River of Death

'What's that supposed to mean?' Smith tried to sound blustery but his heart wasn't in it, his ego had been too severely dented.

'Just this. If they get as much as a foothold on this island the first thing they'll do is to set fire to the undergrowth and roast you alive in this metal coffin.'

There was a silence that lasted until Hamilton, Ramon and Navarro had left the helicopter.

Ramon, the first to touch the ground, had his rifle on the nearest alligator immediately but the precaution proved needless: both alligators immediately turned and scuttled away into the undergrowth.

Hamilton said: 'Just keep an eye on our backs, Ramon.' Ramon nodded. Hamilton and Navarro moved towards the rear, took shelter behind the tail of the helicopter and looked cautiously ashore.

A squat, powerfully built Indian dressed in a pink feather head-dress, teeth necklace, a series of arm bracelets and little else — definitely the chief — was ordering warriors into half-a-dozen canoes. He himself was standing on the bank.

Navarro looked at Hamilton, his reluctance plain. He said: 'No choice?'

With equal regret Hamilton agreed, shaking his head. Navarro lifted his rifle, aimed and fired in one swift motion. The report of the rifle momentarily paralysed all activity on the bank. Only the chief moved: he cried out in pain and clutched his upper right arm. A second later, while the warriors were still immobilised in shock, another report was heard and another warrior struck in precisely the same place. Navarro was clearly a marksman of the most extraordinary accuracy.

Navarro said: 'Not nice, Senor Hamilton.'

'Not nice. As the old saying goes, it's people like us who have made people like them what they are. But this is hardly the time and place to explain that to them.'

Ashore the warriors rapidly abandoned their canoes and ran for the shelter of their huts and the forest, taking the two wounded men with them. From those shelters they could be seen almost immediately drawing bows and lifting blowpipes to their mouths. Hamilton and Navarro prudently dropped behind cover as arrows and darts rattled and rebounded harmlessly off the fuselage. Navarro shook his head in sorrow and wonderment. 'I’il bet they've never even heard a rifle report before. It is something less than a fair contest, Senor Hamilton.'

Hamilton nodded, but made no comment for comment would have been superfluous. He said: 'That's all for now. I don't think they'll try anything again before dark. But I'll keep watch — or arrange for others to do it. Meantime, you and

Ramon get rid of our four-legged friends and the creepy-crawlies. Try to chase them away, shoo them away. If you have to shoot, for goodness sake don't do it by the water's edge or in the water. Bath-time tonight and I don't want to attract every piranha for miles around.'

Hamilton reboarded the helicopter. Tracy said: 'That was quite a hailstorm out there. Arrows and darts, I assume?'

'Didn't you see?'

'I wasn't too keen on looking. I'm sure those windows are made of toughened glass but I wasn't going to be the one to put them to the test. Poisoned?'

'Certainly. But, almost equally certainly, no curare, nothing lethal. They have a less final but equally effective poison that merely stuns. Too much curare affects the flavour of the stew.'

Smith said sourly: 'You certainly have a' summary way of dealing with the opposition.'

'I should have parleyed with them? The brightly coloured beads approach? Why don't you go and try it?' Smith said nothing. 'If you have any futile suggestions to offer, I suggest you either translate them into action or shut up. There's a limit to the number of niggling remarks a man can take.'

Silver, his face bandaged, intervened pacifically. 'And now?'

'A lovely long siesta until dusk. For me, that is. I shall have to ask you to take turns in keeping watch. Not only the village, but as far upstream and downstream as you can see — the Chapate might contemplate launching a canoe attack at some distance from their village although I consider it highly unlikely. If anything happens, let me know. Ramon and Navarro should be back in twenty minutes; don't bother letting me know.'

Tracy said: 'You place a great deal of faith in your lieutenants.'

'Total.'

Smith said: 'So we keep awake while you sleep. Why?'

'Recharging my batteries for the night ahead.'

'And then?'

Hamilton sighed. 'This helicopter, obviously, will never be airborne again so we have to find some other means of rejoining the hovercraft, which I reckon must be about thirty miles downstream. We can't go by land. It would take us days to hack our way down there and, anyway, the Chapate would get us before we covered a mile. We need a boat. So we'll borrow one from the Chapate. There's a nice, big and very ancient motor launch moored to the bank there. Not their property for a certainty: the original owners were probably eaten long ago. And the engine will be a solid block of rust and quite useless. But we don't need power to go downstream.'

Tracy said: 'And how do you propose we — ah — obtain this boat, Mr Hamilton?'

'I’il get it. After sunset.' He smiled faintly. 'That's why I intend recharging my batteries in advance.'

Smith said: 'You really do have to be a hero, Hamilton, don't you?'

'And you'll really never learn, will you? No, I don't have to be a hero. I don't want to be a hero. You can go instead. You be the hero. Go on. Volunteer. Impress your girl-friend.'

Smith slowly unclenched his fists and turned away. Hamilton sat and appeared to compose himself for slumber, oblivious of the dead Heffner laid now across the aisle from him. The others looked at one another in silence.

It was many hours later, at dusk, when Hamilton said: 'Everything packed? Guns, ammunition, last night's overnight bags, food, water, medicines. And Silver, the chopper's two compasses might come in handy.'

Silver indicated a box by his feet. 'They're already in there.'

'Excellent.' Hamilton looked around him. 'Well, that seems to be all. Heigh-ho, I think.'

'What do you mean, that seems to be all?' Smith said. He nodded towards the dead Heffner. 'How about him?'

'Well, how about him?'

'You going to leave him here?'

'That's up to you.' Hamilton spoke with an almost massive indifference. He did not have to spell out his meaning. Smith turned and stumbled, down the helicopter steps.

At the downstream end of the island, only Navarro, of all the party, was absent. In the gathering darkness Hamilton again checked all the various packs. He seemed satisfied.

'There will be a moon,' he said, 'but it will be too late to save us. Moonrise is in about two and a half hours. When they attack — there's no "if" about it — it must be inside those two and a half hours, which means it could be any time now although I should guess that they'll wait a bit until it is as dark as possible. Ramon, join Navarro now. If they attack before you get my signal, hold them off as best you can for as long as you can. If my signal comes first, get back here at once. Tracy?'

Tracy said: 'I can tell you, I haven't been too happy here for the past hour. No, no alligators. No sign. Not a ripple. No gun?'

'Guns make noises. Guns get wet.'

Maria shivered and pointed to his big sheath knife. 'And that does neither?'

'Sometimes the first blow doesn't kill. Then there can be a lot of noise. But no heroics. I don't expect to have to use it. If I do, it means I've botched my job.'

Hamilton looked out across the river. The darkness had now so deepened that the shoreline was no more than a dimly seen blur. He checked that the coil of rope, the waterproof torch and the sheath knife were securely attached to his waist, walked noiselessly into the river and then slowly, silently, began to swim.

The water was warm, the current was gentle and around him he could see nothing but the calm dark water. Suddenly, he stopped swimming, trod water and stared ahead. He could see what he imagined to be a tiny ripple in the black smoothness without being able to see what caused it. His right hand came clear of the water, clenched round the haft of his sheath knife. The tiny ripple was still there but even as he strained to watch it, it disappeared. Hamilton replaced the knife in its sheath. He wasn't the first person to have mistaken a drifting log for a crocodile, a considerably healthier position than the other way round. He resumed his silent swimming.