Seven Tides

5 What is Lost, is Found

 With the sun just above the horizon, the heat of the day has already begun. Sweat glistens and drips off Sylva's brow and bare arms as he pulls on an oar. We are in the dinghy headed for the beach. The tide has gone out and we must grapple with the coral reef that now lies perilously close beneath our hull. A man in the front peers over the bow into the shallow depths, pointing to port and starboard as we weave our way through the menacing rocks. A random wave crosses the bow, sending salty spray over everyone. For one terrifying moment, the boat lugs to a stop as the hull grinds over coral. The men grunt, pushing down hard with the oars to lift us off the reef. The surge is swift, and soon we are running the dinghy up onto the sand.

A short distance ahead, lay the other dinghy beached near the camp. An unattended fire smolders nearby. The smell of wood smoke and roast venison wafts through the air. The aroma bites into my empty stomach. Silva hollers out greetings as we approach, but there is no answer and no sign of the men. Just behind the campsite, there is a pathway leading into the jungle. There are several bunches of bananas and other fruit stacked at the head of it. Voices grow louder from just inside the trees, and two crew, Dante and Rivaldo, emerge. They strut with great grins, shouting hello when they see us. They are carrying a small, freshly killed deer lashed to a pole in between them. They heave the limp animal into the boat next to another bloodied carcass.

"Where's the captain? He'll want to see this!" exclaims Dante.

"The captain stayed on the ship, hoping to learn more about the boy's origins." The sight of the dead deer somewhat stuns Silva. "Captain Cabral said, no guns."

"And not a single shot fired, Mr. Silva," Dante boasts.

"They're like sheep," Rivaldo explains. "We just walk up and slit their throats."

"That's the truth," Dante adds, "I've seen nothing like it in my life."

Three more crew emerge from the trees with another deer, a river of red streaming from its throat. Silva stares slack-jawed as they drop it by the fire.

"Incredible!" — he says, shaking his head —"And what about Gabriel? What have you discovered since last night?"

Rivaldo and Dante look at each other uncomfortably. "Well...not much." Dante responds. "The night was quiet, no birds, no monkeys, nothing but the sound of the waves and the wind. It was pitch black with no moon; we thought it best not to venture too far from the campsite."

"Yes," Rivaldo adds, "we didn't want to chance running into some wild animal in the dark."

"And what about this morning? Where did you search?"

"We started looking for him and then we saw these deer and, well... It's been a long time since we've had fresh meat."

Silva stares menacingly at the five men lined up along the side of the dinghy, "The captain said we are to search for an hour," he simply states, "and then we sail north, with or without him. If it is without him, the five of you will explain to the captain why that is so."

The captain's decision to limit the search fuels his frustration with the men's lack of concern for a fellow mate, but he must also realize that it has been a full night since Gabriel's disappearance. There are no clues on the beach and the tide has washed away any footprints there might have been.

"Spread out and search the trails from the beach to the ridge and then along the ridge," he snaps, "and be quick about it."

The jungle provides little more evidence. There are just too many crossing trails that travel far beyond this beach. We climb up to the hidden alcove where we first found the boy. Nothing has changed there since last night. The palm fronds and dirt still blanket the floor. Kicking aside some of the debris, the outline of an animal etched into the floor draws Sylva's attention. Other pictographs of animals and people appear beneath the leaves. Swept clean, the floor becomes a mural of strange symbols and pictographs. One drawing is identical to the tattoo of the tree on the boy's back. Deer, like the ones in the jungle, lie resting beneath the tree, and an unusually tall, thin man stands beside them. In another, several people gather in a room with a pedestal at the center. They are holding their hands up as if in prayer. One man is touching a symbol on the pedestal. Several strange symbols arranged in a column above the pedestal, seem to float in mid-air. The symbols are unlike any of the runes found in nordic settlements.