"His men are not to be whipped."
"That's fair enough," said O'Grady.
"But how are you going to prevent it?"
"For one thing, I'll throw the whip away; for another, I'll tell Orman we'll all quit him if he doesn't lay off. I can't understand him; he never was like this before. I've worked with him a lot during the last five years."
"Too much liquor," said White; "it's finally got him."
"He'll be all right when we get on location and get to work. He's been worrying too much. Once we get through this Bansuto country everything'll be jake."
"We're not through it yet, Pat. They'll get some more of us tomorrow and some more the next day. I don't know how the blacks will stand it. It's a bad business. We really ought to turn around and go back. It would be better to lose two weeks time than to lose everything, as we may easily do if the blacks quit us. You know we couldn't move through this country without them."
"We'll pull through somehow," O'Grady assured him. "We always do. Well, I'm goin' to turn in. Good-night, Major."
The brief equatorial twilight had ushered in the night. The moon had not risen. The forest was blotted out by a pall of darkness. The universe had shrunk to a few tiny earth fires surrounded by the huddled forms of men and, far above, a few stars.
Obroski paused in front of the girls' tent and scratched on the flap. "Who is it?" demanded Naomi Madison from within.