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clumps and thickets, with clearings between where the space might be enjoyed either by waist-high bushes and cane-breaks or by moist sand which looked rather ominous. The crew needed no warnings about not wandering too freely—they showed little inclination to move more than a few yards away from the firm outer rim of the mud bar. There were occasional trees that grew very much taller than the rest, spreading their crowns magnificently and creating oases of shade where grew plants of different character—fleshy things and lichenous crusts.
    There was no immediately obvious sign of human habitation.
    I took Nieland aside. “We’ll have to go some way upriver before we can select a campsite. I don’t think there’s much point in pressing on tonight with the New Hope. Let’s fill up the water tanks from the river—I’ll check it for potability and we can sterilize if necessary. The crew can get their washing done—and so can the rest of us. If the men want to come ashore here they can, but tell them to stay close by and to move about in pairs. It’s not a particularly inviting prospect, so there shouldn’t be much dissent. It’s time for relaxation. Ask Ogburn if you and I can take the small rowboat upriver—tell him we’ll spy out the land and look for a campsite. I just want a look around. I don’t expect to see any natives, but if we do we’ll stay clear. Mariel will want to come too.”
    Nieland went off to discuss the matter with Ogburn. There would be no difficulty—it was all common sense.
    Mariel turned up beside me. The expression on her face was one of mild distaste.
    “Not very nice,” she commented. “It’s not all like this, is it?”
    I shook my head. “Upriver it’ll be a lot cleaner. Much of this place gets flooded in the rainy season. A lot of organic detritus gets brought down in the floods and deposited here, trapped by the nets of creepers. That’s why there’s so much life here...not to mention the faint odor of decay.”
    “A good thing the flies don’t fancy human flesh,” she commented, looking at the clouds of minute insects.
    “There’s nothing here will hurt us,” I said. “Except poisonous snakes and maybe one or two thorny things. But everyone has the sense to steer clear of things with fangs and stings. The water’s okay for bathing.”
    Nieland returned, and said: “We can take the boat. He’s even thrown in Roach to row it.”
    I had slightly mixed feelings about the latter bit of news, but on balance I decided that it was a good idea. I’m not a great rower, and we would be going against the current. Roach was a solid individual, with arms like a gorilla’s.
    We set off without any further delay—I was glad to see the back of the ship, and I’ve no doubt the crew was glad to see the back of us. Of the four of us, Ling was easily the most popular—they wouldn’t mind his still being around.
    Nieland sat in the prow of the boat, facing front. Roach was behind him, facing Mariel and myself. We both concentrated hard on the banks to either side. At first the south bank was hardly visible, but it soon drew in. It was a steeper shore than the north bank, with rough rocky faces ascending quite sheerly along most of its length. Obviously the south land didn’t get flooded even at the height of the wet season. The land to the north remained flatter and decorated by swamp vegetation, though this gradually gave way to a steeper aspect with long, slanting faces of smooth rock interrupted by cracks and crannies where tangled grasses grew. The river flowed slow and deep and had obviously worn out a deep channel over many centuries.
    Mariel began to trail her hand in the water—the shore on her side was so much farther away than the shore on mine that there was very little to be seen there.
    “Don’t,” I said.
    “Why not?”
    “There’s usually things in rivers that’ll have it off,” I said. I pointed to some long, gray shapes sunbathing on the shallow slopes