t Bond and said； 〃All right； my friend。 Now then； you get up front with the driver。〃
Bond smiled happily。 〃Thanks。 I've always wanted to do that since I was a child。 What fun！〃
〃You said it；〃 said Scaramanga。 He turned to the others。 〃And you； Mr。 Hendriks。 In the first seat behind the coal…tender； please。 Then Sam and Leroy。 Then Hal and Louie。 I'll be up back in the brake van。 Good place to watch out for game。 Okay？〃
Everybody took their seats。 The stationmaster had recovered his nerve and went through his ploy with the watch and the flag。 The engine gave a triumphant hoot and with a series of diminishing puffs got under way； and they bowled off along the three…foot gauge line that disappeared； as straight as an arrow； into a dancing shimmer of silver。
Bond read the speed gauge。 It said twenty。 For the first tune he paid attention to the driver。 He was a villainous…looking Rastafari in dirty khaki overalls with a sweat rag round his forehead。 A cigarette drooped from between the thin moustache and the straggling beard。 He smelled quite horrible。 Bond said； 〃My name's Mark Hazard。 What's yours？〃
〃Rass； man！ Ah doan talk wid buckra。〃
The expression 〃rass〃 is Jamaican for 〃shove it。〃 〃Buckra〃 is a tough colloquialism for 〃white man。〃
Bond said equably； 〃I thought part of your religion was to love thy neighbour。〃
The Rasta gave the whistle lanyard a long pull。 When the shriek had died away； he simply said 〃Sheeit；〃 kicked the furnace door open； and began shovelling coal。
Bond looked surreptitiously round the cabin。 Yes。 There it was！ The long Jamaican cutlass； this one filed to an inch blade with a deadly point。 It was on a rack by the man's hand。 Was this the way he was supposed to go？ Bond doubted it。 Scaramanga would do the deed in a suitably dramatic fashion and one that could give him an alibi。 Second executioner would be Hendriks。 Bond looked back over the low coal…tender。 Hendriks' eyes； bland and indifferent； met his。 Bond shouted above the iron clang of the engine； 〃Great fun； what？〃 Hendriks' eyes looked away and back again。 Bond stooped so that he could see under the surrey roof。 All the other four men were sitting motionless； their eyes also fixed on Bond。 Bond waved a cheerful hand。 There was no response。 So they had been told！ Bond was a spy in their midst； and this was his last ride。 In mobese； he was 〃going to be hit。〃 It was an unfortable feeling having those ten enemy eyes watching him like ten gun barrels。 Bond straightened himself。 Now the top half of his body； like the iron 〃man〃 in a pistol range； was above the roof of the surrey； and he was looking straight down the flat yellow surface to where Scaramanga sat on his solitary throne； perhaps twenty feet away； with all his body in full view。 He also was looking down the little train at Bond…the last mourner in the funeral cortege behind the cadaver that was James Bond。 Bond waved a cheery hand and turned back。 He opened his coat and got a moment's reassurance from the cool butt of his gun。 He felt in his trouser pocket。 Three spare magazines。 Ah well！ He'd take as many of them as he could with him。 He flipped down the codriver's seat and sat on it。 No point in offering a target until he had to。 The Rasta flicked his cigarette over the side and lit another。 The engine was driving herself。 He leant against the cabin wall and looked at nothing。
Bond had done his homework on the 1：50；000 Overseas Survey map that Mary had provided； and he knew exactly the route the little cane line took。 First there would be five miles of the cane fields； between whose high green walls they were now travelling。 Then came Middle River； followed by the vast expanse of swamplands； now being slowly reclaimed but still shown on the map as THE GREAT MORASS。 Then would e Orange River leading into Orange Bay； and then more sugar and mixed forest and agricultural smallholdings until they came to the little hamlet of Green Island at the head of the excellent anchorage of Green Island Harbour。
A hundred yards ahead； a turkey buzzard rose from beside the line； and after a few heavy flaps； caught the inshore breeze and soared up and away。 There came the boom of Scaramanga's gun。 A feather drifted down from the great right…hand wing of the big bird。 The turkey buzzard swerved and soared higher。 A second shot rang out。 The bird gave a jerk and began to tumble untidily down out of the sky。 It jerked again as a third bullet hit it before it crashed into the cane。 There was applause from under the yellow roof。 Bond leant out and called to Scaramanga； 〃That'll cost you five pounds unless you've squared the Rasta。 That's the fine for killing a John Crow。〃
A shot whistled past Bond's head。 Scarmanga laughed。 〃Sorry。 Thought I saw a rat。〃 And then； 〃e on； Mr。 Hazard。 Let's see some gun play from you。 There's some cattle grazing by the line up there。 See if you can hit a cow at ten paces。〃
The hoods guffawed。 Bond put his head out again。 Scar…amanga's gun was on his lap。 Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Mr。 Hendriks； perhaps ten feet behind him； had his right hand in his coat pocket。 Bond called； 〃I never shoot game that I don't eat。 If you'll eat the whole cow； I'll shoot it for you。〃
The gun flashed and boomed as Bond jerked his head under cover of the coal…tender。 Scaramanga laughed harshly。 〃Watch your lip； limey； or you'll end up without it。〃 The hoods hawhawed。
Beside Bond； the Rasta gave a curse。 He pulled hard on the whistle lanyard。 Bond looked down the line。 Far ahead； across the rails； something pink showed。 Without releasing the whistler； the driver pulled on a lever。 Steam belched from the train's exhaust； and the engine began to slow。 Two shots rang out； and the bullets clanged against the iron roof over his head。 Scaramanga shouted angrily； 〃Keep steam up； damn you to hell！〃
The Rasta quickly pushed up the lever and the speed of the train gathered back to twenty miles an hour。 He shrugged。 He glanced at Bond。 He licked his lips wetly。 〃Dere's white trash across de line。 Guess mebbe it's some frien' of de boss。〃
Bond strained his eyes。 Yes！ It was a naked pink body with golden blonde hair！ A girl's body！
Scaramanga's voice boomed against the wind。 〃Folks。 Just a little surprise for you all。 Something from the good old Western movies。 There's a girl on the line ahead。 Tied across it。 Take a look。 And you know what？ It's the girl friend of a certain man we've been hearing of called James Bond。 Would you believe it？ And her name's Goodnight； Mary Goodnight。 It sure is good night for her。 If only that fellow Bond was aboard now； I guess we'd be hearing him holler for mercy。〃
14
The Great Morass
James Bond leaped for the accelerator lever and tore it downwards。 The engine lost a head of steam； but there was only a hundred yards to go。 Now the only thing that could save the girl were the brakes under Scaramanga's control in the brake van。 The Rasta already had his cutlass in his hand。 The flames from the furnace glinted on the blade。 He stood back like a cornered animal； his eyes red with ganja and fear of the gun in Bond's hand。 Nothing could save the girl now！ Bond； knowing that Scaramanga would expect him from the right side of the tender； leaped to the left。 Hendriks had his gun out。 Before it could swivel； Bond put a bullet between the man's cold eyes。 The head jerked back。 For an instant； steel…capped back teeth showed in the gaping mouth。 Then the grey Homburg fell off and the dead head slumped。 The golden gun boomed twice。 A bullet whanged round the cabin。 The Rasta screamed and fell
to the ground； clutching at his throat。 His hand was still clenched round the whistle lanyard； and the little train kept up its mournful howl of warning。 Fifty yards to go！ The golden hair hung forlornly forward； obscuring the face。 The ropes on the wrists and ankles showed clearly。 The breasts offered themselves to the screaming engine。 Bond ground his teeth and shut his mind to the dreadful impact that would e any minute now。 He leaped to the left again and got off three shots。 He thought two of them had hit； but then something slammed a great blow into the muscle of his left shoulder and he spun across the cab and crashed to the ir