Roosevelt, Kermit, and Cherrie pitched their tent for an anticipated two day’s stay beside the brook. There, they intended to finalize their plans and to rest the animals. They retreated to the bonfire for a light meal of roasted oxen and fried potatoes, after which the officers exchanged stories until weariness overtook them and they turned in under brilliant southern stars that radiated across the full arc of the Brazilian sky.
The following morning, Roosevelt and Cherrie awoke to the familiar sounds of heavy raindrops against their tent’s canvas roof. The two men donned rain gear and slipped out the flap. Roosevelt noticed Rondon, Amilcar, and the camaradas already hard at work under the forest’s sopping canopy. Roosevelt and Cherrie gathered themselves over the sputtering fire and poured themselves hot cups of coffee.
The two men chit-chatted for several minutes about the nasty conditions and whether or not they should forsake the day and not collect additional specimens for Cherrie’s collection, when suddenly Roosevelt noticed Colonel Rondon pull Lieutenant Martin aside. Martin stood completely naked before the Brazilian commander, and he appeared quite comfortable standing in the elements while rainwater rolled off his leathery skin to the forest’s floor. He carried a spear in his left hand in native fashion. Rondon offered Martin a bag tethered with a leather strap. Martin accepted with a nod, slinging the bag around his bare shoulder. Rondon turned away while Martin strode in the opposite direction and toward the sopping woods.
Roosevelt saw another shadowy figure intercept Martin just as the Englishman was about to enter the forest. The two men conversed briefly amid several abrupt glances to any who might be observing. Julio! Theodore Roosevelt rubbed his chin.
Roosevelt recalled vividly Kermit’s observation upon first meeting the Englishman two days previously: How did Martin acquire such an intimate knowledge of their mission? Teddy Roosevelt was supremely confident in his ability to be a skillful observer of men. And these two men, he surmised instantly, were no strangers to one another.
CHAPTER 5
“From the very moment I received Frank Chapman’s invitation,” confessed George Cherrie to Theodore Roosevelt as they crept through the thick forest, “I had serious reservations about joining the Roosevelt-Rondon Expedition.” Roosevelt listened intently, cradling his shotgun and adjusting his spectacles. Kermit moved in tandem twenty steps behind, scanning the woodland’s perimeter for skulking predators.
Cherrie manipulated his hat’s ridge between thumb and finger. He peered high into the canopied branches. “But I’d be the first to admit that the letter was indeed elegant, emblazoned with the seal of the American Museum of Natural History and signed by our good friend Frank Chapman, head of the museum’s ornithology department. This would have been a bird-man’s dream in most circumstances.”
Teddy Roosevelt, being a lifelong benefactor for the museum, knew the museum’s president Henry Fairfield Osborn and Frank Chapman quite well. Osborn was a paleontologist of great note, having sent shockwaves through the scientific world just a few years before with his newly classified Tyrannosaur.
“Yet I suspect there were other factors at play,” Cherrie continued. “Chapman and Osborn most assuredly thought of me as a walking insurance policy of sorts. That is, if the expedition went awry and your life was somehow endangered.”
“Of course,” Roosevelt said. “Osborn fears less the expedition’s failure as he does that I return to America packed up snug in a wooden box. It could very well hinder the museum’s donations.” Roosevelt chortled.
Cherrie snickered, then continued, “Yet there I lay, just last July on my Vermont farm holding that letter in my hand, rocking in my hammock under my favorite shady apple tree, mulling over twenty-five previous collecting expeditions to South America and having reached the age of forty-seven, I began to reason it was about time I took a break and spent more time with my family, whom I managed to neglect these many years.”
“Bravo,” Roosevelt said.
“But alas, I succumbed to the lure and prestige of an expedition headed by the former President of the United States.”
“Excellent! And we are all so very fortunate—”
“Not to mention Chapman’s generous stipend of $150 a month.”
Roosevelt grinned. “And the money will be well earned, my friend. Your vast experience in the Amazon is worth every penny expended.” Roosevelt pulled closer. “Let me tell you, I was absolutely elated when I heard such a distinguished scientist as George Cherrie had agreed to join our little party.”
“Alas, you are very modest in this respect, Colonel Roosevelt. I know for a fact that you are quite an accomplished amateur naturalist in your own right.”
Roosevelt suddenly halted. He pointed to a tiny fluttering speck perched on a distant tree branch. Cherrie followed the direction of Roosevelt’s finger and then shook his head.
Cherrie motioned for Roosevelt and Kermit to move onward. “I have read that you have studied creatures great and small since childhood, and as a teenager you had already cataloged and donated scores of specimens to the Museum of Natural History.”
“My father helped establish the museum, did you not know…?”
“And even as president you made many quests into the woods and devoured every textbook on natural history that you could find.”
“Book knowledge only, dear sir. It will never substitute for professional field experience.”
“And yet your thirst for knowledge of wild creatures has never been satiated.”
Roosevelt halted. He turned to Cherrie and sighed deeply. “Yes, I am guilty of all that you have so gleefully charged. But you must realize that is has been my lifelong dream to explore the equatorial jungle with its myriad prowling, flying, and creeping creatures.” Roosevelt’s eyes brightened. “And you, my good man, have made it all possible, and I’ll be forever in your debt.”
Suddenly a blue blur sprung from a nearby branch. Roosevelt hurriedly raised his gun and fired. A fraction later, a second shot by Cherrie brought the feathered beast tumbling to earth.
Still peering around like a soldier on patrol, Kermit strode forward. Cherrie bent and hoisted the brilliant baby-blue carcass to shoulder height.
“Ah,” Roosevelt said, “I see a fine example of Anodorhynchus hyacinthinus. What a beautiful specimen!”
George Cherrie grinned broadly. “Yes, Colonel, you are correct… the Hyacinth Macaw. It is one of the largest parrots in existence.”
Roosevelt pulled closer, manipulating the bird’s long beak and stroking its soft feathers. “Is it male or female? I recall reading that it is almost impossible to distinguish the sex merely by casual observation.”
Cherrie laughed. “Once again, you have proved the depth of your knowledge of South American birds, Mr. President.” Cherrie turned the bird over and moved his thumb gently under the plumage, and announced, “It’s a female, I think…”
Cherrie placed the bird gingerly into his burlap specimen sack. He continued onward, pushing aside a large bush with broad leaves resembling an elephant’s ear. “I am just curious, Colonel, why you did not pursue the world of science as a primary vocation? You and I seem to possess the same fiery hunger regarding the natural world.”
“It very much started out that way,” Roosevelt replied with reflection. “I entered Harvard as a freshman with high ideals and grand aspirations, and yet my passion dimmed when I experienced their curriculum, which was dominated by lab work and experiments, and not the more freeing and interesting fieldwork that I love so dearly. So, with a heavy heart and with great despair, I made a life-altering decision to abandon the life of a scientist, instead focusing my efforts on politics.”
“I would say, without doubt, you have reached the absolute pinnacle in one career, and yet you have always carried enormous potential in another. Do you have any regrets?”
“No, very little. Oftentimes one’s vocation is best kept separate from one’s passion, and I have been fortunate enough to dabble in both.” Roosevel
t nodded curtly. “Now, tell me more about you, Mr. Cherrie. I have only been enlightened to just a fragment of your illustrious life.”
George Cherrie laughed. “I feel quite humbled speaking of my own inconspicuous voyage with the former President of the United States of America…”
“Go on,” Roosevelt replied earnestly. “Every man has the God-given right to he heard and respected. And you, sir, are no ordinary man by anyone’s measure.”
Cherrie paused for a moment, his eyes focused on Roosevelt. “Well, my upbringing was a tad more modest than Theodore Roosevelt’s. I began working in sweat shops at the age of twelve, eventually scraping up money to enroll myself in Iowa State University where I studied Mechanical Engineering. And just like you, I spurned my chosen major and learned the basics of Taxidermy after I left school. Following that, I wandered throughout Central and South America where I found my passion for Ornithology and collecting.”
Roosevelt shook his head. “I envy you in many ways, Mr. Cherrie.”
“It has been a strenuous life, yet not as stressful perhaps as leader of one of the most powerful nations on earth, would you not agree?”
“Indeed, I have had my share of harrowing moments.”
“So I’ve heard. I followed the last election.”
Both Cherrie and Roosevelt chuckled merrily. Finally Roosevelt said, “And here we are, talking birds in the middle of South America. One wonders how we have both reached this same destiny whilst coming from such diverse backgrounds.” He grasped Cherrie’s lean shoulder. “But I am eternally happy we did.”
“I have to admit,” Cherrie said. “I had serious doubts about this expedition and your personal dedication as a naturalist, Mr. President. But you have changed my mind with absolute certainty. And now I feel I have gained a lifelong friend.”
Roosevelt grinned broadly.
“But now,” Cherrie continued, “we should get these beautiful specimens back to camp and prepare them for storage.”
**********
“Well, what is the prognosis, doctor?” Roosevelt asked wryly, swatting vainly one of the score of fierce mosquitoes swarming his bare chest and back. “Fit as a fiddle?”
Doctor Cajazeira gently shook his head. He held Roosevelt’s wrist between his thumb and finger while glancing at his pocket watch. “Please, senhor Colonel. I beg of you, just few moments of silence.”
Roosevelt chuckled. “That is a tall order for me indeed, good man. Well, get on with it. I need to scale Pike’s Peak before dinner and then swim the English Channel before nightfall.”
Cajazeira placed his palm across Roosevelt’s temple. Glancing skyward, he scowled. “Your fever worsens…”
“Brazil is a tad warm, if you had not—”
“Make light of this all you wish, Colonel Roosevelt, but you understand with certainty the underlying reality of your ailment. I’m sure you need no doctor’s lecture on this subject.”
Roosevelt’s grin slowly evaporated. He snapped up his shirt and began buttoning up. “Fiddlesticks.”
“My advice to you would be to leave with Captain Amilcar and exit the Amazon as quickly as possible. Then sail back to New York and relax for a year or two, do a few lectures and write a few columns. You are a fifty-four-year-old man who has experienced things very few can even imagine. The deep unexplored jungle is no place for…”
“—washed up dreamers?”
Doctor Cajazeira nodded painfully. “I have no stomach for such unkind words, senhor, but I do offer my guidance with great earnestness.”
Roosevelt sighed. “Well, I have always appreciated honesty and directness. But I have also stated very succinctly my willingness to sacrifice my own life in the name of exploration.”
“And would you gamble with senhor Kermit’s life also?”
“My son’s malaria concerns me a great deal, doctor. Perhaps he should be sent back with Amilcar and get the treatment he needs in a regular hospital, although it would be like sending a dagger through my chest.”
“Kermit is young and relatively robust, Mr. President. He can likely survive such a trip as you have planned to embark upon, yet he is unlikely to alter his plans. He will follow wherever his famous father leads, if you have not already noticed.”
“As we say in politics, I will take this under advisement.”
Cajazeria shrugged and carefully placed his examination instruments into his black bag.
The doctor’s sudden silence rang loudly through Roosevelt’s head. “Listen,” Roosevelt continued with a touch of gentleness. “I believe you are a fine doctor, and I now consider you a close friend and confidant. Men like me make decisions based on our hearts, not our heads. Our inflated egos guide us through the tangled intricacies of our existence. Without it, we are sham—meaningless—we fail to exist in any consequential way. I have seen men such as myself, simply die away on the Sargasso Sea of idleness. It is quite sad.”
“One cannot depend on a heart that does not continue to beat?”
“A fair point, certainly, but I don’t intend to burden this expedition if I reach incapacity.” Roosevelt reached into his pocket and removed a simple vial. He held it forth between thumb and finger.
“Morphine?! But that dose would most assuredly…” Doctor Cajazeria turned away, waving his hand. “Put that thing away! For a man of your stature to even think of doing such a thing… It’s abhorrent.”
Teddy Roosevelt shrugged.
Cajazeria stroked his chin and sighed deeply. “Well, I am foremost a physician, and I will treat you as I will treat any man on this expedition, regardless of the direction you have decided to take.” A tiny smile cracked the doctor’s grim face. “I have come to enjoy our time together, President Roosevelt, more than I could have imagined when we first met these many weeks ago.”
“What is, for anyone, not to love?” Roosevelt replied, grinning widely and pointing toward his own chest.
“And yet you are as pig-headed as your reputation asserts, and you are as frustrating as you are pragmatic.”
“Thank you, good doctor. I will accept your depiction as a sincere and heart-felt complement.” Roosevelt looked skyward through the treetops and into the brilliant blue Brazilian afternoon sky. “The Devine created me this way for a reason. And even Theodore Roosevelt lacks the political sway to alter His plans.”
Cajazeria chuckled. He grabbed his black bag as if preparing to leave.
Roosevelt noticed Kermit approach from the direction of camp. “And doctor,” he continued whispering. “I trust that any of our little visits will be kept confidential, would they not?”
“Yes, as you wish, Colonel.” With a tip of his hat, the doctor strolled back toward camp, passing Kermit on the way.
Kermit Roosevelt smirked. “A good, clean bill of health, I presume?”
“Doctors!?” Teddy waived his hand dismissively. “They worry like wives and fret over the most trivial symptoms. His diagnosis was that I was an old and broken man.”
“He is very perceptive.”
“Hmmm. And what does Amilcar and Rondon have to report?”
“The provisions are packed and ready for the Dúvida mission.”
“Excellent. And has there been any sign of Lieutenant Martin’s return?”
Kermit shook his head. “No, but Rondon insists that our contingent reach the river tomorrow so that the camaradas can begin constructing the boats.”
“I had hoped we could wait another day.”
“Amilcar and Miller’s group will remain here for a day or two, and then they hope to catch up with us before we depart.”
“Good, good.”
“And please, father, don’t fret about Martin. He was most likely a confidence man, out to swindle some money, as many do who are of their ilk. The task you assigned him was no less than brilliant. It probably saved us great embarrassment in the long run.”
“I suppose you and Rondon may have been right all along. I might have made a terrible blunder trusting this stranger
. And yet I still maintain hope, but it might be wildly misguided.”
They started out the following morning even earlier than usual. Rondon and Lyra led their way along the twisting creek, followed closely by Roosevelt, Kermit, and Cherrie. The sluggish team of malnourished and over-packed oxen trailed behind, coaxed along by sixteen bare-footed camaradas.
By early afternoon they had trekked nearly four grueling miles, and the officers dismounted their mules and sat on some flat rocks beside the brook while the animals rested. Now obsessed with the thought of finally reaching the end of the overland journey, Colonel Roosevelt insisted they move forward, and the others, to a man, readily agreed.
They crept forward while the sun passed behind the trees to the west, finally descending a modest hillock where the creek merged peacefully into a larger river perhaps sixty feet across.
A simple wooden bridge spanned the river, and Teddy Roosevelt could see a solitary, naked white man sitting directly upon its center beams. Approaching closer, he noticed the naked man’s wide smile.
“I’m glad you and Colonel Rondon could make it,” Martin said nonchalantly. “I was beginning to think all my efforts would be for naught.”
Dismounting his mule, Roosevelt peered upon and beneath the structure. Before him, seven dugout canoes constructed in Nhambiquara fashion swayed upon the dark waters, their crude bows tethered to the bridge by vine-laced ropes.
How Teddy Roosevelt Slew the Last Mighty T-Rex Page 4