Needless to say, Bill van Hyatt had come up with a theory.
“We’re not too far from the Equator,” he assured Duncan, passing on his way to the fire with an armful of wood. “Probably a couple of thousand meters above sea level, or it would be even warmer. Judging by the
distance we must’ have flown, this could be somewhere in Indonesia.” ‘~But wouldn’t it be daylight there?” asked Duncan, somewhat uncertainly.
He did not want to reveal his ignorance of geographical details, but he had a vague idea that Indonesia was almost as far from Washington as one could get. And the one fact of which they were sure was that they had left late in the afternoon.
“Look at the sky,” said Bill confidently. “It soon will be sunrise. Very quick in the tropics-you know, where the dawn comes up like thunder.”
An hour later, however, there was not the slightest sign of the dawn, but no one except Bill van Hyatt seemed to worry in the least. A loud and happy campfire party was in progress, consuming food and drink in amazing quantities. Almost equally amazing was the speed with which forty perfect strangers could become intimate friends. Duncan would never have recognized this uninhibited and noisy group as Terrans. Though he still felt a little apart from the scene, he enjoyed watching it and wandering round the circle listening to the discussions in progress. He was also surprised to discover how much he could eat; something seemed to have happened to his appetite.
And there were some splendid wines-all new to him, of course, so it was necessary to do a great deal of research to discover which he liked best.
Presently, singing started, led by an Enigma staff member whose voice-and repertoire-were so professional that he had obviously been selected for this role. In a very short time, he had the whole group rocking and stomping, and joining in choruses describing events most of which were wholly unfamiliar to Duncan. Some seemed to be tragic, though he judged this by the musical treatment rather than the words. He was not quite sure what fate had befallen Darling Clementine, but that song was crystal clear compared with one recounting the exploits of Waltzing Matilda. He listened for a few minutes in -utter bafflement, then drifted away from the circle of firelight into the semidarkness.
“It’s perfectly safe to go as far as the trees,” Boss had said. “But
if you go into them, we can accept no responsibility whatsoever, and the indemnity clause of our contract comes into force.”
Duncan would probably not have traveled even as far as this without the encouragement of the wine but presently he was standing about fifty meters from the edge of the forest, and a considerably greater distance from the songsters. The illumination was roughly that of a cloudy night on Titan, when Saturn was in its crescent phase. Thus he could see general outlines, but no fine detail.
The trees were large and impressive, and he guessed that they were very old. Somehow, he had expected to see the slender palms which were the universal symbol of Earth’s tropics-but to his disappointment, there was not a palm in sight. The trees were not very different from those at Mount
Vernon; then he remembered van Hyatt’s suggestion that they might be well above sea level, where the climate was mild.
Duncan’s chemical courage was beginning to desert him; the thrill of standing at the edge of the unknown was rapidly losing its novelty. He turned back toward the now dwindling glow of the bonfire, from which stragglers were slowly departing as they headed to the tents, but had taken no more than a dozen paces when the sound from the forest rooted him to the spot.
Never in his life had he heard anything remotely resembling it. Only a soul in the lowest circle of hell could have produced the wail of anguish that burst from the trees and instantly quenched the festivities at the campsite. It rose and fell, rose and fell, then ululated away into silence.
But even in that first moment of sheer terror, when Duncan felt the strength ebb from his limbs, he found himself feeling thankful that at least no human throat could have produced that awful sound.
Then the paralysis left him, and he was already halfway back to the camp before he remembered that he was unable to run. Deliberately slowing down was one of the bravest things he had ever done especially
when that nightmare howl echoed once more from the forest. When he reached the tents, Boss was still trying to restore morale.
“Just some wild animal,” he explained soothingly. “After the noise we’ve been making, I’m surprised everything has been so quiet until now.”
“What kind of animal, for heaven’s sakel” someone expostulated.
“Ask Mr. van Hyatt-he seems to have all the answers.19
Bill van Hyatt was completely unabashed, and ready as ever to accept the challenge.
“It sounded like a hyena to me,” he replied. “I’ve never actually heard one, but it fits the descriptions I’ve read.”
“I don’t see how anyone could describe that,” somobody muttered.
“Hyenas live in Africa, don’t they?” said another voice. “Anyway, they’re quite harmless.”
“Personally, I don1 consider death from heart failure harmless.”
“All right, all right,” Boss interjected. “We’ve a busy day ahead of us.
It’s time to go to bed.”
Everyone glanced at absent wrist watches, but no confirmation of this fact was really needed. The camp slowly settled down for the night.
Despite maneuverings that had barely stopped short of actual rudeness,
Duncan had been unable to avoid sharing a tent with the van Hyatts. Just before he dozed off, he heard Bill remark sleepily to his wife: “I’ve just remembered-the program said that hard hats would be provided. I wonder why?”
“Because Bill,” said another voice from the darkness, “tomorrow we explore the caves of the maneating vampire bats of Bongo Bongo. Now
for heaven’s sake shut up and go to sleep.”
PRIMEVAL FOREST
TDuncan’s surprise, it was already full daylight when he awoke. He decided that the wine must have been responsible, and even wondered if it had been drugged, for all his companions were still sleeping stertorously.
He rolled off the air mattress, and treading carefully over unconscious bodies, opened the flap of the tent. The glare drove him back for his dark glasses, for the sun was now shining from a blue, cloudless sky. As he walked to the portable shower, carrying towel and toothbrush, he scanned the circle of trees. In broad daylight, they seemed much less ominous; but with that infernal howl still echoing in his memory, nothing would have induced Duncan to venture there alone. For that matter, he was not quite sure how many companions he would need to give him any sense of security in the forest-but unless the jet returned for them, that was precisely where they would have to go. At one point he could see what looked like the beginning of a jungle trail, though from this distance it was impossible to tell whether it was made by men or animals. Nothing else was visible; the trees were so high, and so thick, that there could have been a range of mountains a few kilometers away, completely hidden from view.
Duncan ran into Boss on the way back from his toilet. The fearless leader looked as if he could use some extra sleep, but otherwise still seemed in full charge of the situation.
“Did you put something in that wine?” Duncan asked, after they had exchanged greetings. “Usually I dream-but last night..
Boss grinned. “Don’t expect me to reveal all Enigma’s little secrets. But in this case, we’ve nothing to hide. You can thank the natural, open-air life for your good night’s sleep-though the wine probably helped. Now let’s wake up the others.”