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. The Lieutenant turned his head and shouted something.
I wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road! - but I did not. 'What does he say?'
'He says to look where he points. He'll point us right at it. EI tiburуn blanco grande - the great white shark that almost got us.'
(I could have done without it.) Sure enough, right in the middle of this wall of water was a gray ghost with a fin cutting the water. Just when I knew that we were going to splash right down on top of it, the wall tilted away from us, my buttocks were forced down hard against the seat, my ears roared, and I again missed throwing up on our host only by iron will.
The machine leveled off and suddenly the ride was almost comfortable, aside from the racket and the vibration.
Airships are ever so much nicer.
The rugged hills behind the shoreline, so hard to see from our raft, were clearly in sight once we were in the air, and so was the shore - a series of beautiful beaches and a town where we were headed. The Sergeant looked around, pointed down a I t the town, and spoke. 'What did he say?'
'Sergeant Roberto says that we are home just in time for lunch. Almuerzo, he said, but notes that it's breakfast - desayuno - for us.'
My stomach suddenly decided to stay awhile. 'I don't care what he calls it. Tell him not to bother to cook the horse; I'll eat it raw.'
Margrethe translated; both our hosts laughed, then the Lieutenant proceeded to swoop down and place 'his machine on the water while looking back over his shoulder to talk to Margrethe - who continued to smile while she drove her nails through the palm of my right hand
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