Reassured, I lay back down and fell into a troubled sleep. When I opened my eyes in the grey light of another overcast dawn it was to sense immediately that something had changed dramatically. There was a heavy, rushing murmur everywhere. I scrambled to my feet and looked upon a landscape transformed. The reeds among which we had slept were almost totally submerged, only their tips showing. The lip of the riverbank had been three or four feet above us when we arrived, now it was level with the boat. I swung round and looked at the river. The placid, flat surface I remembered was now a racing flood the colour of oatmeal. Small waves rose and fell, apparently at random, sweeping downstream on a broad torrent of dark, roiling water. Pieces of flotsam, ranging in size from small twigs to entire trees, rolled and twisted in the currents, now waving their branches in the air, now showing their claw-like roots.
Our boatmen were conferring among themselves anxiously. All of yesterday’s lethargy was gone. They were tense and keyed up. They must have been discussing what should be done and had come to some sort of agreement, because they made signs to Walo that he should feed the animals quickly. They helped him throw fodder to the aurochs, and handed out cold food to us. Then their leader shouted an order. One man from our boat jumped ashore, leaping across the widened gap to the bank, and went to the mooring rope that held the boat furthest downstream. Its crew assembled, all four of them, with their poles against the bank. The shoreman waited until they were ready, then, with a cry of warning, he unfastened the knot and cast off. The crew pushed in unison and their boat went sliding out from the reeds and into the racing current. Within seconds the boat was whisked away, rocking dramatically, gathering speed with every yard. In frantic haste the crew switched to their oars to prevent the boat from broaching sideways, and to bring her parallel to the current. At the centre of the river, where the current flowed the strongest, the vessel was picked up and thrust forward, bobbing wildly through the patchwork of small, frothy waves heaping over the shoal that had brought us to a halt the previous day.
Osric riding with the aurochs was next to be cast adrift. Then it was Walo and the ice bears. Finally it was our turn. The boatman on the bank untied our mooring line and flung himself across the widening gap as the current picked us up and sucked us out into the river. The boat spun crazily, a single wild revolution, before the oarsmen managed to bring it under control. Then we were racing along downriver in a wild ride that brought my heart into my mouth. The other boats had already disappeared around the next bend and I wondered if we would ever see them again.
‘How did the boatmen know beforehand?’ I called to Abram. I had to raise my voice, for the river was no longer silent. There was a sinister, constant growl as the flood water surged along, plucking at the riverbank, washing up against roots of trees, twisting itself into lines of small whirlpools.
‘I already asked,’ Abram shouted back. ‘The thunder and lightning yesterday was where the river has its headwaters. They expected heavy rain to swell the river, but admit this was more than they expected.’ He grabbed for a handhold as our boat struck a floating log and juddered.
‘How long will the flood last?’
‘They can’t be sure – all today and maybe tomorrow.’
Now I understood why the boatmen had stopped us from camping on the riverbank. I had supposed that the risk had lain within the forest. In fact, the danger had come from the river.
The flood swept our boat as fast as a horse could canter. The boatmen stood poised, one man at each corner of our vessel. They watched for floating debris or sudden upwellings and rough water. Every so often one of them took several powerful strokes with his long oar and adjusted our headlong course. Despite their efforts we thumped up against large logs. A rogue tree, torn from its roots, slammed into the side of the vessel and nearly capsized us. The tops of the waves slopped aboard, and Abram and I bailed, using whatever was at hand to throw the water back into the river. Each time I looked up from the work it was to see that we were passing a new and different section of riverbank. I estimated that in the first half-hour we travelled further than the entire distance we had covered the previous day.
There was no sight of our comrades on the other boats until we entered a straight stretch of river, perhaps a quarter of a mile long, and saw them in the distance. Thankfully, all three vessels were still afloat with their live cargoes.
With each mile the river grew wider, though the turbulence of the flood water scarcely lessened. Our boat dipped and swooped as it passed over unseen shoals. Islands came and went, the boatmen choosing a channel past them. Their skill was reassuring, and our boat, being lighter and faster, gradually caught up with Walo and the ice bears. Ahead of them by another fifty yards, I could see Osric holding on to the aurochs’ cage to steady himself. We eventually left the forest and the river took its course between low, fertile hills. On the river flatlands were fields of ripened wheat, orchards of plum and cherry, and coppiced woodland. We fled past several large farms, then a small riverside hamlet. There was no attempt to halt. The power of the flood was too strong. By mid-afternoon I calculated we had gone perhaps forty miles.