Around them, the jungle chattered and muttered, and, occasionally,
screamed. Clouds of insects, great and small, hummed and buzzed through
the air. They subsided only when the drizzling rains came, and then
lifted again from their resting places when the sun came out to raise
steamy vapors from the moist ground.
It was not an easy march. Before many days had passed, the men's feet
were cracked and blistered from the effects of fungus, dampness, and
constant marching. The compact military marching order which had
characterized the first few days of march had long since deteriorated
into a straggling column, where the weaker were supported by the
stronger.
Three more men died. One simply dropped in his tracks. He was dead
before anyone could touch him. Insect bite? Disease? No one knew.
Another had been even less fortunate. A lionlike carnivore had leaped on
him during the night and clawed him badly before one of his companions
blasted the thing with a power weapon. Three days later, the wounded man
was begging to be killed; one arm and one leg were gangrenous. But he
died while begging, thus sparing any would-be executioner from an
unpleasant duty.
The third man simply failed to show up for roll call one morning. He was
never seen again.
But the rest of the column, with dauntless courage, followed the lead of
their commander.
* * * * *
It was hard to read their expressions, those reddened eyes that peered
at him from swollen, bearded faces. But he knew his own face looked no
different.
"We all knew this wasn't going to be a fancy-dress ball when we came,"
he said. "Nobody said this was going to be the easiest way in the world
to get rich."
The commander was sitting on one of the carriers, his eyes watching the
men, who were lined up in front of him. His voice was purposely held
low, but it carried well.
"The marching has been difficult, but now we're really going to see what
we're made of.
"We all need a rest, and we all deserve one. But when I lie down to
rest, I'm going to do it in a halfway decent bed, with some good, solid
food in my belly.
"Here's the way the picture looks: An hour's march from here, there's a
good-sized village." He swung partially away from them and pointed
south. "I think we have earned that town and everything in it."
He swung back, facing them. There was a wolfish grin on his face.
"There's gold there, too. Not much, really, compared with what we'll get
later on, but enough to whet our appetites."
The men's faces were beginning to change now, in spite of the swelling.
"I don't think we need worry too much about the savages that are living
there now. With God on our side, I hardly see how we can fail."
He went on, telling them how they would attack the town, the disposition
of men, the use of the carriers, and so forth. By the time he was
through, every man there was as eager as he to move in. When he finished
speaking, they set up a cheer:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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