The Bat by Jo Nesbø Page B

tribe’s initiation rites, he was a man and could therefore marry whichever of the tribe’s women he liked, provided he had not been married before and she wanted him. And Moora did. Walla could hardly tear himself awayfrom his beloved, but the tradition was that he had to go on a hunting expedition from which the spoils would be a kind of dowry for the bride’s parents, then the wedding could take place. One fine morning, the dew glistening on the leaves, Walla set out. Moora gave him a white cockatoo feather, which he wore in his hair.
    “While Walla was away Moora went out to collect honey for the feast. However, it was not so easy to find, and she had to go further from the camp than she was wont to do. She came to a valley with huge rocks. A strange silence hung over the valley, there was not a bird or an insect to be heard. She was about to leave when she spotted a nest with some big white eggs, the biggest she had ever seen. ‘I’ll take them to the feast,’ she thought and stretched out a hand.
    “At that moment she heard something slither over the rocks, and before she had time to run or open her mouth, an enormous yellow-and-brown snake coiled itself around her waist. She fought, but could not free herself, and the snake was beginning to exert pressure. Moora looked up at the blue sky above the valley and tried to call Walla’s name, but she did not have enough air in her lungs to utter a sound. The snake’s grip tightened, and in the end all the life was squeezed out of Moora, and all the bones in her body were crushed. Then the snake slithered back into the shadows it had come from—where it was impossible to see it because the colors merged with the light-dappled trees and rocks of the valley.
    “Two days passed before they found her crushed body among the rocks. Her parents were inconsolable and her mother wept and asked her husband what they would say to Walla when he returned home.”
    Andrew gazed at Harry and Birgitta through shiny eyes.
    “The campfire was no more than embers when Walla returned from hunting the following dawn. Even though it had been a strenuous trek, his steps were light and his eyesbright and happy. He went to Moora’s parents, who were sitting mute by the fire. ‘Here are my gifts to you,’ he said. And he had brought back a good catch: a kangaroo, a wombat and emu thighs.
    “ ‘You’ve arrived in time for the funeral, Walla, you who would have been our son,’ Moora’s father said. Walla looked as if he had been slapped and could barely conceal his pain and grief, but being the hardy warrior he was, he restrained the tears and asked coldly: ‘Why have you not already buried her?’ ‘Because we didn’t find her until today,’ the father said. ‘Then I’ll accompany her and demand her spirit. Our Wirinun can heal her broken bones, then I will return her spirit and breathe life into her.’ ‘It’s too late,’ said the father. ‘Her spirit has already left to go where all women’s spirits go. But her killer is still alive. Do you know your duty, my son?’
    “Walla departed without a word. He lived in a cave with the other unmarried men of the tribe. He did not speak to them either. Several months passed. Walla sat on his own and refused to take part in the singing and dancing. Some thought he had been hardening his heart to try and forget Moora. Others thought he was planning to follow Moora to the women’s kingdom of death. ‘He will not succeed,’ they said. ‘There is one place for women and one for men.’
    “A woman came to the fire and sat down. ‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘He’s deep in thought, planning how he can avenge the death of his woman. Do you suppose all you have to do is grab a spear and kill Bubbur, the great yellow-and-brown snake? You’ve never seen it, but I saw it once when I was young, and that was the day my hair turned gray. It was the most frightening sight imaginable. Mark my words, Bubbur can only be defeated in