Noice made a vulgar sound with his lips and tongue.
In the rear of the column Pat O'Grady stopped whistling. He dropped back with the askaris guarding the rear. They had faced about and were nervously peering into the forest. A man from the last truck joined them and stood beside O'Grady.
"Wish we could get a look at 'em once," he said.
"It's tough tryin' to fight a bunch of guys you don't ever see," said O'Grady.
"It sort of gets a guy's nanny," offered the other. "I wonder who they got up in front this time."
O'Grady shook his head.
"It'll be our turn next; it was yesterday," said the man.
O'Grady looked at him. He saw that he was not afraid—he was merely stating what he believed to be a fact. "Can't ever tell," he said. "If it's a guy's time, he'll get it; if it isn't, he won't."
"Do you believe that? I wish I did."
"Sure—why not? It's pleasanter. I don't like worryin'."