Bruce sat on the bonnet of the Ranchero and sucked hard on his
cigarette, trying to get the taste of death from his mouth.
'They probably swam downstream during the night and climbed the supports
of the bridge. Kanaki and his boys wouldn't have known anything about it
until they came over the sides.' He drew on the cigarette again and
trickled the smoke out of his nostrils, fumigating
the back of his throat and his nasal passages. 'I should have thought of
that. I should have warned Kanaki of that.'
'You mean they ate all ten of them - Jesus!' even Wally Hendry was
impressed. 'I'd like to have a look at that beach.
It must be quite something.'
'Good!' Bruce's voice was suddenly
harsh. 'I'll put you in charge of the burial squad. You can go down
there and clean it up before we start work on the bridge.' And Wally did
not argue.
'You want me to do it now?' he asked.
'No,' snapped Bruce. 'You and Ruffy are going to take two of the trucks
back to Port Reprieve and fetch the materials we need to repair the
bridge.' They both looked at Bruce with rising delight.
'I never thought of that,' said Wally.
'There's plenty of roofing timber in the hotel and the office block,'
grinned Ruffy.
'Nails,' said Wally as though he were making a major contribution.
'We'll need nails.' Bruce cut through their comments. 'It's two o'clock
now. You can get back to Port Reprieve by nightfall, collect the
material tomorrow morning and return here by the evening. Take those two
trucks there. - check to see they're full of gas and you'll
need about fifteen men.
Say, five gendarmes, in case of trouble, and ten of those civilians.'
'That should be enough,' agreed Ruffy.
'Bring a couple of dozen sheets of corrugated iron back with you.
We'll use them to make a shield to protect us from arrows while we're
working.'
'Yeah, that's a good idea.' They settled the details, picked men to go
back, loaded the trucks, worked them out of the laager, and
Bruce watched them disappear down the road towards Port Reprieve. An
ache started deep behind his eyes and suddenly he was very tired,
drained of energy by too little sleep, by the heat and by the emotional
pace of the last four days.
He made one last circuit of the laager, checking the defences, chatting
for a few minutes with his gendarmes and then he stumbled to the Ford,
slid on to the front seat, laid his helmet and rifle aside, lowered his
head on to his arms and was instantly asleep.
Shermaine woke him after dark with food unheated from the cans and a
bottle of Ruffy's beer.
'I'm sorry, Bruce, we have no fire to cook upon. It is very unappetizing
and the beer is warm.' Bruce sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Six hours' sleep had helped; they were less swollen and inflamed. The
headache was still there.
