Tales from Ichirouganaim
The waves had just capsized Hiyaro and Wadili's dugout. The former occupants struggled in the churning water, swimming towards the capsized dugout. Hiyaro was first to hold on to the wooden hull, borne up by Wadilli. Two other members of the village joined her but they had not been in the dugout when it capsized. Then one more held on, then another and then two more.
Gasping for air as the waves and wind gripped their throats and the salt burned their eyes, the eight held on. With aching muscles they held on. With splinters in hands and under fingernails they held on. There was no song about this moment. No one sings the song of there impending death. Perhaps Hiyaro taunts of Afefe had angered the wind spirit. Perhaps the Juaguar Terror could still have reached them. Each of the eight was afraid! All of the eight realized the dark truth!
A dugout canoe holds only four people!
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