‘There’ll be another bloody hole in the wire,’ Kevin fumed as he fitted one oar to the rowlock, ‘and I’ll have to drive back to the mission.’ Gauging the distance back to the Land Rover, he grunted. ‘Damn it, it’ll be faster walking.’ Fitting the other oar, he rowed them over to the mossy steps leading down from the wharf. Retrieving the fuel cans, he got out. ‘Keso, you stay here with Mia. Don’t go anywhere, understand? I’ll be back in half an hour.’

Keso gave Mia an apologetic grin. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Mia was staring at the cluster of thatched huts across the river, thinking how beautiful they were, when suddenly she felt water soaking through her shoes. Looking down, she cried out in alarm.

‘We’re sinking!’

Oblivious with his feet up on the seat, Keso was stunned.

‘Mas be plagim.’

While he searched for the bung, she retrieved her bags from the rising water and put them on the steps. Then she hopped out, too. The water was now several centimetres deep and the bottoms of her trouser legs were wet.

‘Bos, bot sinkim!’ cried Keso, grabbing the oars. ‘Mi pul long!’

Nodding, Mia undid the tatty rope, which would surely break. It was twenty metres to the nearest bank, and Keso began rowing like mad to try and save the sinking boat. Mia glanced into the water and decided there was no point staying down here with the crocodiles. Picking up her bags, she squelched up the steps.

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

East Sepik Province, Papua New Guinea

‘We’re coming up on Timbunke,’ Kaboro announced, reducing power to negotiate a sweeping bend in the river. A picturesque village framed by several huge figs and stands of ancient palm trees came into view. Long, traditional reed houses were set on lush green lawns which ran down to a substantial wharf. A few dugout canoes were out fishing. Seeing the Albany, their occupants began to wave excitedly.

‘It’s a tourist trap,’ Douglas explained, as men, women and children ran down to the shore and jumped into their canoes. ‘Cruise ships stop by for carvings and trinkets.’

Kaboro proceeded carefully up the middle channel as a small fleet of hawkers paddled enthusiastically out to intercept them. Holding up carved wooden masks, sculptures and shields, they flashed lurid betel smiles while calling on them to stop. The Albany slowly drew level with the large and pitted concrete wharf where a group was gathered.

‘Something’s going on over there.’ Kaboro handed Nash his binoculars. ‘Could you please take a look?’

Under magnification, Nash saw a Westerner in a wide-brimmed hat waving frantically. Then he did a double take.

‘It’s a woman.’

It became clear she was struggling to keep a number of aggressive men at bay. One was holding a knife. Another was grabbing at her bag while she was distracted.

‘Kaboro, she’s in big trouble!’