“An’ another cross agin yer fren’ the Priest.”
“Was it he?”
“Th’ same.”
He gave Wilson a little food and a wisp of the coca leaves to chew and briefly told him what he had just been through. He concluded with a wave of his hand about him.
“So here we are at last, an’ a crew of savages waitin’ fer us at the top, which makes a fine and fittin’ end fer any v’yage upon which I embarks.”
“Water––give me more water.”
Stubbs rested the bottle to the man’s lips a moment and then had to fight with him to get it away.
“Now,” said Stubbs, “if ye’ve gut th’ breath, tell me, has ye explored at all?”
Wilson shook his head. He answered vaguely, his thoughts still upon the one thing.