“Hold up the fire,” he said as rapidly as he could into two tubes.
But Ara had already fired and he saw the man slump forward into the mangroves on his knees with his head forward.
He spoke again and said, “Resume fire.” Then he said to Gil, very tiredly, “Put in another one about the same place if you can. Then put in a couple of frags.”
He had had a prisoner. But he had lost him.
After a while he said, “Willie, you and Ara want to have a look?”
“Sure,” Willie said. “But keep some fire on while we go in. I want to go in from the back.”
“Tell Henry what you want. When do you want it off?”
“As soon as we clear the entrance.”
“All right, jungle man,” Thomas Hudson said and for the first time he had time to realize that he was probably going to die.
XXI
He heard the noise of a grenade bursting behind the small ridge. Then there was no more noise and no firing. He leaned heavily on the wheel and he watched the smoke of the grenade thin out in the wind.
“I’m going to take her on through as soon as I see the dinghy,” he said to Gil.
He felt Antonio’s arm around him and heard him say, “You lie down, Tom. I’m taking her.”
“All right,” he said and he took a last look down the narrow, green-banked river. The water was brown but clear and the tide was flowing strong.
Gil and Antonio helped him to lie down on the planking of the bridge. Then Antonio took the wheel. He went astern a little more to hold her against the tide and Thomas Hudson could feel the sweet rhythm of the big motors.
“Loosen the tourniquet a little,” he said to Gil.
“We’ll get the air mattress,” Gil said.
“I like it on the deck,” Thomas Hudson said. “I think it is better if I don’t move much.”
“Get a cushion under his head,” Antonio said. He was looking down the channel.
In a little while he said, “They’re waving us in, Tom,” and Thomas Hudson felt the motors go ahead and the ship slide forward.
“Anchor her as soon as we’re out of the channel.”
“Yes, Tom. Don’t talk.”
Henry came up and took the wheel and the controls when they anchored. Now that they were in the open again, Thomas Hudson felt her swing into the wind.
“There’s lots of water in here, Tom,” Henry said.
“I know. All the way to Caibarién and the two channels are clear and well marked.”
“Please don’t talk, Tom. Just lie quiet.”
“Have Gil get a light blanket.”
“I’ll get it. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much, Tommy.”
“It hurts,” Thomas Hudson said. “But not too bad. It doesn’t hurt any worse than things hurt that you and I have shot together.”
“Here’s Willie,” Henry said.
“You old son of a bitch,” said Willie. “Don’t talk. There were four in there with the guide. It was the main party. Then there was the one Ara got by mistake. He feels awful about it when you wanted a prisoner so much. He’s crying and I told him to stay below. He just loosed off like anybody would.”
“What did you throw the grenade at?”
“Just a place I didn’t like the look of. Don’t you talk, Tom.”
“You have to go back and detrap that hulk.”
“We’re going right away and we’ll check the other place. I wish the Christ we had a speed boat. Tommy, those goddam fire extinguishers are better than an .81mm mortar.”
“Not the same range.”
“What the hell we want with range? That Gil was throwing them into a bushel basket.”
“Get going.”
“How bad are you, Tommy?”
“Pretty bad.”
“Think you can make it?”
“I’m going to try.”
“Keep perfectly still. Don’t move for anything.”
They were not gone long but it seemed a long time to Thomas Hudson. He lay on his back in the shade of a canopy Antonio had rigged for him. Gil and George had unlaced the canvas from the windward side of the flying bridge and the wind came fresh and friendly. It was not as strong as it had been yesterday but it was steady from the east and the clouds were high and thin. The sky was the blue sky of the eastern part of the island where the trades blow strongest and Thomas Hudson lay and watched it and tried to hold his pain in control. He had refused the hypodermic of morphine that Henry had brought him because he thought he might still have to think. He knew he could always take it later on.