MAYA COSMIC NUMBER PUZZLES VOLUME 108 MAYA COSMIC NUMBER PUZZLES VOLUME 910 | Página 11

stream. As they ate the evening meal, Thomas noticed the mosquitoes were especially
numerous and biting everyone. Even the campfire smoke could not keep the men free
of bites. Looking the men over he noticed two of them were sweating heavily. The two
workers assured him they were fine. They were very happy to be returning to their families
with an exciting story to tell and money in their pockets.
As the men talked about the golden book, Jorge wanted to know what the price of gold
was in the United States. Thomas told him it was about $35.00 an ounce in American
money. The U.S. government controlled the price of gold and kept the price stable. The
real worth of their find, he told Jorge, was in its value as a national treasure. However,
Mexico, Juan told the men, didn’t hold the Maya civilization in high regard. It was soon
realized the treasure that they had discovered might take months, or even years, to sell
at a good price. As they went to sleep, everyone wondered if the hardship was worth it.
When morning arrived the group discovered one of the stolen burros had returned, and
was standing calmly next to the others. But, there was no signs of the men who stole it.
An hour after breaking camp, the men were walking up a steep hill when a deep snarl
was heard up ahead. With machetes ready, the men advanced up the trail. There, not
two meters off the path, lay one of the five men who had deserted days before. He was
face down and his left leg was missing. Terror ran through the men. How had he died?
It looked as if an animal, perhaps a large cat, had been feeding on him recently. They
stopped and buried the remains in a shallow grave. They now knew why the burro had
returned.
Thomas began to wonder, why, with his adventure nearing its end, was it turning sour
now? He wiped his sweaty head on his sleeve. Was he feeling sick? Was it the dead body
of one of his men that was causing his upset stomach? The group continued to press on
through the jungle. Juan and Jorge were also troubled with the unexpected dead man
turning up. They asked themselves, why did the group of five men leave one of their own
dead at the side of the trail? Why had he not been buried? There was no machete lying
around and the blood seemed confined to the point of severance. That suggested to the
group there had been no fight. Each man knew the jungle can kill you in many ways-some
fast, some slow. Thomas started to think back to the days in the jungles of the Pacific
Islands. The dead man brought back memories of that horrid war. Now, it seemed they
were in a war with the jungle itself. Keep focused, Thomas reminded himself. Keep moving forward to the edge of the jungle, only a few more days to go. He remembered the last
little home he had seen. It would look like a castle when he saw it again. Guillermo was
slowing them down; he, too, looked overheated. He assured Thomas he was feeling fine,
even though he looked sick. Thomas felt Guillermo’s forehead and found he was burning
up. “Drink more water,” Thomas told him, “and take some of these aspirin.” At the next
stream, Thomas ordered the men to make camp. They still had a couple hours of daylight
remaining, but everyone needed the early rest. The stout burros looked fine, better than
the men, even though the burros were the ones carrying the heavy loads.
Daylight brought an ominous gift. Three more of the stolen burros arrived, walking toPAGE 11