The Curious Quests of Brigadier Ffellowes (31 page)

             
"Once more there was silence and I noticed the engine was off and that we were heeling a
little
, obviously under sail. He pulled his thought-reading trick again. 'I speak pretty
fayuh
Maya,
Cap'n
. They tell me I
mus
' be part Maya and
mebbe
so. I don' look like the Hooper men and that help, not
lookin
' so much like a
Bayman
, wit' this thin nose and mouth and all. Anyhow, they talk to me, some of 'em do. I ask a lot about t
h
ese Maya Mountains and the things I notice. Man, do they freeze up! That's bad country in the inside,
fulla
devils! They are bad devils and they steal Maya girls
mebbe
to eat
.
They ain't
nevah
seen again, not
evah
!
They's
a
vurry
few
ol
' men, who can
remembah
times they was told of
befoh
the whites come here. Any whites at
all, Spanish, English or any and that mean any black men too, cause they had black men as slaves. An' these
ol
'
mens
,
onect
in a while, but rare, they would tell me a few things they been
tol
' by their
ol
' men when they little kids. This place we headed now was always the bad place!
Them
ol
'
injuns
they always stay out too even back when they was the
bossmen
of this whole country and the other countries round about like Guatemala an' Mexico too. So what do that tell us,
Cap'n
?' He was silent and waiting and my answer was obvious, as obvious as it must be now to you fellows. 'Old,' I said, 'very old. Whatever makes them afraid of that country has been there a long time indeed, Lucas.' His grunt of assent was loud and clear.

             
"At this point, a bolted hatch on the foredeck was slid open and we both took deep breaths of the gust of fresh air. Whatever the Hooper clan had carried in that little ship, including partly-cured hides, it didn't make for easy breathing with the hatches shut
.

             
"Young George Hooper's head appeared and he hailed us with a smile and told us to come up and relax. We were well out of the river now and sailing South under a gentle breeze, with not another craft of any sort in sight, not even a canoe. So we climbed out and went aft in the sun to the after cockpit
.
There we settled down with Captain Hooper and the two other cousins ran the boat. We began to plan our own moves and coordinate them.

             
"It was obvious that we could not plan too much, since there were so many unknowns in the whole thing. But we did the best we could and as carefully as possible. Then, we simply ran South, aiming for the area where the strange message had been thrown aboard ship in the steaming night
.

             
"For two days and nights we dawdled on, following the coastline and well inside the fringing reefs that lie up to ten miles off that same coast
.
It was work for experts only, since there were plenty of local obstacles, from bars of mud and sand to clumps of local coral heads, floating logs out of
the forest and occasional fishing boats without lights, the latter probably smuggling something. The
Hoopers
had done this trip many
many
times before though and laughed uproariously when I joshed them about their varied cargoes and His Majesty's Revenue Inspectors.

             
"As a cruise for honeymooners, I would fault it
.
The breeze was erratic and never strong and we were close enough to shore for sand flies and mosquitoes to pick us up with ease. We
slapped, swore and smoked steadily. There was nothing else to do.

             
"Eventually at dawn, we arrived, having passed
Stann
Creek in the night where there's a small port whose lights we could see at a distance. When the
Windsor
was anchored, close to where the older man said the message had come, young George Hooper, Lucas
Peyrefitte
and I collected our gear, prepared a spare dinghy which we'd towed for this purpose, and went ashore if you call a healthy mangrove swamp 'shore
'
, which I don't
.
The skipper and the other two were to call back at this point in two days and then in two more days, a job to be repeated until they saw us or a signal from us. Very simple arrangement compared to jobs I had during the war, off the Norwegian coast, say, but it was the best we could do.

             
"We got the dinghy as far up a muddy creek as we could and then had to slog through a lot more mud, plus clouds of stinging bugs, until we finally hit solid ground and collapsed. We had blazed mangrove trees with our machetes as a
backtrail
guide. Now we spit out bugs, wiped the worst mud off with leaves and looked at each other ruefully.

             
"We all had Winchester carbines slung on our shoulders and ammo, in pouches, plus oil and cleaning stuff. All three also had Webley .455 revolvers in flap holsters and full belts as well plus heavy hunting knives and the local machetes. We had full canteens as well and light packs, also shoulder-slung. In the packs were mosquito nets and food, charqui which is dried beef and crude tortillas baked to iron
hardness. Most folk who know nothing of the tropics think being lost is the problem. It's one, but the least thought-of is more dangerous yet
.
Quite simply, thirst
.
Just because you have tons of greenery, that doesn't always mean water, reachable water. In this country, a mixture of sand, dirt limestone and granite, it was even more chancy. Little streams and
b
r
ooks are there and lots of them. But they take finding. Rain is common and heavy as well but it can hold off for weeks at the wrong season, always when you most want it
.

             
"I looked at my team and felt pretty good. George, to my delight had once done a short term in the local 'Territorials
'
, a mob we raised during the war for local defense. Lucas was a hunter and a 'bushman
'
. We were all in tough khaki trousers and shirts, commandeered from the Belize cops by Inspector Plover, my 'link' to the Crown. He had got Army laced boots for us too, just now soaking wet but we had grease to reproof 'em and keep them from cracking. I had a slouch hat
.
my own
shikari
hat from India, but the other two didn't want any or ever wear them. We all had compasses and they could read theirs as well as
I
.
I
had what local maps the Crown had had done, but these were vague and not much use.

             
"Looking at mine, I found that we were, or thought we were, south of a maze of creeks, the largest of which was
labelled
'Jenkins,' named after God knows who. I discussed our position with the others and we set off, bearing West by NW.

             
"There were no trails in this country and Lucas went first me next and George last
.
It was up-and-down trekking, with lots of low ridges, some with bare rock spines protruding. The trees,
Waha
palms, tropical pines and a few
mahoganys
, weren't too tall, except for a rare one but there was lots of low stuff under many of them and a lot was spiny and nasty. Lucas, who knew this stuff best was simply to hold course and pick the clearest path possible.

             
"We soon ran into another blight, one they had warned me of many times. It was tick country and several sizes and types were plentiful, from big black ones to minute red pests. We ignored them
mostly
, and when we stopped for breaks, scraped them off or held lit smokes to the most bloated until they popped bloodily. Mosquitoes were rare, save near water in the low bits, that is, rare by our standards here only. To reinforce them came a nasty group of large, biting flies. I was the chief sufferer, since the two young men seemed to ignore the damn things. Still, I've been in a lot of tropical bush and/or jungle and some was worse. There were at least no leeches.

             
"Actually, had we not been pressing on fast, the country was lovely. On top of sandy ridges, where the pines predominated, one could see a lot, especially as we were climbing steadily as we went inland in our torturous, up-and
-
down path. We saw few animals, save for a rare glimpse of an armadillo and once a tapir clumping away up a wet ravine. Birds were everywhere though, vultures or
zopilotes
sailing over us and lots of
little
things warbling and chirping below, some with very bright colors, other as drab as sparrows.

             
"On one of these ridges, Lucas called a halt and pointed. Far down a series of tangled ridges we could see patches of small corn fields spread over flat country and out of the heavy bush. This was to the North.

             
"Then, he whirled and we looked West
.
Here the summits of much higher, though rounded hills capped the view. 'Maya Mountains
'
, he growled. 'None of these Injun live any closer than those field we
jus
' look over. We in the bad country right now, the land where no one go except to hunt and for not long even then. We
mus
' be careful from now on,
Cap'n
. Already we might be seen.' He paused then and added, 'by
sump'n
,
sump'n
bad.'

             
"When night came, which meant less heat but only a different variety of biting bugs, we camped in a
little
gully,
having found a niche on one side where three smooth rock walls twenty feet high gave us some feeling of protection. There was a tiny stream trickling down the ravine bed so we had water. We grilled our
charaqui
, very good but tough, over one of the cans of American
Sterno
, a thought of mine to bring. It weighed little and though there was a smell of meat perceptible, there was no fire and no
woodsmoke
. The latter can be detected miles away by sensitive noses.

             
"We picked off all the ticks we could find and George and I spread our one-man mosquito nets. We were keeping what the navy calls 'watch on watch' and Lucas had the first round. Then, after four hours, he'd wake me and after my four, I'd get George up. None of us wanted there to be no sentry at any time.

             
"Next day, after a quick meal, varied by an anti-scorbutic, what you men pay for as 'Heart of Palm salad,' or the little growing heads of some small palm trees, we set off West again. It was much the same going, into ravines and up tangled slopes, with breaks only where the pines, now getting fewer, dominated on the sandy ridge tops. Lucas used his machete with great skill and also his experience, and we seldom had to cut any tangles away from in front
.
He was a real bushman, with a keen eye for selecting the best track both for footing and also for the fewest tangles of vegetation.

             
"All day we went on in our usual way, which might be described as being alternate verticals or half verticals, mixed with spirals and right angle shifts. The only constant in the whole mess was the gradual but never-ceasing upward slant
.
In one way and another, we climbed steadily to higher ground. As we paused in the later afternoon for some de-ticking and a
rest on a lofty ridge, I was amazed by a Westward glance. Through the talle
r
and heavier trees, I could see rounded summits, little higher than our own position, though far larger and looking quite close. I mentioned it to the others and they seemed surprised I had just noticed.

             
"Lucas did not look elated and he continually darted
his sharp eyes in every direction, up, down and sideways. 'We is deep in the bad country now,
Suh
, and well in it
.
We keep a good lookout or we never come out
.
Now we be real quiet and we look for a good place to camp, some kin' of place we can't be jump on by
dem
thing what live here.' His voice had lost all of the growl and was now a low, hissing purr. George Hooper, usually a cheery lad, quick to laugh and talk, was also suddenly silent and his seaman's eyes were as wary as the hunter's.