on the deck any longer. The eyes of the crew followed him everywhere. But he didn’t want to go into the cabin, either, where Tutmose must be sitting enjoying himself with Sheri and Kia. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps it was just a case of waiting until they reached their destination. But the atmosphere on the deck was getting steadily worse, and Hopi longed to escape.
He reached the hatch that led from the deck into the cramped hold and peered into it. Awkwardly, he clambered down the steep, narrow steps, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. At first, he thought there was nothing there – nothing but foul-smelling water swilling around the bottom. But then he began to see more in the gloom: on wooden boards above the water sat sacks of grain, flagons of beer and wine, and caskets of other foodstuffs. Of course – this was where Hat-Neb kept his supplies. There were finer goods, too – bowls, caskets and statues of wood and stone, some of them representing Hat-Neb himself. Hopi listened to the Nile waters lapping the hull of the boat, and gave a sigh of relief. It was much more peaceful than on deck.
A scuttling, squeaking sound caught his attention. There were rats down here! He felt a thrill of excitement. His viper could catch one – it would be wonderful to watch it hunt. He reached for his papyrus basket, then hesitated. Was it really wise to let the viper loose? He weighed it up in his mind. Hat-Neb and the others wouldn’t be back for hours – they had taken their lunch with them. The crew had nothing to do, and no reason to visit the hold. There would be plenty of time to catch the snake before the others returned.
His mind made up, he pulled the papyrus basket from his bag. He wedged it between two sacks, took off the lid and watched as the viper slowly emerged, on full alert, to explore its new environment. At once the snake headed into the darkness between the bags of grain. Hopi felt a pang of anxiety. He couldn’t see it now. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all . . .
‘Hopi!’ A voice made him jump. It was Tutmose.
Hopi squinted up at the hatch. ‘I’m here.’
The doctor’s face peered down at him. ‘What are you doing in there? Come on up.’
Hopi looked around the hold. The snake had completely disappeared. ‘Yes, coming,’ he called, trying to catch a glimpse of the viper.
‘Well, come on then,’ insisted Tutmose.
There was no choice. He’d just have to find the snake later. Reluctantly, Hopi climbed back up the ladder and out into the bright daylight.
The doctor seemed surprisingly cheerful. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you were going to teach me something. You haven’t forgotten, I hope?’ He held out a small ceramic jar from the cabin, along with a piece of linen.
‘Oh!’ Hopi was startled. Panic rose in his chest. He had hoped that Tutmose had forgotten the idea – and now the snake was no longer in his basket. ‘N-no . . . it’s just that . . .’
‘Come, we will go to the far shelter.’ Tutmose smiled. ‘No one will disturb us there.’
Hopi tried to smile back, but couldn’t. He gazed down the deck and saw that the crew were watching them, their eyes flitting from Hopi to the doctor and back again. He took a deep breath.
‘I . . . I can’t,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Tutmose. I don’t think the viper can be milked after all – it’s not like a cobra. I think it’s better left alone.’
‘What’s changed your mind?’ Tutmose seemed annoyed.
Hopi didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t think of an excuse.
Tutmose looked at him closely. ‘You’ve released it, haven’t you?’ he demanded.
‘No, no – well, not exactly,’ stuttered Hopi.
‘Show me your basket.’
It was no use. He would have to tell Tutmose what he had done. ‘It’s down there. In the hold,’ Hopi whispered.
‘What? Loose?’ Tutmose almost shouted.
‘Sshhh. It’s perfectly safe. I’ve let it out so that it can catch a rat, if it wants to. I’ll
He reached the hatch that led from the deck into the cramped hold and peered into it. Awkwardly, he clambered down the steep, narrow steps, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. At first, he thought there was nothing there – nothing but foul-smelling water swilling around the bottom. But then he began to see more in the gloom: on wooden boards above the water sat sacks of grain, flagons of beer and wine, and caskets of other foodstuffs. Of course – this was where Hat-Neb kept his supplies. There were finer goods, too – bowls, caskets and statues of wood and stone, some of them representing Hat-Neb himself. Hopi listened to the Nile waters lapping the hull of the boat, and gave a sigh of relief. It was much more peaceful than on deck.
A scuttling, squeaking sound caught his attention. There were rats down here! He felt a thrill of excitement. His viper could catch one – it would be wonderful to watch it hunt. He reached for his papyrus basket, then hesitated. Was it really wise to let the viper loose? He weighed it up in his mind. Hat-Neb and the others wouldn’t be back for hours – they had taken their lunch with them. The crew had nothing to do, and no reason to visit the hold. There would be plenty of time to catch the snake before the others returned.
His mind made up, he pulled the papyrus basket from his bag. He wedged it between two sacks, took off the lid and watched as the viper slowly emerged, on full alert, to explore its new environment. At once the snake headed into the darkness between the bags of grain. Hopi felt a pang of anxiety. He couldn’t see it now. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all . . .
‘Hopi!’ A voice made him jump. It was Tutmose.
Hopi squinted up at the hatch. ‘I’m here.’
The doctor’s face peered down at him. ‘What are you doing in there? Come on up.’
Hopi looked around the hold. The snake had completely disappeared. ‘Yes, coming,’ he called, trying to catch a glimpse of the viper.
‘Well, come on then,’ insisted Tutmose.
There was no choice. He’d just have to find the snake later. Reluctantly, Hopi climbed back up the ladder and out into the bright daylight.
The doctor seemed surprisingly cheerful. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you were going to teach me something. You haven’t forgotten, I hope?’ He held out a small ceramic jar from the cabin, along with a piece of linen.
‘Oh!’ Hopi was startled. Panic rose in his chest. He had hoped that Tutmose had forgotten the idea – and now the snake was no longer in his basket. ‘N-no . . . it’s just that . . .’
‘Come, we will go to the far shelter.’ Tutmose smiled. ‘No one will disturb us there.’
Hopi tried to smile back, but couldn’t. He gazed down the deck and saw that the crew were watching them, their eyes flitting from Hopi to the doctor and back again. He took a deep breath.
‘I . . . I can’t,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Tutmose. I don’t think the viper can be milked after all – it’s not like a cobra. I think it’s better left alone.’
‘What’s changed your mind?’ Tutmose seemed annoyed.
Hopi didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t think of an excuse.
Tutmose looked at him closely. ‘You’ve released it, haven’t you?’ he demanded.
‘No, no – well, not exactly,’ stuttered Hopi.
‘Show me your basket.’
It was no use. He would have to tell Tutmose what he had done. ‘It’s down there. In the hold,’ Hopi whispered.
‘What? Loose?’ Tutmose almost shouted.
‘Sshhh. It’s perfectly safe. I’ve let it out so that it can catch a rat, if it wants to. I’ll
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