pdouglas.thecodex-第32部分

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hen　reprovisioning　of　the　boat；　holding　back　the　supplies　they　would　need　for　their　journey。
　〃We　may　be　gone　for　two　or　three　days；〃　Don　Alfonso　said。　〃We　must　prepare　to　spend　several　nights　in　the　dugout。　There　might　be　rain。〃
　〃No　kidding；〃　said　Sally。
　Tom　handed　Sally　the　monkey。　〃Take　care　of　him　while　I'm　gone；　okay？〃
　〃Of　course。〃
　The　boat　pulled　away。　Tom　watched　her　in　the　pouring　rain；　a　dim　figure　growing　dimmer。　〃Tom；　please　take　care　of　yourself；〃　she　called；　just　as　her　figure　vanished。
　Chori　poled　strongly　down　the　channel；　the　unburdened　boat　moving　swiftly。　Five　minutes　later　Tom　heard　a　screeching　noise　in　the　branches　above　the　boat；　and　a　little　black　ball　came　bouncing　from　branch　to　branch　and　finally　shot　out　of　an　overhead　tree　and　landed　on　his　head；　shrieking　like　a　lost　soul。　It　was　Hairy　Bugger。
　〃You　rascal；　you　didn't　wait　long　to　escape；〃　said　Tom；　taking　the　tiny　monkey　back　into　his　pocket；　where　he　snuggled　down　and　instantly　fell　silent。
　The　dugout　pushed　deeper　into　the　rain…rotten　swamp。
　
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　The　storm　reached　a　climax　of　fury　as　their　dugout　reached　the　channel　to　the　Black　Place。　Flashes　of　lightning　and　bursts　of　thunder　echoed　through　the　forest；　sometimes　ing　only　seconds　apart；　like　an　artillery　barrage。　The　tops　of　the　trees；　two　hundred　feet　above　their　heads；　shook　and　thrashed。
　The　channel　soon　divided　into　a　maze　of　shallow　waterways　winding　amid　shivery　expanses　of　stinking　mud。　Don　Alfonso　stopped　from　time　to　time　to　check　for　pole　marks　in　the　shallow　bottom。　The　drenching　rain　never　let　up；　and　night　came　so　imperceptibly　that　Tom　was　startled　when　Don　Alfonso　called　a　halt。
　〃We　will　sleep　in　the　dugout　like　savages；〃　Don　Alfonso　said。　〃Here　is　a　good　place　to　stop　as　there　are　no　thick　branches　above　us。　I　do　not　want　to　wake　up　to　the　rotten　smell　of　jaguar　breath。　We　must　take　care　not　to　die　here；　Tomasito；　for　our　souls　would　never　find　their　way　out。〃
　〃I'll　do　my　best。〃
　Tom　bundled　himself　in　his　mosquito　netting；　found　a　place　in　their　heap　of　gear；　and　tried　to　go　to　sleep。　The　rain　finally　ceased；　but　he　was　still　soaked　to　the　skin。　The　jungle　was　filled　with　the　sound　of　dripping　water；　punctuated　with　the　cries　and　moans　and　gasping　shrieks　of　animals；　some　of　which　seemed　almost　human。　Maybe　they　were　human；　the　lost　souls　Don　Alfonso　had　talked　about。　Tom　thought　of　his　brother　Vernon；　lost　in　this　swamp；　sick　perhaps；　maybe　even　dying。　He　remembered　him　as　a　boy　who　always　had　a　hopeful；　friendly；　and　perpetually　lost　look　on　his　face。　He　subsided　into　a　troubled　night　of　dreams。
　They　found　the　dead　body　the　next　day。　It　was　floating　in　the　water；　a　hump　with　red　and　white　stripes。　Chori　poled　toward　it。　The　hump　turned　out　to　be　a　wet　shirt　inflated　with　the　gases　of　deposition。　As　the　dugout　approached；　a　cloud　of　angry　flies　rose　up。
　Carefully；　Chori　brought　the　dugout　alongside。　A　dozen　dead　piranhas　floated　around　the　corpse；　their　goggle　eyes　filmed　over；　their　mouths　open。　The　rain　drizzled　down。
　The　hair　was　short　and　black。　It　was　not　Vernon。
　Don　Alfonso　said　something；　and　Chori　prodded　the　body　with　a　pole。　The　gas　escaped　from　under　the　wet　shirt　with　a　blabbering　sound；　and　there　was　a　foul　smell。　Chori　placed　the　pole　under　the　corpse　and；　using　the　bottom　as　a　fulcrum　point；　heaved　it　over。　The　flies　roared　up。　The　water　boiled　and　flashed　with　silver　as　the　fish　that　had　been　feasting　underneath　the　body　darted　away　in　fright。
　Tom　stared　with　shock　at　the　body；　now　face　up　in　the　water；　if　〃face　up〃　could　even　describe　it。　Piranhas　had　eaten　the　face　off　along　with　the　entire　ventral　side　of　the　body；　leaving　only　the　bones。　The　nose　had　been　chewed　down　to　a　withered　piece　of　cartilage；　the　lips　and　tongue　were　gone；　the　mouth　a　hole。　A　minnow；　trapped　in　an　eye　socket；　thrashed　about；　trying　to　escape。　The　smell　of　deposition　hit　him　like　a　wet　rag。　The　water　began　to　swirl　as　the　fish　began　to　work　on　the　fresh　side。　Bits　of　cloth　from　the　shirt　floated　to　the　surface。
　〃It　is　one　of　those　boys　from　Puerto　Lempira；〃　said　Don　Alfonso。　〃He　was　bitten　by　a　poisonous　snake　while　clearing　this　brush。　They　left　him　here。〃
　〃How　do　you　know　he　was　killed　by　a　snake？〃　Tom　asked。
　〃You　see　the　dead　piranhas？　Those　are　the　ones　who　ate　the　flesh　in　the　area　of　the　snakebite。　They　were　poisoned；　and　the　animals　that　eat　them　will　also　be　poisoned。〃
　Chori　pushed　the　body　away　with　the　pole；　and　they　paddled　on。
　〃This　is　not　a　good　place　to　die。　We　must　get　out　of　here　before　nightfall。　I　do　not　want　to　meet　that　Lempira　man's　ghost　in　a　dream　tonight；　asking　me　for　directions。〃
　Tom　did　not　answer。　The　sight　of　the　corpse　had　left　him　shaken。　He　tried　to　fight　down　a　sense　of　foreboding。　Vernon；　who　was　panicky　and　disorganized　to　begin　with；　would　be　a　basket　case。　God　knows；　he　might　even　be　dead；　too。
　〃Why　they　do　not　turn　around　and　leave　this　place；　I　cannot　say。　Perhaps　a　demon　has　gotten　in　the　dugout　with　them　and　is　whispering　lies　into　their　ears。〃
　They　continued　on；　making　slow　work　of　it。　The　swamp　was　endless；　the　boat　grazing　the　muddy　bottom　and　frequently　getting　stuck；　forcing　them　to　get　out　and　push。　Often　they　had　to　double　back　again　and　again；　following　tortuous　channels。　Toward　midafternoon；　Don　Alfonso　held　up　his　hand；　Chori　stopped　paddling；　and　they　listened。　Tom　could　hear　a　distant　voice；　distraught…someone　crying　hysterically　for　help。
　Tom　leapt　to　his　feet　and　cupped　his　hands。　〃Vernon！〃
　There　was　a　sudden　silence。
　〃Vernon！　It's　me；　Tom！〃
　There　was　a　burst　of　desperate　shouting　that　echoed　through　the　trees；　distorted　and　unintelligible。
　〃It's　him；〃　said　Tom。　〃Hurry。〃
　Chori　paddled　forward；　and　soon　Tom　could　see　the　vague　outlines　of　a　dugout　canoe　in　twilight　of　the　swamp。　A　person　was　in　the　bow；　screaming　and　gesturing。　It　was　Vernon。　He　was　hysterical；　but　at　least　he　was　standing。
　〃Faster！〃　Tom　cried。
　Chori　pushed　ahead。　They　reached　the　boat；　and　Tom　pulled　Vernon　into　their　own。
　Vernon　collapsed　into　his　brother's　arms。　〃Tell　me　I'm　not　dead；〃　he　cried。
　〃You're　okay；　you're　not　dead。　We're　here　now。〃
　Vernon　broke　down　sobbing。　Tom；　clasping　his　brother；　had　a　sudden　sense　of　déjà　vu；　the　memory　of　a　time　when　Vernon　came　home　one　day　after　school；　having　been　chased　by　a　gang　of　bullies。　He　threw　himself　into　Tom's　arms　the　same　way；　clutching　and　sobbing　hysterically；　his　skinny　body　shaking。　Tom　had　had　to　go　out　there　and　fight　them　himself…Tom；　the　younger　brother；　fighting　his　older　brother's　fights。
　〃It's　okay；〃　said　Tom。　〃It's　okay。　We're　here。　You're　safe。〃
　〃Thank　God。　Thank　God。　I　was　sure　the　end　had　e　。。。〃　His　voice　trailed　away　into　a　choke。
　Tom　helped　Vernon　sit。　He　was　shocked　at　his　brother's　appearance。　His　face　and　neck　were　swollen　with　bites　and　stings　and　smeared　with　blood　from　scratching。　His　clothes　were　indescribably　filthy；　his　hair　was　tangled　and　foul；　and　he　was　even　skinnier　than　usual。
　〃Are　you　okay？〃　Tom　asked。
　Vernon　nodded。　〃Aside　from　being　eaten　alive　I'm　all　right。　Just　scared。〃　Vernon　wiped　his　face　with　a　filthy　sleeve　that　left　more　dirt　than　it　removed　and　choked　another　sob。
　Tom　took　a　moment　to　look　at　his　brother。　His　mental　state　worried　him　even　more　than　his　physical　state。　As　soon　as　they　got　back　to　camp；　he　would　send　Vernon　back　to　civilization　with　Pingo。
　〃Don　Alfonso；〃　Tom　said；　〃let's　turn　the　boat　around　and　get　out　of　here。〃
　〃But　the　Teacher；〃　Vernon　said。
　Tom　stopped。　〃The　Teacher？〃
　Vernon　nodded　toward　the　dugout。　〃Sick。〃
　Tom　leaned　over　and　peered　down。　There；　lying　in　a　sodden　sleeping　bag　in　the　bottom　of　the　canoe；　almost　hidden　among　the　mess　of　equipment　and　soggy　supplies；　was　the　swollen　face　of　a　man；　with　a　wild　head　of　white　hair　and　a　beard。　He　was　fully　conscious　and　stared　back　up　at　Tom　with　baleful　blue　eyes；　saying　nothing。
　〃Who's　this？〃
　〃My　Teacher　from　the　Ashram。〃
　〃What　the　hell　is　he　doing　here？〃
　〃We're　together。〃
　The　man　stared　up　at　Tom　fixedly。
　〃What's　wrong　with　him？〃
　〃He's　got　a　fever。　He　stopped　speaking　two　days　ago。
　Tom　pulled　the　medicine　chest　out　of　their　supplies　an