“Shucks, it’s jest a knack,” Chow said modestly. “When you’ve branded as many bulls as I have, there’s nothin’ to it.”
One plump village woman squeezed Chow’s arm. “Oni dya!” she murmured admiringly.
“She says you are brave man,” put in Akomo. Smiling, he added, “She has no husband. I think she would like to marry you.”
Chow blushed, then turned pale with fright.
“They’d make a swell pair,” Bud whispered loudly. “Just about the same size and weight.”
“Now you hush up, Buddy boy!” Chow roared, as the other Americans exploded with laughter.
Soon the supplies and equipment were safely stowed aboard the pirogues. Tom exchanged a final handshake with Hank Sterling, who, with two crewmen, would remain to guard the Sky Queen.
“Take care, skipper,” Hank warned.
“Right. You do the same,” Tom replied. “We should be back in a few days.
Meantime, keep the ship’s radio tuned for reports.”
A few minutes later they took their places in the dugout canoes-Tom and Bud in the lead
CRAZY LAUGHTER 61
boat with Akomo; Chow and Creel in the other. With shouted farewells, the villagers helped the men shove off into midstream.
Paddles dipped and flashed as the pirogues shot forward through the muddy green water. Clumps of oil palms, mangroves, and bamboo fringed the banks. The oarsmen, muscles rippling in the hot sunshine, soon glistened with perspiration.
Presently the river wound its way into denser vegetation and Imbolu was lost to view. Ahead loomed the Ngombian rain forest-green, somber, and mysterious.
“Makes you wonder what’s waiting for us in there,” Bud murmured.