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and Sebastian lifted himself on one elbow. In the flickering light from the fire there was a shadowy figure, crawling on hands and knees across the earthen floor, and searching the faces of the sleeping men.

"Manali, where are you?"

"Who is it?" Sebastian answered softly,

and the man jumped up and scurried to where he lay.

"It is I, Mohammed."

"Mohammed?" Sebastian was startled. "Why are you here?

You should be with Fini at the camp on the Abati." Fini is dead."

Mohammed's whisper was low with sorrow, so low that Sebastian thought he had misunderstood.

"What? What did you say?" Fini is dead. The Allemand came with the ropes. They hung him in the fever trees beside the Abati, and when he was dead they left him for the birds."

"What talk is this Sebastian demanded.

"it is true," mourned Mohammed. "I saw it, and when the

Allemand had gone, I cut the rope and brought him down.

I wrapped him in my own blanket and buried him in an ant-bear hole."

"Dead? Fly

"It is true, Manah." In the red glow of the camp-fire Mohammed's face was old and raddled and gaunt. He licked his lips. "There is more, Manali. There is more to tell." But Sebastian was not listening. He was trying to force his mind to accept the reality of Fly

It would not accept the picture of Fly

No! Fly

Vanali, hear me." Sebastian shook his head, bemused, denying it.

It could not be true.

"Manali, the Allemand, they have taken Little Long Hair. They have bound her with ropes and taken her." Sebastian winced, and jerked away as though he had been struck open-handed across the face.



"No!" He tried to close his mind against the words.

"They caught her this morning early as she went to Fini.

They took her down-river in the small boat, and she is now on the great ship of the Allemand." Blitcher? Rosa is aboard the Blitcher?"

"Yes. She is there."

"No. Oh, God, no!" In five hours Blitcher would blow up. In five hours Rosa Would die. Sebastian swung his head and looked out into the night, he looked through the open side of the hut, down the cha

the cha

"I must go to her," said Sebastian. "I ca

He threw aside his cloak.

"Mohammed, how did you come here? Did you bring the canoe? Where is it?" Mohammed shook-his head. "No. I swam. My cousin brought me close to the island in the canoe, but he has gone away. We could not leave the canoe here, lest the Askari find it. They would have seen the canoe."

"There isn't a boat on the island nothing," muttered

Sebastian. The Germans were careful to guard against desertion. Each night the labour force was marooned on the island and the Askari patrolled the mud banks.

"Mohammed, hear me now." Sebastian reached across and laid his hand on the old man's shoulder. "You are my friend. I thank you that you have come to tell me these things."

"You are going to Little Long

Hair?"

"Yes."

"Go in peace, Manali."

"Take my place here, Mohammed.

When the guards count tomorrow morning, you will stand for me."

Sebastian tightened his grip on the bony shoulder. "Stay in peace,

Mohammed." His blackened body blending into the darkness, Sebastian crouched beneath the spread branches of a clump of pampa scrub, and the

Askari guard almost brushed against him as he passed. The Askari slouched along with his rifle slung so that the barrel stood up behind his shoulder. The constant patrolling had beaten a path around the circumference of the island, the guard followed it mechanically. Half asleep on his feet, completely unaware of Sebastian's presence. He stumbled in the darkness and swore sleepily, and moved on.

Sebastian crossed the path on his hands and knees, then stretched out on his belly into a reptilian slither as he reached the mud bank.