102 DAHLAK 



for a month. Now we smoked without talking, without 

 looking anyone in the eyes. 



Then Cecco came up. *Tesfankièl,' he said, 'we should be 

 really happy if you would stay a little with us. We need 

 somebody to help us. Would you like to stay with us while 

 we are here ?' 



*Ah, very much, Mr Cecco.' 



'How do you know that they call me Cecco ?' 



Tesfankièl smiled. 



'You are called Cecco, that is Mr Gianni, that is Mr Giggi, 

 and that is Miss Pircilla. My name not Teresfinkiel, but 

 Tes-fan-kièl, Tesfankièl like Michael.' 



Cecco scratched his head. 



'Listen, Michael, I want to make you an offer. We'll give 

 you two dollars a day and you eat and stay with us. All right ?' 

 (Eritrean dollars were worth about 2s. gd. each.) 



'I no want money, Mr Cecco. Me happy to be with you. 

 No need money. Don't speak 'bout money. Me come as 

 friend.' 



From that evening Tesfankièl was our inseparable, pre- 

 cious and irreplaceable colleague. He knew nothing about 

 the sea, but his good will in the most humble tasks and his 

 honesty as our camp manager were really moving. He was 

 a wizard at sums, had a prodigious memory and remarkable 

 intuition. In two days Tesfankièl called Michael became our 

 camp chief, our cook, our provisioner and factotum. And 

 before long he learned to handle the formalin and the alcohol, 

 the chests and the bottles, with intelligence and precision. 



He stayed with us almost to the end, leaving his job and 

 his boss in Massawa and suffering hunger and thirst with us. 

 He stayed, that is, until he fell ill. When I got on the plane 

 at Asmara, he said good-bye to me with tears in his eyes and 

 some days after that he entered hospital. He had caught 



