Ekewane - The Sorceress Page 2

Shell armband

  There had not been any laughter or dancing in the village for a long time. The adults of the village had grown quiet; they only spoke in whispers. Only the children, who did not understand what was happening, played and swam as they always had.

  Ekewane at the time did not comprehend why the adults were so serious; she and her friends that were chosen for the voyage were very excited at the prospect of the adventure. They huddled together at night and talked until dawn about what they would see and do in their new life. But they did not realize that they would never again see any of their families and friends that were left behind.

  For many months the men were busy making the large canoes. The remaining families of the village gave those that left all of the food they could spare; it was going to be a long dangerous voyage.

  Ekewane lay awake at night and listened to the elders talking about the island currents and how they would take the canoes to the neighbouring islands. They had heard of strange lands over the horizon. Passing islanders in their large canoes on their kula-ring, an exchange system that existed throughout the Pacific Islands, would tell stories of many islands where coconut trees and fish were plentiful.

  Kula traders had over the years stopped at their island and exchanged sopulava -long necklaces of red-disk shells or colourful pink and orange coloured shells. Pigs, chickens, coconuts and other food, as well as crafts made from their islands were also exchanged; but nobody from their island had ever travelled far from their home.

  These travellers would tell of strange lands and peoples. Ekewane and the other children were allowed to sit around the fire at night and listen to the wondrous stories told by these travellers.

  Erangue, her father, held a position of power within the village and the kula-ring. He had the ‘first-class’ shell armband, and had a prestigious reputation throughout the islands.

  Many of the villagers were jealous of this power, and looked at the shell armband with reverence and envy. Her father had carefully wrapped his precious shell armband in their tribal mat; he knew that if they landed on an island that was part of the kula-ring he would be given hospitality and protection, as well as the prestige indicated by his armband.

  Ekewane now looked over the endless vastness of threatening sea that was quickly changing colour. She thought of her best friends Emarr and Amweb, and wondered what they were doing. She missed them, and although she was in the canoe with her family and cousins, felt lonely –lonely for the long days of fun with her friends. Although only weeks had passed she felt older. She looked down at her slim body and began to notice small differences.

  “Perhaps, going so close towards the sun makes you older? So if I stay on the canoe for a long time I would end up old like my grandmother,” she thought desperately.

  Her father holding out in front of her a small piece of fish interrupted her thoughts.

  “Eat.”

  Ekewane was not hungry, her body ached from sitting in one place for so long, and the hunger pains had now stopped; she thought less and less of food, as she and the rest of the occupants of the canoe became weaker and weaker.

  “Eat!”

  It was an order, so she slowly took the raw fish and put in into her mouth and slowly chewed. The chewing was painful, she could taste the blood from her gums and teeth that had become very sensitive, and so she swallowed. The food grazed her throat as it struggled to go down her parched, dry throat.

  Ekewane kept watching the dark clouds. The sky had turned almost into night. Again she felt afraid. The waves swelled higher and higher. The wind was fierce and she thought that she would be blown out of the canoe; she did not have the strength to hold on much longer.

  Ekewane’s father fought the wind and made sure that the last remaining animals were all securely tied, and then helped the others in the canoe tie a rope around each other.

  The boat was thrown from side to side by the furious waves, and all Ekewane could see was mountains of dark grey water; they lifted high above their large canoe and then came crashing down. She could no longer see the sky; only water. So she closed her eyes and dreamt she was back on her island, running along the beach and racing into the sea, swimming under the clear blue water to watch the tiny fish play amongst the corals.

  She heard in the distance a whisper, a strange humming sound; a note amongst the crashing, howling rage of the angry sea. Ekewane knew that it was her mother chanting, she was working her magic. Ekewane again remembered her ancestors, they were powerful she thought, and so held onto a faint glimmer of courage.

  Again and again she felt the canoe climb steadily then, drop violently back into the sea; somewhere deep within she knew that it could not continue to withstand the battering it was exposed to. She could hear her father’s voice screaming above the crashing of the waves, he was screaming something, but Ekewane could not understand.

  For how long she lay there numb with fear, neither awake nor asleep, she did not know. She concentrated on the laboured breathing of the small boy who lay close to her; in -out, in- out, in -out the breathing went. At some time however, she must have fallen asleep. The storm had ceased, and just as violently and swiftly as it came, it disappeared.

  Ekewane was awakened by her father’s intense voice.

  “It’s a frigate bird!” he yelled, unable to contain some of his anxiety.

  Ekewane forced her eyes to slowly open, far above there was a black shadow of a large bird; she knew that the frigate bird could be a sign of land, but also remembered that it was also a sign of death. Frigate birds were said to carry the souls of those who died away; a pitch-black cloud would be seen on the horizon, they were the vehicles to transport the dead soul to the other world, and the frigate bird would accompany the soul.

  She quickly glanced towards the horizon, but could not see any signs of clouds, so for a stunned moment, wondered if they had all died, and they were the ones being taken to the other world. The frigate bird was also a messenger from the spirit world, so everyone looked at her mother.

  Emanear studied the bird for a long time until it was no longer visible, then slowly turned and said in a quiet voice:

  “The frigate bird was sent by our ancestors. It does not bring with it a message of death, but of a new island, full of coconut trees and plentiful fish.” She then lowered her head and started chanting.

  A new wave of hope and excitement swept over the canoe. Everyone believed her, for she had the magic to speak to the spirit world. All eyes now were strained on the horizon; but there was nothing there but the shimmering endless blue of the sea.

  Two more signs were cut into the board beside her mother, but nobody doubted that they would see the land spoken of by their ancestors. Then on the third morning there was what seemed a low-lying cloud on the horizon, and everyone knew that they had finally found land.

  However, a new fear was taking hold; maybe hostile tribes inhabited this land, or those mythical spirits that could destroy entire villages lived there? There had been stories of such tribes and spirits told by some of the canoes that had visited their island.

  Without any signal, the men on the canoe unwrapped their weapons. Ekewane knew that the people on the other canoes, when they saw the island would also prepare for a fight.

  Erangue placed a clam-axe in front of her, she was stunned as usually only the men carried the weapons: she took the axe without questioning. She wondered how they would be able to protect themselves; they were all so weak. Again she felt the sharp pain in her stomach; the horrifying fear had returned again.

  Chapter Three.

  Volcanic Island