Chest heaving, hair all over the place, Hannah dashed along the jungle path and down to the beach, a thunderstorm on two legs. Oblivious of the puzzled stares of the villagers, she ran until she was exhausted.

Gradually she slowed to a walk. Her face radiated heat, perspiration soaked her dress, and she could feel her heart thumping against her ribcage.

As her anger subsided, Hannah wondered what she was going to do now. She couldn’t go back to the mission house—not after what had happened. There was nowhere to go. This was an island and if she walked far enough, she would only find herself back where she began. There was no escape.

Moodily, she stared out across the sea. A line of white water over the reef was a painful reminder of her nervous arrival. Already it seemed a lifetime ago. How could it all have gone so wrong?

Defiantly, with scorn for the proprieties that Uncle Henry held so dear, she rolled down her stockings and tucked up her dress. The sea was cool as it splashed onto her shins, and she sighed. Fortunately, on this beach, there was no Kurt Oslo to annoy her.

A sea urchin lay high and dry, above the waterline. Prodding it gently with a toe, she watched as its miniature mouth pursed in response. Sympathetic to its lonely plight, she gently picked it up and placed it back under water.

The sea breeze blew on her face; welcome, soothing. Hannah released what was left of her braid and let her hair swing free. Far away, across that tantalising expanse of water, was Australia, but she couldn’t bear to think about that now.

Voices drifted through the palm trees: excited, argumentative, jocular. Frustrated with the endless, depressing cycle of her own thoughts, Hannah decided to investigate.

She met a group of men from the village: Beni and some others. It was the first time that she had seen him side on. Hannah almost winced at his stick-like girth. The shark story of Merelita’s looked to be true. There didn’t seem to be any padding for him to sit on. The men carried clubs but the friendly atmosphere amongst them put to rest any fears that they were on a sinister mission.

She put her smattering of Fijian to the test. ‘O sã lako ki vei?’

Beni pointed in the direction the group was headed. Open-mouthed with astonishment, Hannah spied a nightmarish creature scuttling across the path. No wonder the men stood at a safe distance. The giant crab flicked up stones and twigs in its wake, making close pursuit impossible. If Hannah held her arms out in a circle, they might just equal the circumference of the crab’s armoured body. The legs were extra.

In an odd mixture of Fijian and English, Beni explained they were going to catch this ferocious crab. Hannah couldn’t see how they could possibly manage it. All Beni would say was ‘Wait.’ Having nowhere else to go, an alternative offer was attractive.

Step by silent step, they followed the crab until it climbed a coconut palm. If someone had told her, she would not have believed it, but the crab inched its way right to the top. Shading her eyes against the glare, Hannah stared upwards. The crab nestled between the palm leaves. Soon a loud cracking like that of a metal pickaxe on a rock rang in their ears. Several coconuts plopped to the ground. One splitting open as it hit the earth.

‘He open coconut. Eat,’ said Beni.

Taking a step backwards, Hannah’s teeth were set on edge as the cracking continued and she pondered the strength of those claws.

After some whispering and a good deal of pointing at each other, a recruit was nominated: Ligani. The men pulled up grass that grew at the base of the tree and packed it into a coconut fibre bag which Ligani slung over his shoulder. Then he nimbly climbed the palm, but only halfway, tying the grass in a band around the trunk. He retreated and joined the group of spectators at ground level.

As Hannah watched, the crab also began to descend. The men raised their clubs. Beni whispered, ‘He no can turn round.’

The crab backed down until it felt the grass tickle its rear, assumed it was again on solid ground and released its grip on the trunk, falling many feet to the earth.

Instantly, the group were upon the giant crustacean, reducing it to the menial status of lunch.