In the forward seat, his son, Nathan, beamed back at him. This maiden fishing trip was his reward for helping to cut and carry tons of firewood. Looking at the smooth skin on Nathan’s back, Daniel was reminded that his son would soon undergo the ritual of scarification. The agonising process involved slitting the skin with shards of razor-sharp bamboo, then packing the wound with tree resin to create a raised lump. When the multiple cuts healed, the scars became the scales of the crocodile, like those adorning his own flesh, and those carved on the canoe’s exquisite crocodile-head prow.

Over a metre long, it was the canoe’s crowning glory. The crocodile was not just a symbol of great power. It represented shared ancestry, a direct lineage between his people and the great reptile. Daniel had carefully repainted the prow with natural pigments, instead of cheaper house paint. The eyes of his crocodile were white and staring, to guide him through the mists that so often shrouded the great river. Between triangular carved teeth, the mouth was cerulean blue, so that the canoe would drink deep of the waters and feast on its bounty of fish.

Instinctively knowing they had reached the middle of the river, Daniel stowed his paddle and gathered up his lightweight net. In the old days, they wove them from rattan, but now they bought synthetic nets from the traders, which were stronger and easier to use. Daniel skilfully cast the net into the silken water. It was an auspicious start, for he immediately drew in six struggling bass, the best single catch he had ever made. Nathan helped position the wriggling fish, so they could be dispatched by a blow from Daniel’s stout club. They stored the fish under a cover of broad taro leaves to protect them from the sun, which would soon appear once it had burned away the enveloping shroud of fog.

Soon, the canoe rode deep with its bounty of fish. Daniel was overjoyed, for he and his brothers would feast well tonight. They would buy beer off the trader man, as well as tabac brus and other useful items. But there was room for just one more cast.

As he drew in the net, Daniel thrilled to the huge weight of fish struggling inside. With a powerful heave, he landed the haul. In the bottom of the canoe, a huge circular disc thrashed among the silver and his blood ran cold.

‘Look out!’ he shouted. ‘It’s a pacu!’