep of water. The river had widened considerably since first they had joined it. This was a mighty journey they had embarked upon, and both felt it keenly. The river was like a world to unto itself. Whole lives were lived by this river. It supplied all. Water. Food. Shelter. And it constantly replenished itself. It was a marvel. An absolute marvel.

Horatio and Magnifico immediately began in the fading light to search for a spot to land the raft. Of course, with their silly little paddles, it wasn’t that easy. First they worked to get closer to the bank. But the current continued to sweep them on, and there was every chance it would take them past any place they had chosen. Nevertheless, a wonderful thing happened. The closer they arrived to the shore, the weaker the current became. They were learning one of the first rules of river travel.

At last they found a good spot - a shelving beach of mud surrounded by plenty of vegetation. Horatio and Magnifico paddled furiously together, and soon felt the immense satisfaction of guiding their little craft onto dry land. With a slight bump, the raft stopped against the mud. They tossed their sticks into the middle of the raft, jumped over the side, and started pulling.

Soon the raft was high and dry, and they were safely ensconced in a short tunnel they had quickly dug beside the roots of a tall tree. Their bellies were full as they had feasted on the remains of a dead parrot they found nearby. Horatio and Magnifico were starting to get the hang of this river life. Was it their own experience coming into play, or was it the spirit of Dulcie?

What a day it had been! Could it really have been just that morning that Dulcie had died? It seemed like a lifetime away. Both soon fell into a heavy slumber, and their dreams were sweet.
Stephen Whiteside, Australian Poet and Writer
http://www.stephenwhiteside.com.au

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