e piece of wood in imitation of Norton's
swagger stick. Terrence took one look at him and at the two orderlies
who stood behind him holding his field kit. He strode toward him
scowling, placed his fists on his hips and stood glaring up at the
Greenback as he roared, "So! It's delusions of grandeur you've got, is
it? Where are Hannigan and O'Toole and their patrols? Why aren't they
back?"

O'Shaughnessy stiffened to attention trying to pull in his great
stomach. "They are back, Mr. Lieutenant Sir.... I forgot. They had
nothing to report ... no contact."

Terrence looked him up and down, "If you foul up just once more ...
I'm going to ... I'll split your gizzard, stuff it with To-To leaves
and send you to the Rumi for their breakfast with my compliments!"

O'Shaughnessy shivered at the dire threat as O'Mara turned to Rev.
Goodman who stood with his people clustered about him. "All right,
Reverend, you can move out with your flock. I'll throw patrols out in
front of you and bring up the rear with the rest of the Rifles. We'll
see you as far as the edge of the swamps."

In a long straggly line, the refugees started out with the native
police keeping order and Goodman marching at their head. The two drums
and the three bugles of the Narakan Rifles struck up a badly mangled
version of _Back to Donegal_, and the column followed on the heels of
the civilians. Once or twice Terrence glanced back at the smoke and
flame that had been Dust Bin before he turned his face forward across
the miles of grasslands to where the Suzi swamps lay.

Darkness had fallen but progress wasn't difficult until one of those
sudden, lashing storms for which Naraka was famous hurled itself upon
them, flattening the tall grass, raising swirls of dust and finally
turning the dust into thick, clinging mud.

As suddenly as it had come, the storm was gone. But by that time they
were in the swamp itself. Night in the Suzi swamps. Swamps composed of
a sticky, gray mud and heavy tangled undergrowth. The night was as
black as the day had been bright. The column which had left the
civilians at the edge of the swamp was pushing slowly forward. The
Narakans glided along on their bare, webbed feet and the Terrans
pushed along on snowshoe-like glides attached to their boots.

Bill Fielding, bareheaded with his helmet thrown back over his
shoulder, floundered along beside Terrence. "Did you ever see a place
like this? Did you ever see mud like this? Even the