 QuicksandHere are relevant references from the Books where Quicksand is mentioned. I make no pronouncements on these matters, but report them as I find them. Arrive at your own conclusions. I wish you well, Fogaban I led her by the hand toward Nar, helped her to the glossy, hairy back of the spider, and climbed up after her. Wordlessly Nar moved rapidly through the marsh, his eight delicate feet scarcely seeming to dip into the greenish water. Once he stepped into quicksand, and his back tilted suddenly. I held the daughter of the Ubar tightly as the insect righted himself, floating in the muck for a second, and then managing to free himself with his eight scrambling legs. We had been wading for about twenty minutes when the girl suddenly screamed, and I spun around. She had sunk to her waist in the marsh water. She had slipped into a pocket of quicksand. She cried out hysterically. Cautiously I tried to approach her, but felt the ooze slipping away beneath my feet. I tried to reach her with my sword belt, but it was too short. The tarn-goad, which had been thrust in the belt, dropped into the water, and I lost it. The girl sank deeper in the mire, the surface of the water circling her armpits. She was screaming wildly, all control lost in the face of the slow, ugly death awaiting her. "Don't struggle!" I cried. But her movements were hysterical, like those of a mad animal. "The veil!" I cried. "Unwind it, throw it to me!" Her hands tried to tear at the veil, but she was unable to unwind it, in her terror and in the moment of time left to her. Then the muck crept upward to her horrified eyes, and her head slipped under the greenish waters, her hands clutching wildly at the air. I frantically looked about, caught sight of a half-submerged log some yards away, protruding upward out of the marsh water. Regardless of the possible danger, not feeling my way, I splashed to the log, jerking on it, hauling on it with all my might. In what seemed like hours but must have been a matter of only a few seconds, it gave, leaping upward out of the mud. I half-carried, half-floated it, shoving it toward the place where the daughter of the Ubar had slipped under the water. I clung to the log, floating in the shallow water over the quicksand, and reached down again and again into the mire. At last my hand clutched something - the girl's wrist - and I drew her slowly upward out of the sand. My heart leaped with joy as I heard her whimpering, choking gasps, her lungs spasmodically sucking in the fetid but vivifying air. I shoved the log back and finally, carrying the filthy body soaked in its absurd garments, made my way to a ledge of green, dry land at the edge of the swamp. I cursed because I had lost the tarn-goad in the quicksands of Ar's swamp forest. "Do you know the delta of the Vosk?" he asked. "I once traversed it," I said. "Tell me about it," he said. "It is treacherous, and trackless," I said. "It covers thousands of square pasangs. It is infested with insects, snakes and tharlarion. Marsh sharks even swim among its reeds. In it there is little solid ground. Its waters are usually shallow, seldom rising above the chest of a tall man. The footing is unreliable. There is much quicksand. It protects Port Kar from the east. Few but rencers can find their way about in it. Too, for most practical purposes, they keep it closed to traffic and trade." "Help!" I heard. "Help!" I turned about and saw a fellow several yards back, to one side, his eyes wild with horror, lift his hands. "I cannot move!" he cried. "I sink!" He had sought a shallower course. There are many such, here and there. The water there had come only to his knees. But as I watched he had sunk to his waist. "Quicksand!" said another fellow. A spear was extended to the first fellow and he seized it, eagerly, desperately, the water now about his neck, and was drawn free. "Stay in line!" chided an officer. But the fellow, I think, uttering accessions, covered with sand, needed no further encouragement. He swiftly, gratefully, took his place in one of the long lines. The loss of men to quicksand was rare now, given the lines. In the first days in the delta over two hundred men had been lost, in one case an entire platoon. Several others, unaccounted for, may also have been victims of the treacherous sand. Other reports soon began to trickle in. Two columns had been decimated in rencer attacks. Hundreds of men had perished in quicksand. Many of these had apparently been lured into the mire by rencers who had permitted themselves to be seen, and pursued, rencers who doubtless knew their way through the area, perhaps even drawing up safe-passage markers behind them. "Help!" cried the man in the sand. It was now high, about his waist. It is not hard to stumble into such sand. One might wade into it, unwittingly. Then, instead of supporting one's weight, with a give of some inches, it seems, suddenly to grasp the ankles, and then gravity begins its slow work. Most quicksand, of course, is not particularly dangerous, as often one can turn about and scramble back, out of it, or reach in one's struggles a more solid footing, or its edge, or it is only two or three feet deep. It is extremely dangerous, of course, in certain expanses and depths. For example, if one is several feet into a pool of it before one realizes this, one might be trapped, too, of course, if the sand is deep, deeper than the height of the trapped organism. Sometimes such pools are extremely treacherous, as when they have a natural concealment, the sand at their top, supported by surface tension, seemingly continuous with adjacent sand, or when covered with algae or swamp growth. The pools differ, too, in their density. In some one sinks relatively rapidly, in others, where the sand is of greater density, the same relative loss of elevation may take several Ehn, in some cases as much as half of an Ahn. There are several techniques for avoiding the dangers of quicksand. One may follow a tested, scouted path, either following others or keeping to marked passages, if they exist; one should not go into such areas alone, one should not travel in close proximity to the others, one should have rope, and so on. If one struggles, one sinks faster. Thus, in certain cases, it is rational to attempt to remain calm and call for help. Of course, if no one is about, and one will otherwise inevitably sink, it makes sense to attempt to free oneself, by wading, or, in effect, trying to swim free. If one's legs are locked in the sand, of courses, one is considerably handicapped in such efforts. I think, from his appearance, that he had muchly struggled in the sand, this suggesting he was alone. But now, it seemed, he had stopped struggling, and was simply crying out for help, in case, presumably despite all probabilities, any might be about. I gathered that he had ceased his struggles, convinced that they were futile. I suspected he was correct. The fellow in the sand wore the uniform of Ar. I saw no one else about. I gathered that he was alone, probably foraging. "Help!" he suddenly cried, seeing me, reaching out toward me. "Help! Help!" He was covered with the slime and sand of the marsh. "Friend!" he cried. "Fellow soldier of Ar! Help!" I stood forth, at the edge of the pool of sand. He was about ten feet from me. "Help!" he cried. I regarded him. "I am absolutely helpless!" he said. "I am trapped! I cannot move without sinking further!" That seemed to me true. "I am sinking!" he cried. "Render me assistance or I will die!" I saw no point in disputing his assessment of the situation. As nearly as I could determine, it was perfectly correct. "Fellow soldier of Ar," said he, "help me, I beg of you!" "I am not a soldier of Ar," I said. He looked at me, wildly. "Do you not recognize me?" I asked. He moaned with misery. My heart was consumed with rage toward him. Had I had him within the compass of my blade I might have run him through, then hacked him into meat for tharlarion. "Help me!" he said. The sand was now to his chest. I regarded him. "Help me, friend!" said he. He put out his hand to me. "I am not your friend," I said. "Help me," he said. "Please!" "You are not an honorable man," I said. "Please!" he cried. His eyes were wild. His hand was out, piteously, helplessly, to me. I turned about and left the side of the pool of sand. "Sleen! Sleen!" I heard him weep, after me. I strode angrily back to the raft. Seeing my face, and the ferocity of my stride, Ina, on her knees by the raft, swiftly put her head down to the sand. She trembled. I seized her by the upper arms and flung her on her back in the sand and discharged lightning into her softness. Then she lay shattered, gasping, in the sand. She looked up at me, wildly. I seized up the pole from the raft in fury and strode back to the pool of sand. Then, angrily, I extended it toward the soldier of Ar, Plenius, who had been my keeper. The sand was then about his mouth. His hands reached piteously toward the pole. He could not reach it. Then he managed to grasp it with one hand, then two. Then I drew him, filthy, covered with sand and water, from the pool, to the dry land. He was trembling there. These troops were deliberately undersupplied and misled. They were deliberately subjected to orders which were obscure or confused, even contradictory, orders the compliance with which would be almost suicidal in the terrain. These troops, as planned, had been decimated in the delta of the Vosk, and largely lost, the prey of heat and insects, of salt water and quicksand, of armed rencers, of serpents and tharlarion. Few, proportionately, had returned home. Meanwhile, following orders, the forces of Ar, with good heart, penetrated ever more deeply into the delta. The enemy they encountered, of course, was not the expected foe, but the delta itself, with its insects, heat, humidity, uncertain footing, quicksand, tharlarion, and rencers, denizens of the delta, almost invisible, subtle in warfare, masters of the bow and ambush. Few of the men of Ar reached the Tamber Gulf, Thassa, or Port Kar. Poling in the trackless delta, the rope on their neck, they are well aware of the wilderness, the vastness, the treacherous byways, the quicksand, the heat, the insects, leeches, delta sharks, winged, predatory uls, and, in particular, marsh tharlarion, which often scout the boats, and accompany them, little but the eyes visible, for pasangs. Patches of quicksand, which are rare in the marshes, are sometimes marked by Rencers with yellow-tufted wands. Given the physics of quicksand, comparative densities, and such, it presents one with little danger of drowning. By far the greater danger is entrapment. If one is unable to free oneself, perhaps by spreading out, getting to one's back, and working one's way to more solid ground, one might drown in rising tides, fall prey to tharlarion, or even, eventually, die of exposure or hunger. Suddenly my right foot sank to the knee and I nearly fell. I tried to pull my foot free but my left leg then sunk to the thigh. I tried to remain upright. Then I was in the marsh to my waist. I became alarmed and struggled and I sank further. I was held fast. I could not free myself. The clouds parted and the light of the moons again bathed the marsh and rence. To my right, some feet away I saw a wand, a tufted wand. I knew the meaning of that marker. I could not well tell the color in the light, but I was sure it would be yellow. Rencers sometime set such markers in the marsh to warn of quicksand. I was alone. I could see nothing about which I could grasp. I sunk no further. My arms and hands were free. Given the comparative densities, the physics of displacement, and such, I was in no danger of slipping beneath the surface. Initially, of course, I was less sure of that than later. The longer one remains held fast, of course, the greater is the danger. One is in the most immediate danger from long tharlarion whose body shape distributes its weight in such a way that it has little to fear from quicksand. A second danger has to do with tidal levels. In my situation the rising tide in Thassa and the Tamber Gulf will wash back into the marshes. In such a case, depending on the levels, which I did not know, it might be possible to drown. A more remote possibility, but not one to be ignored, was death by exposure or from a simple lack of sustenance. Then, again, clouds obscured the moons. My feelings, after my first terror, were less of alarm than of frustration and futility. I was angry with myself and the marsh. I felt helpless, and stupid. I had managed to escape, I was sure, from terrible danger. How fortunate I had felt. How elated I had been! And now I might as well have been publicly caged, in a cage others might open but one in which I was a helpless prisoner, in a cage at the mercy of whomsoever might happen by. And then I was very afraid, and for the first time since I was trapped. What if no one should happen by? I was afraid to cry out, for fear Pa-Kur and his men might hear me. Surely they could not be far away. The sand about me grew slick and wet. Water washed against me. I scooped up a bit of water and tasted it. It was sea water. The tide was rising in the Tamber. I had no idea how high the tide might rise, inches, a foot, a yard, several feet? Tides vary considerably, even to the number of tides a day. They are influenced by a number of things, such as the primary of the planet, the size of the planet, the period and nature of its rotation, the size and number of the planet's moons, winds and storms, and the configuration of coastlines and tidal basins. My body felt cold in the dark as the water rose slightly. The Yellow Moon then broke free of clouds and I could see its light reflected all about me in the rising, surrounding water. I tried to go to my stomach, to force myself prone, and then to my back, to force myself supine, distributing my weight, but I could not do so. I could not draw my body upward, my legs free. I could not free myself! I could feel the encircling water rising. I suddenly became aware that I was screaming, hysterically, heedless of who might be listening. I do not know how long I cried out. It may have been a quarter of an Ahn. The water was rising, slowly, inexorably. I stopped screaming. I caught my breath. My throat was sore. I was cold. I looked about, wildly, at the moonlit water, at the tufted wand, less of which could now be seen, at the rence to the side. I must try to cry out, again. "Please, help!" I whispered, hoarse, scarcely capable of hearing my own voice. "Please, help!" At that moment I felt something strike against my back. My first thought was that it was the investigatory prodding of a marsh shark or a Tamber shark. I screamed in fear. I took it to be the first of two or three such proddings, prior to the turning and the strike. But the water was too shallow for that. Then I cried out again, certain that it was the snout of a long tharlarion, moving easily through the shallow water. But it could not be so, for such a beast seizes its prey, precipitously, and then drags it under water to drown it, after which it feasts. But what had struck my back had seemed inert, wooden, thick, wide, afloat, and curved. It was debris of some sort. Then it seemed about to turn about and drift away. I wrenched my body about and caught at it. It slipped from my hand, and I struck at it, dragging my hand across it, moving it back toward me. Then I had one hand on what seemed part of a rail. I suspected it had come from the side of the canal boat, from the right side of the canal boat, in the darkness, and somehow, in the mix of waters, that of the exiting freshwater flow of the Vosk, draining through the marsh, and the incoming, rising tide of the Tamber, had turned and moved behind me. I was desperate that it not drift away, behind me, in the tide. I fear I was not thinking clearly. I pulled it around, before me, one hand tight on the rail, the other hand, as it could, grasping the edge. It was large, and wooden. It was some three by four feet, and curved, consisting of narrow planks fastened to a curved rib. I pressed it down, fiercely, against the sand about my waist. Given its breadth it moved only an inch or so into the sand. By its means I obtained purchase, something anchored in terms of which I could press down and lift myself, inch by inch, upward, free of the grip of the sand. In a few Ehn my body was much across the object, and then the object was caught in the incoming tide, and it floated, supporting me. "I was at great risk in the delta," I said, "helplessly caught in quicksand." "You managed to seize upon a bit of flotsam, some debris," he said, "enabling you to free yourself." "Yes, Master," I said. "It seems you were very fortunate," he said. "Yes, Master," she said, "I, followed by my worthless collar sister, Mira -escaping many dangers and fierce uls, discovering a formidable enemy lying in wait for your fleet of barges, transporting the goods of the noble Master Tenalian, put aside all thoughts of personal safety and, at great personal risk, in the lonely, vast, trackless, watery wilderness of the delta, imperiled by tharlarion, quicksand, serpents, sharks, and Rencers, fought my way to your side, to bring you intelligence without which you would surely have been destroyed." |       | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
