The Black Iron Glory
Home Limping

Chapter 73

Home Limping

"Is it really dead?" Claude asked, propping himself up on the fence.

He restocked the rifle, doing his best to relieve the pain.

"It's dead. I wouldn't believe it otherwise" Borkal replied, some colors slowly returning to his face, and his voice finally descended under the shrill soprano.

Welikro stabbed the crocodile with a broken pole and heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's dead. Damn Claude, that was a familiar call. If you had only a little off, we would all be dead by now" he half-whispered.

Claude takes his rifle back and points it at the crocodile, only to realize that the match has been extinguished.

"Wero, get my bag. I need a lighter."

"Why do you need a lighter now? It was dead," Borkal asked, his voice a little closer to normal again, as he pointed to the carcass.

Welikro pushed Borkal aside as he stormed Claude's bag.

"Claude carefully. Who knows if this will attract more crocodiles? And where's your rifle? You're never ready to help at a time like this!"

Borkal's face burned. He did not help solve the problems he and Eriksson created.

"Eh? Where's my rifle? Why missing?" he screamed in panic.

The ship was only big, surely he had found it by now!

Claude pointed to the lake.

"Maybe overdo it with you."

Welikro handed Claude's bag and helped fix the dry matches on the chicken.

Welikro handed Claude's bag and helped fix the dry matches on the chicken.

"How's your leg?" Welikro asked, glancing at the unnaturally large calf. He cut the pants carefully, but Claude still almost cried out in pain.

"I must've ripped a muscle," Claude said, "I'll be fine; check on Eyke. He looks a lot worse than I do."

Eriksson is back. He gripped the harbor fence involuntarily as blood quickly dyed his face again.

Borkal undressed unprepared and prepared to return to the lake in search of his rifle.

Eyke's forehead was wide open, and his bones were visible. His left arm was also severely injured, while his bones did not show, his muscles were clearly torn and could be seen through a tear in his upper arm. Her glassy, disorientated eyes told the children that she also suffered a bad concussion.

He half fell onto the deck with the help of Borkal and the latter wiped the blood from his eyes. Welikro poured some disinfecting and freezing agents on his wound, which stopped the worst bleeding.

"We have to sew it up" Welikro said as he looked at Eriksson's forehead, "I'll leave a bad scar, but it'll be worse if we leave it open until we get back to town."

"Can you do it?" Eriksson muttered in a daze.

Welikro glanced at Eriksson, worried about his troubled speech, and nodded. They only have simple sewing supplies: a simple needle and some intestinal thread. The boy did his best, but Welikro was not a trained healer, nor was he a seamster. Half of it may have been a concussion, but while Eriksson grimaced with each stab, he made no noise or withdrew.

Borkal could not watch, so he dove into the water to look for his rifle. He returned at about the same time as Welikro finished his work.

No one was interested, or under any circumstances, to continue their hunt, so they sailed towards the city. Claude wanted to drag the crocodile back, but they were in no condition to drag him home.

"It's not going anywhere, and it's too deep into the reeds to get it out right now. We'll come back later," Welikro said as they sailed slowly, "It wasn't that the ship was under any circumstances to be about to drag it, "he added, pointing to the missing fence, and, by extension, on the hole on the side of the ship.

"But if we don't get it back now, it's probably eaten by the time we get back. And who says we'll find it again even if it doesn't go anywhere? And we can't get money for repairs without it, "Borkal insisted.

"We still have the net. It should have gotten more fish than them" Eriksson replied with great difficulty. Even just saying a few words seemed to be an exhausting effort for him.

"Once we have that too, how are we gonna get that thing back?" Welikro asked, pointing to the fading carcass.

"Borkal is not wrong," Claude said after a while, "I doubt even with a very good catch from the net we will have enough for improvement. We can't just remove the board from another ship like we did last time, we have to have the board made. But at the same time you're right, we wouldn't have room for crocodiles if we took the nets. So why not just drag him to the back of the ship? We go get the net, then wrap it in it and drag it back to the city. "

Welikro opened his mouth to oppose, then sighed and threw his hand into the air.

"Good, whatever!" she half-cried, "By the way," she said, looking at Claude's still swollen legs, "How's his legs?"

Claude shook his head. . and grimaced.

"I'm doing fine. But I won't be much use putting a mesh in."

Neither Claude nor Eriksson could have done much with their injuries, so Welikro and Borkal had to carry nets and tie the crocodiles themselves. Borkal was the one who insisted on bringing the crocodile back, but he started moaning and shaking when it actually tied him up. It took the best humiliation Welikro had to do to help him.

The two injured did the best they could to help from the ship, but were of little value. Even so, they tied him up with ama, in the end.

They sailed again and limped out of the swamp and along the shore. His fourth stomach growled as they put the swamp behind him, and Claude limped around looking for what he could. He found only a half-empty basket of blueberries and apples, and a barrel of beer.

Apart from their rumbling bellies, they each only managed to bite down on an apple and some blueberries, and drink a cup of beer. They were all nauseous and did not eat.

Pull the crocodile and the net pull the boat far enough down so the water spills in through the hole even with the smallest waves, and they could not sail faster than limping for fear that the waves would flood the ship and sink completely.

They left the swamp during the day and only saw the city on the horizon at sunset. Claude slept mostly, but the other two kept Eriksson awake, fearing he would fall into a coma from concussion if he closed his eyes. It was pitch-black by the time they finally limped onto the dock.