clouds that gathered where ships were supposed to appear,and the passing of the day, slowly did the job of unbendingmy smile. it is pointless to say that this or that night was theworst of my life. i have so many bad nights to choose fromthat i've made none the champion. still, that second night atsea stands in my memory as one of exceptional suffering,different from the frozen anxiety of the first night in being amore conventional sort of suffering, the broken-down kindconsisting of weeping and sadness and spiritual pain, anddifferent from later ones in that i still had the strength toappreciate fully what i felt. and that dreadful night waspreceded by a dreadful evening.

i noticed the presence of sharks around the lifeboat. thesun was beginning to pull the curtains on the day. it was aplacid explosion of orange and red, a great chromaticsymphony, a colour canvas of supernatural proportions, truly asplendid pacific sunset, quite wasted on me. the sharks weremakos – swift, pointy-snouted predators with long, murderousteeth that protruded noticeably from their mouths. they wereabout six or seven feet long, one was larger still. i watchedthem anxiously. the largest one came at the boat quickly, as ifto attack, its dorsal fin rising out of the water by severalinches, but it dipped below just before reaching us and glidedunderfoot with fearsome grace. it returned, not coming so closethis time, then disappeared. the other sharks paid a longervisit, coming and going at different depths, some in plain sightat hand's reach below the surface of the water, others deeperdown. there were other fish too, big and small, colourful,differently shaped. i might have considered them more closelyhad my attention not been drawn elsewhere: orange juice'shead came into sight.

she turned and brought her arm onto the tarpaulin in amotion that imitated exactly the way you or i would bring outan arm and place it on the back of the chair next to our ownin a gesture of expansive relaxation. but such was clearly nother disposition. bearing an expression profoundly sad andmournful, she began to look about, slowly turning her headfrom side to side. instantly the likeness of apes lost its amusingcharacter. she had given birth at the zoo to two young ones,strapping males five and eight years old that were her – andour – pride. it was unmistakably these she had on her mindas she searched over the water, unintentionally mimicking whati had been doing these last thirty-six hours. she noticed meand expressed nothing about it. i was just another animal thathad lost everything and was vowed to death. my moodplummeted.

then, with only a snarl for notice, the hyena went amok. ithadn't moved from its cramped quarters all day. it put itsfront legs on the zebra's side, reached over and gathered afold of skin in its jaws. it pulled roughly. a strip of hide cameoff the zebra's belly like gift-wrap paper comes off a gift, in asmooth-edged swath, only silently, in the way of tearing skin,and with greater resistance. immediately blood poured forth likea river. barking, snorting and squealing, the zebra came to lifeto defend itself. it pushed on its front legs and reared its headin an attempt to bite the hyena, but the beast was out ofreach. it shook its good hind leg, which did no more thanexplain the origin of the previous night's knocking: it was thehoof beating against the side of the boat. the zebra's attemptsat self-preservation only whipped the hyena into a frenzy ofsnarling and biting. it made a gaping wound in the zebra'sside. when it was no longer satisfied with the reach it hadfrom behind the zebra, the hyena climbed onto its haunches. itstarted pulling out coils of intestines and other viscera. therewas no order to what it was doing. it bit here, swallowedthere, seemingly overwhelmed by the riches before it. afterdevouring half the liver, it started tugging on the whitish,balloon-like stomach bag. but it was heavy, and with thezebra's haunches being higher than its belly – and blood beingslippery – the hyena started to slide into its victim. it plungedhead and shoulders into the zebra's guts, up to the knees ofits front legs. it pushed itself out, only to slide back down. itfinally settled in this position, half in, half out. the zebra wasbeing eaten alive from the inside.

it protested with diminishing vigour. blood started coming outits nostrils. once or twice it reared its head straight up, as ifappealing to heaven – the abomination of the moment wasperfectly expressed.

orange juice did not view these doings indifferently. sheraised herself to her full height on her bench. with herincongruously small legs and massive torso, she looked like arefrigerator on crooked wheels. but with her giant arms riftedin the air, she looked impressive. their span was greater thanher height – one hand hung over the water, the other reachedacross the width of the lifeboat nearly to the opposite side. shepulled back her lips, showing off enormous canines, and beganto roar. it was a deep, powerful, huffing roar, amazing for ananimal normally as silent as a giraffe. the hyena was asstartled as i was by the outburst. it cringed and retreated. butnot for long. after an intense stare at orange juice, the hairson its neck and shoulders stood up and its tail rose straight inthe air. it climbed back onto the dying zebra. there, blooddripping from its mouth, it responded to orange juice in kind,with a higher-pitched roar. the two animals were three feetapart, wide-open jaws directly facing. they put all their energiesinto their cries, their bodies shaking with the effort. i could seedeep down the hyena's throat. the pacific air, which until aminute before had been carrying the whistling and whisperingof the sea, a natural melody i would have called soothing hadthe circumstances been happier, was all at once filled with thisappalling noise, like the fury of an all-out battle, with theear-splitting firing of guns and cannons and the thunderousblasts of bombs. the hyena's roar filled the higher range ofwhat my ears could hear, orange juice's bass roar filled thelower range, and somewhere in between i could hear the criesof the helpless zebra. my ears were full. nothing more, not onemore sound, could push into them and be registered.

i began to tremble uncontrollably. i was convinced the hyenawas going to lunge at orange juice.

i could not imagine that matters could get worse, but theydid. the zebra snorted some of its blood overboard. secondslater there was a hard knock against the boat, followed byanother. the water began to churn around us with sharks.

they were searching for the source of the blood, for the foodso close at hand. their tail fins flashed out of the water, theirheads swung out. the boat was hit repeatedly. i was not afraidwe would capsize – i thought the sharks would actually punchthrough the metal hull and sink us.

with every bang the animals jumped and looked alarmed,but they were not to be distracted from their main business ofroaring in each other's faces. i was certain the shouting matchwould turn physical. instead it broke off abruptly after a fewminutes. orange juice, with huffs and lip-smacking noises,turned away, and the hyena lowered its head and retreatedbehind the zebra's butchered body. the sharks, finding nothing,stopped knocking on the boat and eventually left. silence fell atlast.

a foul and pungent smell, an earthy mix of rust andexcrement, hung in the air. there was blood everywhere,coagulating to a deep red crust. a single fly buzzed about,sounding to me like an alarm bell of insanity. no ship, nothingat all, had appeared on the horizon that day, and now the daywas ending. when the sun slipped below the horizon, it wasnot only the day that died and the poor zebra, but my familyas well. with that second sunset, disbelief gave way to pain andgrief. they were dead; i could no longer deny it. what a thingto acknowledge in your heart! to lose a brother is to losesomeone with whom you can share the experience of growingold, who is supposed to bring you a sister-in-law and niecesand nephews, creatures to people the tree of your life and giveit new branches. to lose your father is to lose the one whoseguidance and help you seek, who supports you like a treetrunk supports its branches. to lose your mother, well, that islike losing the sun above you. it is like losing – i'm sorry, iwould rather not go on. i lay down on the tarpaulin and spentthe whole night weeping and grieving, my face buried in myarms. the hyena spent a good part of the night eating.