My head hurts and I feel a warm trickle of something on my forehead. I reach up to brush it away and instantly pull my hand back in pain. My fingers have blood on them. I don't know what happened, in fact I don't remember much of anything. My thoughts are cloudy and it's hard to concentrate. I know I need to stop the bleeding. I move down to the water and gingerly wash off my forehead. I tear off a strip from the bottom of my tunic and wrap it around my head, tying it off. After having a drink of water I make my way up to the trees and fall asleep on the grass.
When I wake up again it is dark and cold. I notice I am wearing a satchel slung under my tunic. I look through it and find a piece of flint, dried out tinder fungus in an oiled pouch and a small knife. Without really realizing what I am doing I instinctively start preparing a fire. As I am collecting dry twigs and branches I notice the falcon has returned. It is perched on the boat again but this time there is something lying at it's feet. I finish piling the wood by the waters edge and strike the flint into the fungus, nesting at the base of the twigs. I gently blow the sparks to life and flames soon lick at the kindling. After feeding larger branches into the fire I go investigate what the bird has brought.
There is a quail lying on the sand by the canoe. I quickly skin and remove the innards from the bird, apparently I have done this before. Through this whole process the falcon watches me closely from it's perch on the canoe. "Thank you" I say as I share some of the small bits with the falcon. She surprisingly takes the pieces straight from my hand. There is a familiarity to our interaction, which is comforting and curious. I spit the remainder of the quail and roast it over the fire. I feel better after eating the little bit of meat and I wash it down with some fresh water.
As I build up the fire I wonder about my relationship to the falcon. She obviously knows me or she wouldn't stick around. I notice a small leather thong tied to her one leg which means she isn't wild. Judging by her loyalty to me I must conclude that she belongs to me. A thought returns to me and I search through my satchel. I soon find what I am looking for, a small leather hood the size of a walnut. I lift my arm and make a shrill call like the sound of a falcon. Instantly she flies to me and lands on my raised arm. As we both look at each other intently, I slip the hood over her head the way I remembered. Removing and returning the hood to my satchel, I walk over to the canoe. "Thank you my friend, for all your help" I say softly as I brush her off my arm and onto the canoe.
I sit down with my back against the canoe and the falcon over my shoulder. I watch the flames dance and sway as a ribbon of smoke rises up to the stars. A play of light races back and forth across the embers within the heart of the fire. I close my eyes for a moment and let the sounds of the night wash over me. I hear the occasional snap and crackle from the fire against the constant background thrum of the waterfall. A slight breeze blows through my hair as a wave of warmth brushes my face. A waft of smoke fills my nostrils and stings my eyes.
I believe I hear a cry in the far distance. The sounds of women and children screaming, men yelling. I hear the clash of metal on metal, metal on bone, the sound of pain and death. The dark sky is choked with acrid black smoke, the smell of burning wood and flesh. The landscape is back lit by a harsh red light punctuated by indistinct shadows swirling through my vision. Someone is leaning over me "stay down" he says. As I feel myself start to float away he mouths the words goodbye, then turns around and disappears into the smoke. I lie down on my back as low as I can. The walls of the canoe appear to grow and envelope me. I am soon caught up by the current and swept away.
I wake up lying on the sand by the canoe. The falcon is gone, the fire has died out and the sky is beginning to get brighter. I am alone and not sure what to make of the dream. I believe it has to do with me but none of the details are clear. I decide to take a plunge into the pool and freshen up. I remove the satchel but leave my clothes on in order to wash them out a bit. After swimming to the other side and back a couple times, I float on my back and watch the waterfall cascade down into the pool. I relax and let the tension in my body wash away. If I had floated down river then I must have also come over those falls. I am amazed that I am still alive.
I climb out of the water, ring out my clothes and spread them across the canoe. I restart the fire in order to warm up and help dry out my clothes. Shortly after redressing the falcon returns and we share another meal she has brought. With my back against the canoe and the falcon perched on top, we sit together in silence and watch the fire burn down. The canoe feels solid and warm behind me. I look over at the bird and watch as she surveys our camp. I am not alone.
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