First Published in Deccan Herald, November 11, 2001 (Reproduced by permission ...)
I thought it was time I went back to the puzzle. What else could expert weaver suggest other than a spider. Perhaps it could be 'spied her'. I told him.
"It's just one word." he said helpfully.
Then I switched over to Weaver birds. Did they have some other name? I racked my brains and soon felt tired.
"I give up. Better give me the answer."
"No! Don't give up so easily." he seemed to plead, "I really want you to get the answer."
I asked for time and said that I would try later and picked up a book to read. I read till dinner time, and after dinner, I prepared for the evening roll-call.
To my dismay I found that the radio had broken down and could neither transmit nor receive messages. The drop must have damaged it. I tried jiggling all the switches and knobs but nothing worked. It meant that our separation from the outside world was complete. The dense fog that enveloped our camp and the treacherous precipices that surrounded us precluded the possibility of the helicopter reaching us through the fog. I felt terri¬bly unhappy as I would be missing the only source of entertainment and human contact and the dry British humour that other teams in Greenland were frequently indulging in while answering their calls. Karsten did not seem too upset by the loss as he rarely answered the roll-call.
"That gives me more time to solve your puzzle", I told Karsten as I got busy with it. I followed many wrong leads before I got close to the answer and all through he was stubborn enough not to offer any help.
"It's lace!!", I finally exclaimed.
"Very good." he said dryly, "Tomorrow if the same weather continues you can finish off all the words and get the quote."
The same weather continued. That night the temperature dipped considerably and it had been snowing. It was still snowing when I woke up in the morning. Karsten was already awake but was lying in the sleeping bag staring vacantly upwards. Having got out of the bed I put on a warm water proof jacket and went out. There was a dense fog and the whole surroundings were depressingly grey, wet and freezing. I recalled that the base would be missing our call for the second time that morning.
After breakfast and coffee, which Karsten also shared, we rushed back to the warmth of our sleeping bags. I tried reading a book, but the light inside was too dim. Karsten as usual picked up the pistol, cocked it and peeped into the dark barrel.
"I'll write the next clue on a piece of paper" he said laying the pistol down. He picked up my field diary and tore off a sheet, scribbled something and handed it over. It read :
"I see my way as birds their trackless way,
When taken in a pair it talks about today."
His clues were getting more convoluted and ridiculous. I lay thinking about him and slowly dozed off.
I might have slept for ten minutes, when in my sleep, a concept just an idea formed and took shape in very concrete words.
"Death lays his icy hands on kings."
For some reason I woke up with a shiver and saw that Karsten too was fast asleep. I tried to recollect why at all I was frightened, but in vain. I even tried remembering if there were any other ideas leading up to the sentence that had formed in my mind while dozing, but no! There didn't seem to be any. Could this be an intuitive leap of my mind wrought by a heightened awareness of my surroundings? I picked up the sheet of paper on which he had scribbled and realised that the first two words did indeed add up to ICY, but I could not be sure about that. The other word that was already known was LACE, and suddenly I realised that once before he had mixed up a similar pronunciation.
My mind raced in all directions to avert a possible threat to my life. I toyed with the idea of hiding the bullets, and later even the pistol. Then I reconsidered. It was possible that he would get furious and attack me at once. There was nowhere I could escape to and no place to shelter. I really regretted not asking for a replacement when I had a chance. The inspirations that were providing me the answers to his puzzles were becoming terribly dangerous. There was only one hope: to delay my giving him the solutions to his puzzles, each one of them mortally dangerous to me, till help arrived. With no radio contact between our camp and the base, help would surely come with the sun.
I lay still with my eyes closed as if in deep sleep but with my mind churning out wild thoughts. "Perhaps there's some way of knocking him out cold and binding up his hands. Then I would be safe! I had a hammer. I could even do it. Now! When he is asleep. Or maybe there's nothing to all this. No malignant designs! No evil intentions! Nothing! Then I'd be charged with criminal assault."
My thoughts were running wild thus when I suddenly realised that I needed no further clue! The puzzle for me was complete. The word 'Kings' would be substituted by the clue to the first word for which the solution I had arrived at a play on my own name! Yes that would be it :
'DEATH LAYS HIS ICY HANDS ON DEEPAK'
(To be Continued ... )
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