Read Online How Teddy Roosevelt Slew the Last Mighty T-Rex by Mark Paul Jacobs - Free Book Online Page A

two nights.”
    Paishon, upon hearing the conversation, shoved a rifle and some ammunition into Martin’s hands.
    Martin inspected his rifle. “There is no reason to wait for me, Colonel Rondon,” he said, motioning downriver. “The upcoming rapids are very severe and will force you to portage the canoes and supplies. This will occupy the expedition for several days, allowing us ample time to catch up.”
    “Us...?” Rondon asked.
    “Yes, I would respectfully request an armed companion, preferably a volunteer from amongst my fellow camaradas. I’m confident in my ability to track the whereabouts of these natives on my own, yet some strong-armed backup might come in handy in a pinch. This tribe could be working under new management.”
    Rondon pondered for a moment before responding. “Yes, senhor Martin, I cannot in good conscience send you off alone without escort of some sort.”
    Julio de Lima suddenly stepped forward. “I will volunteer, Commander Rondon. I will go with senhor Martin.” Julio removed his hat and dipped his head politely.
    Roosevelt’s eyes widened. He shook his head. Of all men to volunteer for such a dangerous assignment… Julio! Theodore Roosevelt couldn’t help but smirk.
    “This will be acceptable,” Rondon replied, along with a seemingly disingenuous sigh.
    Roosevelt believed he detected a brief twinkle in Rondon’s steely eyes. Did he just witness the crafty Brazilian colonel ridding himself of his laziest camarada while still fulfilling his promise to Lieutenant Martin?   The good Colonel must be beside himself with glee.
    “Simplicio!” Rondon hollered. “Take Julio’s place on the Colonel’s dugout.” Rondon turned to Roosevelt. “Of course, with Colonel Roosevelt’s implicit permission...”
    “Of course,” Roosevelt replied with a subtle nod.
     
    The camaradas quickly prepared a few days ration for two men. Roosevelt wished the men “Godspeed” and then watched Martin and Julio stride away from the river and through the abandoned village. Moments later, they were swallowed by the living forest. Teddy could not help but ask himself what game these two men were playing. Maybe they will disappear for good, he thought. Perhaps they just hitched a short ride under the protection of an armed expedition. And yet their ultimate goal remains clouded in such mystery.
    But one thing was certain, he reasoned: the game had suddenly changed, and perhaps it had become somewhat more treacherous . Without question Theodore Roosevelt figured it was about time to let everyone in on his little conspiracy theory. Whether anyone would believe him, or whether anyone would even care, was anybody’s guess.”

CHAPTER 8
     
     
    After watching Lieutenant Martin and the camarada Julio part with the expedition and enter the wilderness to track the native villagers, the men hurriedly climbed back into their canoes and once again set out upon the dark waters of the River of Doubt. The rain ceased for a brief period in late afternoon, and the forest came to life with bird-calls and chirping insects. Roosevelt marveled at the variety and beauty of the forest palms—curved, stately and handsome—that flourished along the riverbank in countless configurations, their leaves crawling with brightly-colored butterflies fluttering gracefully amid the sun’s intermittent rays.
    While Roosevelt’s canoe ran a stretch of placid river, George Cherrie suddenly urged for silence. He stared high into the tree branches and waved his hand, motioning the crew to the river’s edge. The camaradas paddled urgently over to the near shore. They quietly dropped their oars and grasped some overhanging brush and held tight against the current. Cherrie slowly rose to his feet, balancing carefully at the dugout’s center. He raised his rifle and fired. Roosevelt watched a huge, gray monkey tumble through the branches and thump the ground.
    The camaradas cheered.
    “Tonight, we eat well,” Cherrie said.
     
    That