Once again he began scratching his shins, more fiercely than before; I noticed in the firelight the coloring of his skin had darkened, and that the flesh was agitated and raw. He nodded his head at my curious expression and told me, ‘Something I did not account for, it’s true. I knew the formula to be caustic, but I had assumed it would do no harm once diluted in the river. In the future we should equip ourselves with a kind of covering for our feet and ankles.’ Morris called to him from the tent and Warm excused himself; when he returned he wore a grim face and confided in us that Morris was having some difficulty acclimating himself to life out of doors. ‘God knows I am indebted to him, but you should have seen his face when I forced him to leave his powders and scents in San Francisco. How he made it to California from Oregon City carrying all those bottles and boxes is beyond me.’
‘How is his arm?’ I asked.
‘The bullet only nicked him, and he is in no danger that I can see, but morale-wise he is doing poorly. Your both being here is weighing on his mind, and his legs are bothering him, more than mine, even. But you said something about medicine? It would put him at ease, I think, your making good on the offer of help.’
Charlie sent me back to our camp to collect our effects while he and Warm hammered out the final details of the consortium. When I returned with Nimble, weighed down with both our saddles and baggage, Charlie had dragged the three dead brothers nearer the fire, which I understood at once but which Warm, standing by, could not fathom. ‘Would it not be best to haul them into the forest?’ he said. ‘I should not like to look at their faces in the morning.’
‘The sun will never shine upon them,’ Charlie answered, and he pulled one of the men directly over top of the flames.
‘What are you doing?’ said Warm.
‘How are you fixed for lamp oil?’
Now Warm understood. He fetched his supply of oil, and I in turn gave him the alcohol and numbing medicine. He left to tend to Morris while I assisted Charlie in disposing of the corpses. We coated them head to foot in the oil and they were soon all three of them burning exultantly, their bodies stacked and blackened at the base of the blaze and I thought, So much for the calmer life. Warm’s face appeared at the entrance of the tent to watch the gruesome spectacle. He looked sad. After a time he said, to no one, ‘I have had enough of this day, today.’ His head disappeared, and I was alone once more with my brother.
Watching him roll out his blankets, I wished to ask him what was in his heart just then, for I wanted so badly to trust him, that he had at last made a moral decision, but I could not think of the correct words to say, and I was fearful of what the answer might be, and besides that I was spent, and just as soon as I laid my head on the ground I dropped into the most impenetrable kind of dreamless, leaden sleep.
Chapter 50
When I awoke, the sun was upon my face, the river sound was in my ears, and Charlie was not beside me. Warm stood stiffly over the bonfire ash pile, a long stick in his hand, half raised as though set to strike. He pointed out the gray-black skull of one of the dead brothers and said, ‘See it? Now, watch.’ He tapped the top of the skull and the entire visage collapsed to dust. ‘There is your civilized man’s last reward.’ His words had an embittered edge to them, so that I was moved to ask, ‘You are not the God-fearing sort, Warm?’
‘I am not. And I hope you aren’t, either.’
‘I don’t know if I am.’
‘You are afraid of hell. But that’s all religion is, really. Fear of a place we’d rather not be, and where there’s no such a thing as suicide to steal us away.’
I thought, Why did I bring up God so soon after waking? Warm returned his attentions to the ash pile. ‘I suppose the brain cooks down to nothing?’ he mused. ‘The heat converts it to water, which then evaporates. Just a slip of smoke and away floats the precious organ onto the breeze.’
‘Where is Charlie?’
‘He and Morris went to have a swim.’ Warm found another skull and likewise tapped and collapsed it.
‘They went together?’ I asked.
Looking upriver, he said, ‘Morris was complaining about his legs and your brother said he thought a dip might soothe the burning.’
‘How long ago did they leave?’
‘Half an hour.’ Warm shrugged.
‘Will you take me to them?’
He said he would. He was not alarmed and I did not wish to alarm him but I tried to hurry him along as much as possible, acting as though I were overheated and ready for a swim myself. Warm was not a man who liked to rush, however; in fact he appeared to insist upon stopping and dissecting most every little thing. Pulling on his boots, he wondered, ‘What do you imagine happened to the first man who wrapped his bare feet in leaves or leather, to protect himself? Likely he was pushed from the tribe, emasculated.’ He laughed. ‘He was probably showered with stones and killed!’ I had nothing to add to this, but Warm did not need any reply from me, and he continued his speech as we set off upriver: ‘Of course in those times people’s feet were covered in the very toughest calluses, so the desire for footwear was likely more for appearance than comfort or necessity, at least in the warmer climates.’ He pointed out an eagle flying nearby; when the bird swung down and collected a heavy fish from the river, Warm applauded.
His legs were troubling him and I offered my arm, which he took, with thanks. The sand was soft and deep and he asked me once and then again if we might rest, and though I was loath to hesitate anymore than was necessary, I was also hesitant to explain my reasons for hurrying. But Warm deduced it; he chuckled and asked me, ‘You do not trust your brother completely, do you?’ In the context of our tentative business alliance, and because Charlie was currently alone with Warm’s weakened comrade, here was a serious question, and yet his expression spoke only of amusement, as though we were engaging in the lightest type of town gossip.
‘He is a difficult one to pin down,’ came my sideways answer.
‘Morris, I think, actually despised your brother before your helping us last night. And yet this morning they were walking arm in arm. What do you make of it?’
‘I don’t know what to say, other than it is out of character for him.’
‘You do not think his assistance is wholesome?’
‘I am surprised to hear it, is all.’
Warm paused to scratch at his shins, and I could see his skin had become considerably darker, with blisters beginning to bloom upward toward the kneecap. His scratching grew more furious, so that he fairly shredded his own flesh with his fingernails; I believe he was frustrated about the formula acting as an irritant, and thus marring the beauty of his plans. At last he fell to slapping his legs to quiet the maddening itch, and this seemed to bring him some relief. Straightening his pant legs, he asked me, ‘But you don’t really think Charlie would kill old Morris, do you?’
‘I do not know. I hope not.’ He put his arm on mine and we continued upstream. I said, ‘I’ll admit it feels unusual to speak this way with you.’
He shook his head. ‘Best to keep it out in the open, as far as I’m concerned. And isn’t it already? And really, what can Morris and I do about it? We would rather you and your brother not kill us, but we’re at your mercy more or less, aren’t we?’
‘It’s quite a group you’ve assembled, Warm.’
Gravely, he said, ‘Dodgy, isn’t it. A dandy and two infamous murderers.’