James decide to show himself. He stand up, move slowly forward, waiting, hoping them not going kill him. When nothing happen, I stand up and move closer, next to James. We spend a good deal of time just staring at each other. Our skins, raggedy clothes and hair. Us eyeing what look like one of the native animals with a long tail roasting in the fire. James rub his stomach, put him fingers to him mouth as though eating. The family look at the old man then look back at us. He must be the one in charge. We have nothing to share except a few tubers we dug up that morning and James lay them on the ground. Finally the old man nod, wave at us to come over.

It is wondrous to taste the meat, half raw, half burnt, juices running down our faces. Only the man tries to speak to us, a few words of broken English. But mostly we just sit and eat, listening as they speak in a tongue that is totally unknown to us. Finally we fall asleep, keeping our few precious things hidden beneath us. In the morning the sound of a native bird cackling in the dawn light wakes us. We are alone. The family must be moved on in the night.

A few days later, we reach water. Only a few shacks scattered back from the beach, a dirt track edging the harbour with small boats pulled up along the shore. The weather turning cold, look like a storm brewing. We are worn out, our bellies grumbling from lack of food. James points cross the harbour, in the distance a wavering light shining out. If we in luck could be a bush tavern. The opposite shore don’t seem that far so we steal a boat and row cross, scramble up the rocky outcrop, get up close, peer through the window, have a peek inside. Not much to look at. A short wooden bar, a few tables with crates for chairs. Oil lamps burning, giving off smoke. Only bout three customers. I don’t think a female hand ever touch the room. We doubt the news of our escape going reach this barren place, so we decide to take a chance and show ourselves.

James enter first, then I follow. No one pay us too much mind. Seems to be that if you can pay for what you drink, no one going bother you. There’s a man sitting by himself in a corner in the shadows and, beside him, two empty seats. James amble over first, introduce himself and, when seated, call me over. With the few coins we saved, I order three ponies of ale and bring them over.