“Edible! Again the processes of digestion not of cerebration! I find it hard to believe that we are of the same species. Once again I fill your empty brains with new information. Do you not realize that the largest elver known is no longer than the smallest nail on my foot? And you must know that mature eels grow to respectable—and I hurry to say it before you do—edible sizes.”

Enge looked down at the slowly writhing elver and conveyed appreciation of information—and growing amazement as she spoke. “That will mean that the adult forms will be gigantic!”

“It does indeed. Which is further proof that an unknown land is out there—for eels of that size have been completely unknown—up until this moment.”

A few days later Ambalasi ordered that a sample of the seawater be brought to her. A Yilanè climbed down from the fin to the uruketo’s broad back and dipped the transparent container into the waves that broke about her legs. Ambalasi raised it before her eyes, looked at it quizzically—then put it to her lips. Elem signed danger, knowing that the drinking of seawater could lead to dehydration and death.

“I am pleased at your concern,” Ambalasi said, “but it is misplaced. Taste for yourself.”

Elem hesitantly sipped from the container—then registered shock and surprise. Ambalasi agreed knowingly.

“Only a great river, greater than any we have ever known, could carry fresh water this far out to sea. I feel that we are on the edge of a mighty discovery.”

The next day they noted that sea birds were circling them in large number, sure evidence that they were close to land. Soon they saw floating vegetation in the water which was no longer as transparent and clear as it had been in midocean. Ambalasi took samples for examination before she made another of her positive statements.

“Suspended soil, bacterial life, egg cases, plankton, seeds. We are approaching an immense river that drains a vast area of an even larger continent. I predict, with some accuracy, that we are close to our destination, close to Ambalasokei.”

It rained for most of the next day, but stopped before evening. As the clouds cleared from the horizon ahead they witnessed a sunset of great majesty and color. As the uruketo surged over the long waves they glimpsed a dark line on the horizon below the flaming sky.

They slept that night, as Yilanè always sleep, unmoving and deeply, but all were awake at the first light of dawn. Elem ordered many of them below for the crush on top of the fin was unbearable. Ambalasi took the front position, as was her due, as the land on the horizon grew, came closer. It eventually opened out to reveal a wealth of small islands.

“No river,” Elem said with movements of disappointment.