King's face froze. Nancy met his glare with one of her own.
"Actually, I had figured on setting fire to the jungle behind it," King said. "The flames would have stampeded him in any direction we wanted."
The natives suddenly stopped laughing. Now it was their turn to glare.
"Burning a virgin rain forest!" Nancy shrieked. "Are you mad!"
"You have a better way?"
"You can't burn forest like this," Thorpe said laconically. "Not so soon after a hard rain. So let's all put any thought of burning out of our minds, shall we?"
"We can try," King said stubbornly.
"You can try," Thorpe answered. "But I rather doubt the native boys will cotton to the idea."
"Who asked them?"
"It's their country."
"Like hell it is. I have permission from President Oburu to do whatever I have to to fulfill the mission."
At the sound of the name of Oburu, the Bantus grew narrow of eye. Some spat into the ground. A few hissed through perfect teeth.
"Guess they voted for the other guy," King muttered uneasily.
"In Gondwanaland," Thorpe said, "there is no other guy."
"Okay, I'll find another way."
He stomped off into the bush.
"Think he'll come up with anything?" Thorpe asked Nancy.
"Not in a million years."
But only a few minutes later he was shouting frantically for them to come running. They came upon Skip King standing in the flank of one of the misty rises that from a distance resembled small hills, but which they now realized were great escarpments swallowed by low-hanging jungle mists. There was an opening in the foot of the biggest of these. It was huge. And it had fallen in. The mouth was choked with red earth.
Leading in and out of the mouth were great saurian prints.
"I think I found its lair," King whispered.
Nancy knelt to examine the prints. When she stood up, her features were pale.
"These prints are fresh," she said.
"Of course," King said. "Made since the last rain."
"And there are three distinct sets," Nancy added. "Larger than the one we found."
"You mean the one I got isn't full grown?" King gulped.
Nancy nodded soberly.
Everyone carrying rifles clenched them more tightly, and those who had no weapons crowded closer to those who did.
"Let's keep our heads, shall we?" Skip suggested.
"What do you think, Thorpe?" Nancy asked.
"Why do you ask him and not me?" King demanded. "I'm expedition leader."
He was ignored.
Thorpe was looking at the tracks now. He motioned to Tyrone, who joined him. They exchanged short words in Bantu and Thorpe looked up.
"The freshest tracks are those going in. I'd say there are at least three more of the brutes in that cave, trapped."
"No!"
" 'Fraid so, Dr. Derringer."
"Is there anything we can do to get them out?"
"Doubtful. You're looking at tons of dirt and rock that came down all at once. And there's no guarantee that the beggers inside survived the cave-in."
"Then our beast might be the last survivor!" King said.
"It's likely," Thorpe admitted glumly.
"That makes him worth a fortune!"
"That makes him an endangered species," Nancy said fiercely, "and I will not have him endangered any further by your irresponsible macho bull."
"I resent that!"
"Resent it all you want, about from now on, I'm calling the shots."
"My ass," King snarled.
"All in favor of doing things my way," Nancy announced to everyone within hearing, "raise their hands."
The natives immediately lifted their hands. First, those who spoke English, and then the others when the first ones nudged them into following suit. Thorpe lifted one hand. As did two of the camera crew.
"All in favor of doing what Mr. King demands may now raise their hands," Nancy said.
Skip King raised his hand defiantly. His was the only one aloft.