Читать книгу The Dark River онлайн

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"Tight! He didn't even know they hoisted him up."

"I'm beginning to like these people, Mac."

"I've liked them from the day we landed. I can understand why Tyson's stayed on here, all these years."

"He's a good sort, isn't he?" said Hardie. "Hello! What's all this?"

A vague sound of screaming was heard high above the clatter of the bus, then bowling along at its full twenty miles per hour. The driver brought the coach to a shuddering stop, and with his head turned over his shoulder backed fifty or sixty yards to a bridge over a small mountain stream. Having halted, he sat contemplating his bare toes while shrill cries of "Tapéa! Tapéa!" continued to be heard. They came from a small screened enclosure made of palm fronds at the bank of the stream, about a dozen yards from the bridge. The head and shoulders of a woman, evidently of huge proportions, could be seen above the enclosure. Tihoni, the driver, leaned across to speak to Hardie, regarding the old woman with disgust as he did so. "Ain't she got a voice?" he said.