also to be troubled by too

much water; it rained on both Sunday and Monday nights, and part of the time we were trekking through mud).

My comrades went in search of water, while I made the fire. The water they found was from a stag nant pool, but five minutes boiling and two teabags re moved any doubts; we all enjoyed our meal.

Nevertheless it was clear that our situation was se rious, and on Monday mor ning we breakfasted lightly, to conserve what food we had, and set out with at least one prayer that we might that day find a track to lead us out of the maze of ridges.

Late that morning we did find it.

It was not the Bernier track; it was not clearly any track at all, but for the rest of Monday we kept faithfully to as much of a coherent trail as we would.

While we crept slowly for ward, friends in Vila, worried by our non-arrival, were ac tive on our behalf. Thanks to them, two groups set out to find us. A team from the survey department set out that same morning, from Tanaliu to Vila, camping overnight along the track.

They, like us, found it so overgrown that they missed their way, though for a scant half-hour. They found no trace of us along the track.

Also on Monday a group of “Mobiles”, members of the Vanuatu Mobile Force, made the trip at full speed from Vila to Tanaliu, using a loud hailer at regular inter vals. The sound must have been baffled by the thickly wooded ridges; we didn t hear a thing.

By mid-afternoon we had come to a big clearing under a banyan tree. All around mud had been churned up by wild cattle, but slashes on the trees showed it to be a regular campsite for local hunters. (Later we were to learn it was called nabanga tinmit the place where hunters ate the tinned meat they had brought out with them from Vila, before catching game).

The loss of our bush-knife had made the going much rougher; weariness and de hydration had slowed our reflexes. These may have been the reasons that we lost the path that was to appear perfectly plain the next morning; we tried seve ral paths out of the clearing deciding we should camp again for the night.

This time lighting the fire was an hour long struggle with sodden wood, but we made it worthwhile by boil ing the billy twice, once for tea and once for noodle

soup. Much heartened by the hot meal, we settled down for another damp, uncomfortable night.

Wildlife at this campsite included a slug and a tick, neither of which I admired much as I plucked them from my person in the mor ning. However, our setting off that morning was cheer ful. We are convinced now that the way home could not be very far, or very hard.

Remarkably, the bush was still as beautiful on Tuesday as it had been when we entered it on Sat urday, even though most of our attention was devoted to path-finding. We worked to a system; one of us in front would scout for ground-level clues, those behind would look higher, at bushes and tree trunks, and always someone would be left to mark the last definite sign of the path. Our tracking skills had improved wonderfully since Saturday morning, and a slashed leaf or a broken vine now spoke loudly to us. Ever more substantial clues appeared from time to time car tridge cases, a pair of shoes.

The trail led us finally to a steep, dirty hillside, and we paused. If this was a mis take, it would cost us a great deal of effort to climb back up again, and we could not afford the loss of energy. But we made the decision to try down, rather than cast along the ridge, not wishing now to leave even a doubtful trail.

We plunged almost straight down, putting the finishing touches to our gen eral dirtiness, and the hillside proved itself almost im mediately, with another pair of shoes! What happens to these hunters, we won dered, that they abandon their shoes so frequently?

At the base it was a short walk to a grassy road, which led in turn to the island’s main road, above Klem’s Hill.

My two stalwart compan ions and I can’t imagine anybody steadier or more helpful to be lost with and I were back in Vila in time

for lunch.

Julie-Ann Ellis.

“The view was spectacular; the green-swathed bush swooped down to a river valley far below, and across from us other ridges marched in line with ours.”