I suppose I did come close to drowning, that evening. But I was ill and tired, and at the time the danger seemed unimportant. After a time the sky blackened, and lightning split the darkness like great white spears flung with tremendous force into the earth. Squally rain passed over, and the boat was half filled with water. I gripped on with both hands to keep my balance, and knew it was only a matter of time before it sank. I knew, too, that I would not last long in the water. The lake had long since narrowed to a swift-flowing river, and the shore was closer now; a flash of lightning illuminated rock walls and low clumps of bushes. We were beyond the edges of the forest, in more open country. Here and there I could see gaps in the rocks and small stretches of bank where one might crawl ashore, if one had the strength. I fumbled for the pole, hoping to guide the craft to safety, for possibly it was shallower here. But my mind didn’t seem able to direct my hands, and the pole slipped away from me and over the side, floating rapidly out of reach. I was too weak to swim after it, let alone gain the shore. And if I did not drown, the cold would finish me before morning. I was on fire with the fever, and could not feel the chill, but the healer in me knew how this heat could deceive, and a person freeze to death while in its burning grip.

The storm clouds parted briefly, and the moon appeared. Pale light spread suddenly across the surging water. There was a light on the shore too, and a moment later a man’s voice, shouting. “Hey! What’s that?” And another. “Out there—look! There’s somebody in it! I think it’s a girl.” The wind gusted, blowing my hair across my eyes. The boat was floating away from the shore again. I peered toward the small light. There were two men, one carrying some sort of lantern, and the other was stripping off his shirt and wading into the water, then striking out toward me, swimming into the storm. “You’re crazy!” shouted the other after him. He was coming closer. Despite wind and current, his powerful body, white in the moonlight, moved in a straight path purposefully toward me. He was a big man, moving with grim intention. My body tensed with fear, and suddenly the thought of slipping over the side, of sinking down below the water and out of this world seemed altogether good, the only sensible thing to do. I clutched my bag with both hands and stood up unsteadily. The wind did the rest for me, tipping the boat over so that it filled and sank. The water closed over my head.

For long moments the cool was blissful, the wish for oblivion strong enough to blot out everything. Then the lungs craved air, and the spirit said No. Not yet. And I came up to the surface, choking, gasping, shivering, and terrified. Came up as he swam the last few strokes toward me and gripped me around the chest with a pair of arms like iron. I could not scream, but I fought him as hard as I could, scratching and kicking with the last of my strength.