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Chapter 41

           Walkingcarefully,downhill,Anselmointhelead,Agustínnext,RobertJordanplacinghisfeetcarefullysothathewouldnotslip,feelingthedeadpineneedlesunderhisrope-soledshoes,bumpingatreerootwithonefootandputtingahandforwardandfeelingthecoldmetaljutoftheautomaticriflebarrelandthefoldedlegsofthetripod,thenworkingsidewaysdownthehill,hisshoesslidingandgroovingtheforestfloor,puttinghislefthandoutagainandtouchingtheroughbarkofatreetrunk,thenashebracedhimselfhishandfeelingasmoothplace,thebaseofthepalmofhishandcomingawaystickyfromtheresinoussapwhereablazehadbeencut,theydroppeddownthesteepwoodedhillsidetothepointabovethebridgewhereRobertJordanandAnselmohadwatchedthefirstday.

           NowAnselmowashaltedbyapinetreeinthedarkandhetookRobertJordan’swristandwhispered,solowJordancouldhardlyhearhim,"Look.Thereisthefireinhisbrazier."

           ItwasapointoflightbelowwhereRobertJordanknewthebridgejoinedtheroad.

           "Hereiswherewewatched,"Anselmosaid.HetookRobertJordan’shandandbentitdowntotouchasmallfreshblazelowonatreetrunk."ThisImarkedwhilethouwatched.Totherightiswherethouwishedtoputthemáquina."

           "Wewillplaceitthere."

           "Good."

           TheyputthepacksdownbehindthebaseofthepinetrunksandthetwoofthemfollowedAnselmoovertothelevelplacewheretherewasaclumpofseedlingpines.

           "Itishere,"Anselmosaid."Justhere."

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