Instinct

New Skills

Waves of relief lapped at the edges of consciousness with the discovery that I sustained nothing serious as I attempted to evaluate injuries. I closed my eyes again, dreaming of golden sands and salted peanuts.

I don't know how long I lay there, chewing on the salty-grit of the beach I somehow washed up on. Thunder rumbled in the distance, promising bigger, fatter raindrops than those rousing me from slumber. It took every ounce of energy I possessed to push myself to my hands and knees, crawling to a rocky outcrop at the edge of the beach where I found shelter.

I sat with my back to the rocks, absently watching the downpour while pondering life. By some miracle I had survived a crash landing. And with no hope of rescue, I would begin again here instead of the Delphine Quadrant. I thought about many things I considered essential in building my new life, and having none of them, had no idea where I would find the energy to start.

Thirst eventually drove me from the shelter into the pounding rain. I raised my face to the sky and let it wash the stinging salt from my lips while I cupped my hands to catch some for drinking. Momentarily rejuvenated, my mind formed a list of priorities. Food and shelter were obviously at the top, and if I could only find where the ship crashed, I'd solve both of those. The cargo hold had been full of supplies, everything a new colony needed – if it remained intact after impact that is.

Once the rain stopped, I limped along the water's edge in search of an easier route to the top of the cliff than the near vertical face I was confronted by, while wondering about the planet's inhabitants. The skeletal remains of a wooden boat jutting from the sand pointed at intelligence, and that thought led me to start looking for a town or village, some sign of civilisation.

The view from the top of the cliff revealed nothing obvious in the surrounding countryside. No buildings rising through the thickets, no plumes of smoke in the still air, no tracks or trails cutting the expanse of greens and golds stretching the length of the valley, and no crash site.

On the opposite side of the valley, almost hidden behind the second of three shorter peaks, a small, almost conical mountain spewed columns of white steam from various places on the near face. Living beside a volcano might be dangerous, but hot springs and fertile soil made it an otherwise ideal site. Even if I found no sign of intelligent life, I could live there comfortably.

I made my way down the slope leading into the valley. The closer I got the woods, the more abundant wildlife became. Small birds flitted between bushes, gathering berries and insects. An occasional squirrel-like creature scurried around the base of trees, collecting fallen nuts and large seeds. I filled the pockets of my tunic with nuts and feasted on berries and fruit as I came upon them. In hindsight, I know I took a huge risk by doing so, but the way I saw it, a quick death from poisonous vegetation won against starving to death.

With my primary need satiated, I sat on the damp grass at the edge of a clearing to rest and catch my breath before attempting the steeper ascent out of the valley. For a moment I was transported back to my childhood days on Earth. Memories of summer holidays camping with my dad and brother, fishing and living off the land. I smiled, remembering how much I hated it. And wished I'd paid more attention.

The air temperature dropped quickly as the sun lowered, but the shallow crevice I found, no more than a hundred metres from a steaming vent at the base of the volcano, remained cosy. I slept like the dead despite the abrasive rock taking a layer of skin from the arm I used as a pillow.

Breakfast consisted of nuts I eventually managed to open by smashing the outer casing between a couple of rocks. They tasted good, but were more of a snack than a meal. I needed to go shopping for supplies. If I wanted to gather enough to last more than one meal, I'd need something to carry it in too. I decided to stick close to the base of the volcano, traipsing through thick foliage and trees, clearing a path as I went. Watching animals led me to a couple of good sites where I also happened across reedy grass that appeared strong enough to weave. I used a couple of strands to tie a bundle together and carried it, and as much fruit as I could manage, back to the shelter.

Weaving turned out to be more difficult than I imagined. By the time I gave up trying to form a solid curved-edged basket, it was already getting dark. My efforts were not wasted, however, as the flat sheet folded in half and became a bag once I fastened two edges and used my belt as a carry strap. It also worked well as a barrier between my arm and the floor.

I lay in the dark, not the least bit tired, thinking about what I'd accomplished that day. Not a lot summed it up. The day seemed to pass in a matter of hours. At first I put it down to losing track of time while concentrating on the basket making, but the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that daylight hours were short. And that got me thinking about the season – short days, golden leaves, ripened fruit and nuts – everything pointed at autumn, which meant winter was just around the corner.