Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [62]
Olivia sat and listened, her eyes wide, her laugh often disbelieving. ‘It all sounds like something out of an adventure book. What wild places you’ve been to, Captain Tyndall. Are you ever going to settle down to a normal life?’
‘What’s normal?’ he asked, but before she could compose a reply Olivia became aware of a lull in the storm.
The silence and stillness of the eye of the storm was eerie, and they sat in silence. Then as if someone had opened a door, the wind returned.
The stuffiness and pitching of the boat made Olivia feel queasy and she began to doubt the wisdom of going on this trip. She lay back and closed her eyes, trying to think of anything but where she was.
Just as she thought she could bear it no longer, it was over. They went on deck for fresh air and to see if there was any damage. All was intact. Ahmed and Tyndall exchanged a satisfied look, both pleased the Bulan had come through this test.
They all spent a restless night as insects and mosquitoes swarmed over the lugger from the nearby mangroves and thick cover of trees.
In the morning Ahmed made a breakfast of sweet rice and dried fruit which they ate on the deck.
‘All seems quiet on the other boats. They must have stayed ashore,’ commented Olivia.
‘We’ll go see what’s going on after we’ve checked the boat,’ said Tyndall.
While the men worked the deck, checked the hold and then the rigging, Olivia straightened the little galley, marvelling at how Ahmed turned out meals on a small kerosene spirit stove in such a cramped space. She washed herself in a bucket of water and put on her second pyjama outfit and bound her hair up on her head where it felt cooler. She took a small jar of rose–scented face cream from her small bag and rubbed it into her face to protect her skin, which was growing darker by the day.
At mid–morning Tyndall and Ahmed lowered the dinghy, waited for Olivia to expertly clamber into it and they rowed ashore. They followed a sandy path through the scrubby bush when suddenly they heard voices, laughter and shouts. Tyndall and Ahmed arrived first at the break in the trees and they stopped in shock at the sight that met their eyes.
Before Olivia could see what was going on in the clearing ahead, Tyndall pulled off his battered skipper’s hat and handed it to her. ‘Put this on, pull it down low. Don’t talk to anyone and stay well back,’ he commanded urgently.
At the tone of his voice she didn’t argue and peered past the two men standing in the shadows of the trees, their presence as yet unnoticed.
Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth at the scene before her.
In the centre of the clearing, a small wooden platform had been erected and standing along it were six miserable naked women, roped together. Varying in age, four were Aborigines, one was of mixed Chinese and Aboriginal blood, while the other, the youngest of them, was an exotic mix of races and stunningly beautiful. Her wide, frightened dark eyes, and lithe tall body made Olivia think of a forest deer.
‘What is going on?’ she whispered in shock.
‘It’s a barracoon … slave market. Didn’t think it was still going on.’
Olivia was too stunned to answer.
Ahmed nodded his head, ‘There’s the boss, tuan. Same fella make trouble everywhere.’
He indicated a man walking up and down amongst the motley group of white men gathered around the platform, eyeing the women like horse traders. Short and heavily built, he had a dark complexion with a bushy black beard and a gold earring in one ear. Atop this, he wore a large woven straw hat made from pandanus fronds. A long whip curled over one shoulder and a gun tucked in a wide leather belt gave him a menacing look.
‘Karl Gunther,’ hissed Tyndall.
‘He looks positively vile,’ Olivia murmured.
The man began prodding the women with the long bamboo whip handle, poking it into buttocks, between their legs and flicking at a breast. His voice boomed out, ‘Righto men, step forward, you’ve had a chance to eye the goods, let’s see who’ll be taking home these lovely ladies tonight!’ He gave a coarse laugh and leapt