I recognised her: Drummerrerlooner, the woman Munro had called Louisa, who’d rowed the sea chest out to us after our eviction. Her gaze met mine but apparently saw nothing there. She lowered her eyes again.

‘Where will all these people go?’

‘Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We will complete this sweep of the islands. Mister Robinson is on the mainland of Van Diemen’s Land negotiating with the chieftains. Cleaning out the Augean stables, he calls it.’ He gave an admiring chuckle. ‘Then we may see what we have.’

He asked me if I wished to look below decks at the natives’ living quarters, and when I declined, said, ‘I should apologise to you for the encounter at Passage Island.’

‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘Some of the crew were…over-exuberant. They have a particular view about that native woman you have with you.’

‘What kind of view?’

‘That she is dangerous. Surely you would agree?’

I did. I said nothing.

‘She has a gift for riling them up,’ he went on, and hesitated. ‘Miss, there was another vessel. You may not have been aware?’

‘I’m not aware. What vessel?’

‘Following you. They came alongside us at Badger Island, asking after the Moonbird. Your vessel,’ he added helpfully.

‘Who were they?’

‘The bosun took a note of the name, I don’t have it. Smallish trading brig.’

‘Perhaps they were also pursuing Tarenorerer,’ I offered.

‘The native woman? I don’t think so,’ he said, and shrugged. ‘No matter. They were not hostile.’

Around us the singing had stopped and the heat of the midday sun had brought a kind of torpor. There was nothing more to see. Parish and Robinson’s great civilising drive amounted to a boatload of miserable souls trapped in unrequited piety. It occurred to me that the sinners onshore were doing a better job of offering an alternative to slaughter.

~

When we came ashore again on Gun Carriage, John Smith was back inside the house, and in a fury.

He’d stationed himself there, evidently wanting to be a focal point in the search for Gideon. But the men had taken off without method, grouped by family and other allegiances. They’d armed themselves as they pleased; some were drinking: all were spoiling for a fight.

‘Just as likely to shoot each other as this Gideon,’ Smith fumed. ‘Island’s five square miles, whole east coast’s heavy scrub. How they gonna find him? Did they secure all the boats? What if he swims tae one? Fuck. You two.’ He collared the young men standing nearest. ‘Take a walk all the way round. Any boats been pulled up, tek em out and moor em till there’s none left at all, see? No boats—none—on the whole fuckin island.’