"I know. But—they're armed."
"I'll talk to 'em," Brown said quietly. He lifted two of the pails and started up the path, Paula and Brown trailing him. Presently they reached the clearing where camp had been made.
The men weren't cooking. Instead, they were gathered in a knot around Sampson, whose blazing red hair stood up like a beacon. Brown put down his burden and walked toward them.
They broke up at sight of him, but didn't scatter. Sampson's hand crept imperceptibly toward his holster.
"Trouble?" Brown asked.
Sampson squinted at him. "No trouble. Except we didn't know the Forest would be as bad as it is."
"So you want to go back?"
"You can't blame us for that," Sampson said, hunching his heavy shoulders. "It's only dumb luck that's kept us alive so far. We didn't bargain for this, Captain."
"I told you what to expect."
"All you said was that it'd be dangerous. None of us knew the Forest. Those damn bloodsucker plants are the worst. They reach out at a guy everywhere he turns. And the other things—we can't get through, Captain! You ought to be able to see that yourself!"