pdouglas.thecodex-第41部分

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ion　to　escape；　especially　with　manacles。　It　was　a　shame　to　lose　the　services　of　a　soldier　when　he　had　so　few　petent　ones；　but　when　the　time　came　Philip　could　be　a　useful　bargaining　chip。　One　should　never　underestimate　the　value　of　a　hostage。
　He　ordered　his　men　into　double…time。
　It　unfolded　exactly　as　he　suspected。　The　Indians　had　heard　them　ing　just　in　time　and　had　melted　into　the　forest…but　not　before　Hauser　had　marked　where　they'd　gone。　He　was　an　expert　jungle　tracker；　and　he　pursued　them　at　full　press；　a　blitzkreig　strategy　that　never　failed　to　terrify　even　the　most　prepared　enemy…let　alone　a　group　of　unsuspecting　hunters。　His　men　split；　and　Hauser　took　himself　and　two　others　on　a　roundabout　route；　cutting　off　the　Indians。
　It　was　fast；　furious；　and　earsplitting。　The　jungle　shook。　It　brought　back　with　such　vividness　his　many　firefights　in　Vietnam。　In　less　than　a　minute　it　was　over；　trees　were　shattered　and　stripped；　bushes　smoking；　the　ground　pulverized；　an　acrid　haze　drifting　upward。　One　small　tree　had　its　branches　hung　with　orchids　and　entrails。
　It　was　amazing；　really；　what　a　couple　of　simple　grenade　launchers　could　do。
　Hauser　added　up　the　body　parts　and　determined　that　four　men　had　been　killed。　Two　others　had　escaped。　For　once　his　soldiers　had　acted　petently。　This　is　what　they　were　good　at：　straight…ahead；　unplicated　killing。　He　would　have　to　remember　that。
　There　wasn't　much　time。　He　needed　to　reach　the　village　shortly　after　the　two　survivors　in　order　to　strike　at　the　moment　of　greatest　confusion　and　terror；　but　before　they　could　organize。
　He　turned　and　shouted　to　his　men。　〃Arriba！　Vamonos！〃
　The　men　cheered；　heartened　by　his　enthusiasm；　finally　in　their　element。　〃To　the　village！〃
　
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　It　rained　for　a　week　solid；　without　letup。　Every　day　they　pushed　forward；　up　and　down　canyons；　along　precarious　cliffs；　across　roaring　streams；　all　of　it　buried　in　the　thickest　jungle　Tom　thought　possible。　If　they　made　four　miles　it　was　a　good　day。　After　seven　days　of　this　Tom　awoke　one　morning　to　find　the　rain　had　finally　ceased。　Don　Alfonso　was　already　up；　tending　a　large　fire。　His　face　was　grave。　While　they　ate　breakfast；　he　announced：
　〃I　had　a　dream　last　night。〃
　The　serious　tone　in　his　voice　gave　Tom　pause。　〃What　kind　of　dream？〃
　〃I　dreamed　that　I　died。　My　soul　went　up　into　the　sky　and　began　searching　for　St。　Peter。　I　found　him　standing　in　front　of　the　gates　of　heaven。　He　hailed　me　as　I　came　up。　'Don　Alfonso；　is　that　you；　you　old　rascal？'　he　asked。　'That's　right；'　I　said。　'It　is　I；　Don　Alfonso　Boswas；　who　died　in　the　jungle　far　from　home　at　the　age　of　one　hundred　and　twenty…one；　and　I　want　to　e　inside　and　see　my　Rosita。'　'What　were　you　doing　way　out　there　in　the　jungle；　Don　Alfonso？'　he　asked。　'I　was　with　some　crazy　yanquis　going　to　the　Sierra　Azul；'　I　said。　'And　did　you　get　there？'　he　asked。　'No；'　I　said。　'Well　then；　Don　Alfonso；　you　scoundrel；　you'll　have　to　go　back。'　〃
　He　stopped；　then　added；　〃And　so　I　came　back。〃
　Tom　wasn't　sure　how　to　react。　For　a　moment　he　thought　the　dream　might　be　one　of　Don　Alfonso's　jokes；　until　he　saw　the　serious　look　on　the　old　man's　face。　He　exchanged　a　glance　with　Sally。
　〃So　what　does　this　dream　mean？〃　Sally　asked。
　Don　Alfonso　placed　a　piece　of　matta　root　inside　his　mouth　and　chewed　thoughtfully；　then　leaned　over　to　spit　put　the　pulp。　〃It　means　I　have　only　a　few　more　days　with　you。〃
　〃A　few　more　days？　Don't　be　ridiculous。〃
　Don　Alfonso　finished　his　stew　and　rose；　saying；　〃Let　us　talk　no　more　about　this　and　go　to　the　Sierra　Azul。〃
　That　day　was　worse　than　before；　for　when　the　rains　ceased　the　insects　appeared。　The　travelers　struggled　up　and　down　a　succession　of　steep　ridges　on　trails　deep　in　muck；　falling　and　sliding　constantly；　hounded　by　swarms。　Toward　afternoon　they　descended　into　another　ravine　echoing　with　the　sound　of　roaring　water。　As　they　descended　the　roar　became　louder；　and　Tom　realized　a　major　river　lay　at　the　bottom。　As　the　foliage　broke　at　the　banks　of　the　river；　Don　Alfonso；　who　was　in　front；　halted　and　retreated　in　confusion；　motioning　them　to　stay　back　in　the　trees。
　〃What's　wrong？〃　Tom　asked。
　〃There　is　a　dead　man　across　the　river；　under　a　tree。〃
　〃An　Indian？〃
　〃No；　it　is　a　person　wearing　North　American　clothing。〃
　〃Could　it　be　an　ambush？〃
　〃No；　Tomás；　if　it　was　an　ambush　we　would　already　be　dead。〃
　Tom　followed　Don　Alfonso　to　the　riverbank。　On　the　other　side　of　the　river；　perhaps　fifty　yards　up　from　the　crossing　point；　there　was　a　small　natural　clearing　with　a　large　tree　in　the　middle。　Tom　could　just　see　a　bit　of　color　behind　the　tree。　He　borrowed　Vernon's　binoculars　to　examine　it　more　closely。　A　bare　foot；　horribly　swollen；　was　visible；　with　part　of　a　ragged　pantleg　in　view。　The　rest　of　him　was　hidden　behind　the　trunk。　As　Tom　looked　he　saw　a　bluish　puff　of　smoke　drift　from　behind　the　tree；　then　another。
　〃Unless　a　dead　man　can　smoke；　that　man's　alive；〃　said　Tom。
　〃Mother　of　God；　you　are　right。〃
　They　felled　a　tree　across　the　river。　The　sound　of　the　axe　echoed　through　the　forest；　but　whoever　was　behind　the　tree　did　not　move。
　After　the　tree　had　e　crashing　down；　forming　a　wobbly　bridge；　Don　Alfonso　stared　suspiciously　across　the　river。　〃It　may　be　a　demon。〃
　They　crossed　on　the　rickety　tree　using　the　pole。　On　the　far　side　of　the　river　they　could　no　longer　see　the　man。
　〃We　must　go　on　and　pretend　we　have　not　seen　him；〃　whispered　Don　Alfonso。　〃I　am　sure　now　it　is　a　demon。〃
　〃That's　absurd；〃　said　Tom。　〃I'm　going　to　check　it　out。〃
　〃Please　do　not　go；　Tomás。　He　will　steal　your　soul　and　take　it　to　the　bottom　of　the　river。〃
　〃I'll　e　with　you；〃　said　Vernon。
　〃Curandera；　you　stay　here。　I　do　not　want　the　demon　to　take　all　of　you。〃
　Tom　and　Vernon　picked　their　way　along　the　polished　boulders　on　the　riverbank；　leaving　Don　Alfonso　muttering　unhappily　to　himself。　They　soon　arrived　at　the　clearing　and　stepped　around　the　tree。
　There；　they　beheld　a　wreck　of　a　human　being。　He　sat　with　his　back　against　the　tree；　smoking　a　briar　pipe；　looking　at　them　steadily。　He　did　not　seem　to　be　an　Indian；　although　his　skin　was　almost　black。　His　clothing　was　in　tatters；　and　his　face　was　scratched　raw　and　bleeding　from　insect　bites。　His　bare　feet　were　cut　and　swollen。　He　was　so　thin；　the　bones　of　his　body　stuck　out　grotesquely；　like　a　starving　refugee's。　His　hair　was　stringy；　and　he　had　a　short　beard　full　of　sticks　and　leaves。
　He　made　no　reaction　to　their　arrival。　He　merely　stared　up　at　them　out　of　hollow　eyes。　He　looked　more　dead　than　alive。　And　then　he　gave　a　start；　like　a　little　shiver。　The　pipe　came　out　of　his　mouth；　and　he　spoke；　his　voice　little　more　than　a　harsh　whisper。
　〃How　are　you；　brothers　of　mine？〃
　
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　Tom　jumped；　he　was　so　startled　by　hearing　his　brother　Philip's　voice　ing　from　this　living　cadaver。　He　bent　down　to　scrutinize　the　face；　but　he　could　find　no　point　of　resemblance。　He　recoiled　in　horror：　Maggots　were　squirming　in　a　sore　on　the　man's　neck。
　〃Philip？〃　Vernon　whispered。
　The　voice　croaked　an　affirmative。
　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃
　〃Dying。〃　He　spoke　matter…of…factly。
　Tom　knelt　and　looked　into　his　brother's　face　closer　up。　He　was　still　too　horrified　to　speak　or　react。　He　laid　a　hand　on　his　brother's　bony　shoulder。　〃What　happened？〃
　The　figure　closed　its　eyes　for　a　moment；　then　opened　them。　〃Later。〃
　〃Of　course。　What　am　I　thinking？〃　Tom　turned　to　his　brother。　〃Vernon；　go　get　Don　Alfonso　and　Sally。　Tell　them　we　found　Philip　and　that　we're　making　camp　here。〃
　Tom　continued　looking　at　his　brother；　too　shocked　to　speak。　Philip　was　so　utterly　calm　。。。　it　was　as　if　he　had　already　resigned　himself　to　death。　It　was　unnatural。　There　was　the　serenity　of　apathy　in　his　eyes。
　Don　Alfonso　arrived　and；　relieved　to　find　that　the　river　demon　had　turned　out　to　be　a　human　being；　began　clearing　an　area　to　set　up　camp。
　When　Philip　saw　Sally　he　removed　the　pipe　and　blinked。
　〃I'm　Sally　Colorado；〃　she　said；　taking　his　hand　in　hers。
　Philip　managed　a　nod。
　〃We　need　to　clean　you　up　and　doctor　you。〃
　〃Thank　you。〃
　They　carried　Philip　down　to　the　river；　laid　him　on　a　bed　of　banana　leaves；　and　stripped　him。　Philip's　body　was　covered　with　sores；　many　of　which　were　infected　and　some　of　which　were　crawling　with　maggots。　The　maggots；　Tom　thought；　examining　the　wounds；　had　actually　been　a　boon；　as　they　were　consuming　the　septic　tissue　and　reducing　the　chance　of　gangrene。　He　could　see　that　in　some　of　the　wounds　where　the　maggots　had　been　at　work　there　was　already　fresh　granulation　tissue。　Others　didn't　look　so　good。
　With　an　awful　feeling　he　looked　at　his　brother。　They　had　no　drugs；　no　antibiotics；　no　bandages；　only　Sally's　herbs。　They　carefully　washed　him　and　then　carried　him　back　to　the　clearing　and　laid　him　down；　stark　naked；　on　a　bed　of　palm　leaves　near　the　fire。
　Sally　began　sorting　the　bundles　of　herbs　and　roots　she　had　collected。
　〃Sally　is　an　herbal　healer；〃　said　Vernon。
　Philip　said；　〃I'd　prefer　an　injection　of　amoxycillin。〃
　〃We　don't　have　any。〃
　Philip　lay　back　on　the　leaves　and　closed　his　eyes。　Tom　doctored　the　sores；　scraping　out　the　necrotic　flesh；　irrigating　and　flushing　out　the　maggots。　Sally　dusted　the　wounds　with　an　herbal　antibiotic　and　bandaged　him　up　with　strips　of　p