Year 8, Day 131

I’ve made a point, lately, of asking Rainbow each evening if there is anything she would like me to watch for in my explorations. Last night she asked, rather uncertainly, if I could find a different kind of fish. “The ones here are not coming to the trap,” she said.

“Try moving the trap,” I suggested, but at the same time I felt a little guilty. I’ve spent so much time swimming and exploring the possibilities of the salt lake that I haven’t done much else. There are no fish in the lake, of course, but there is a freshwater river flowing into it from the north, along the trench I saw earlier. I should really check out its source, I thought, and I could keep my senses alert for fish on the way.

It’s still hot, since it’s close to the middle of summer there, so I flew fairly high to escape the worst of the heat. Even at altitude I could see that a ribbon of greenery bordered the river, and coming lower, I found actual trees. To both sides were mountains, with desert beyond them, but ahead was another lake, this one, from the evidence of the river, fresh. Not a large lake, and in fact much smaller than the salt lake, but one teeming with fish.

The water is warm, though not as warm as the salt lake, and the surface of the water is still well below sea level. The river runs through it, and a very quick exploration of the river northward suggests it comes from a marshy lake which gathers water from the surrounding hills. It is still in the trough, with no connection to the tideless sea.

I should adopt the same strategy I used in exploring the river and the linear sea earlier and spend half the day mapping the coast to my west and half following the trench. Meanwhile, I reached for my quarters and brought the basket I had left there. The fish were so numerous I had no problem teleporting a couple to the basket for Rainbow to prepare.

Strangely enough as I prepared to leave, I found what looked like a stone tool near the shore. It was even cruder than the ones I make, and not at all in the style Little Gnu tried to teach me, but it was quite definitely shaped purposefully. Could there be more of the People here?

Jarn’s Journal is the fictitious journal of an human-like alien stranded in Africa roughly 125,000 years ago. The story is part of the back story of my science fiction universe. The entire Journal to date, updated weekly, can be found on my author site.

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