"Heinlein, Robert A - A Tenderfoot in Space - Original Version v1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

УDonТt need it,Ф Hans answered without looking up.
УBut it makes it so simple. You justЧФ
УYour watch is okay. Make yourself a twenty-fourhour dial out of cardboard.Ф -
УThat would work? Yeah, it would! I wish I had one now.,Т
Hans fumbled in his duffel bag. УUh, I made you one.Ф He handed it over without looking upЧa cardboard clock face, laid out for twenty-four hours.
Charlie was almost speechless. УGee! Nixie, look at that! Say, flans, I donТt know how to thank you.Ф
~*Don~t want you and Nixie getting lost,Ф Hans answered gruffly.
Charlie took it, aimed nine-thirty along his line, marked - noon and restretched the string to match. Base line, according to his sighting, differed by ten degrees from that of Hans. In the meantime, two patrol leaders had stretched a line at right angles to base line, along where the troop was spread out. One of them moved down the line, checking angles with a protractor. Mr. QuТan followed, checked CharlieТs layout himself. УAbout nine degrees off,Ф he told Charlie. УNot bad for a first try.Ф
Charlie felt crestfallen. He knew that he and Hans could not both be right but he had had a small hope that his answer was nearer the correct one. УUh. . . which way am I wrong?Ф -
УLeft-demi. Look at HansТЧheТs dead on . . . as usual.Ф The Scoutmaster raised his voice. УAll right, gang! Bush formation, route march. Flamers out, right and left. Rusty on point, Bill on dragЧshake it up!Ф
УHeel, Nixie.Ф

The road cut straight through the jungle. The clearing had been flamed back wider than the road so that the jungle did not arch over it. The column kept -to the middle where the ground was packed by vehicles running to and from outlying plantations. The flamers on the flanks, both of them Explorer Scouts, walked close to the walls of green and occasionally used their flame guns
to cut back some new encroachment of vine or tree or grass. Each time they did so, they kept moving and a scavenger gang moved out, tossed the debris back into the living forest, and quickly rejoined the column. It was everybodyТs business to keep the roads open; the colony depended on roads more than Ancient Rome had depended on theirs.
Presently it began to rain. No one paid attention; rain was as normal as ice in Greenland. Rain was welcome; it washed off ever-present sweat and gave an illusion of
coolness. -
Presently Point (Rusty Dunlop) stopped, sighted back at Drag, and shouted, УRight demi fifteen degrees!Ф
Drag answered, УCheck!Ф Point continued around the slight bend in the road. They had left Borealis heading УsouthФ of course, since no other direction was possible, but that particular south was base thirty-two degrees right demi, to which was now added fifteen degrees
clockwise.
It was PointТs duty to set trail, keep lookout ahead, and announce his estimate of every change in direction. It was DragТs business to have eyes in the back of his head (since even here the jungle was - not without power to strike), keep count of his paces, and keep written record of all course changes and the number of paces between eachЧdead reckoning navigation marked down in a waterproof notebook strapped to his wrist. He was picked for his reliability and the evenness of his strides.
A dozen other boys were doing the same things, imitating both Point and Drag, and recording everything, paces, times, and course changes, in preparation for Pathfinder merit badges. Each time the troop stopped, each would again establish base direction and record it. Later, after the hike, they would attempt to map where they-had been, using only their notes.
It was just practice, since the road was surveyed and mapped, but practice that could determine later whether they lived, or died miserably in the jungle. Mr. QuТan
had no intention of taking the troop, including tenderfoot town boys not yet twenty Venus years old, into unexplored jungle. But older boys, seasoned explorer Scouts did go into trackless bush; some were already marking out land they would claim and try to conquer. On their ability to proceed by dead reckoning through bush and swamp and return to where they had started depended both their lives and their future livelihoods.
Mr. QuТan dropped back, fell in beside Charlie. УCounting paces?Ф
УYes, sir.Ф
УWhereТs your notebook?Ф
УUh, it was getting soggy in the rain, so I put it away. IТm keeping track in my head.Ф
УThatТs a fine way to wind up at South Pole. Next time, bring a waterproof one.Ф
Charlie didnТt answer. He had wanted one, as he had wanted a polarizing sighter and many other things. But the Vaughn family was still scratching for a toehold; luxuries had to wait.
Mr. QuТan looked at Charlie. УIf convenient, that is,Ф he went on gently. УRight now I donТt want you to count paces anyhow.Ф
УSir?Ф
УYou canТt learn everything at once, and today you canТt get lost. I want you to soak up junglecraft. Hans. you two move to the flank. Give Charlie a chance to see what weТre passing through. Lecture him about it.
and for goodnessТ sake try to say more than two words at a time!Ф
УYes, sir.Ф
УAndЧФ The Scoutmaster got no further; he was hailed by the boss of the scavenger gang. УMr. QuТan! SquintТs got a screwbug!Ф
The man said something bitter under his breath, started to run. The two boys followed. The scavengers had been moving a large branch, freshly flamed down. Now they were clustered around one boy, who wa~
gripping his forearm. Mr. QuТ an burst into the group, grabbed the kid by that arm without saying a word, and examined it.
- He shifted his grip so that the skin was drawn tight at one spot, reached for his belt and drew a knifeЧ-dug the point into skin, and, as if he were cutting a bad spot out of an apple, excised a small chunk of flesh. Squint screwed up his face and tears came into his eyes, but he did not cry out.
The scavenger boss had his first-aid kit open. As the Scoutmaster handed his knife to a boy near him, the gang boss placed a shaker bottle in Mr. QuТariТs hand. The Scoutmaster squirted powder into the wound, accepted a pressure patch and plastered it over the cut.
Then he turned sternly to the gang boss. УPete, why didnТt you do it?Ф
- УSquint wanted you.Ф
УSo? Squint, you know better. Next time, let the boy closest to you get itЧor cut it out yourself. It could have gone in another half inch while I was getting to you. And next time be more careful where you put your hands!Ф
The column had halted.- Point. looking back, saw Mr. QuТanТs wave, lifted his own arm and brought it down smartly. They moved on. Charlie said to Hans, УWhatТs a screwbug?Ф
УLittle thing, bright red. Cling underneath leaves.Ф
УWhat do they do to you?Ф
УBurrow in. Abscess. DonТt get Сem out, maybe lose an arm.Ф
УOh.Ф Charlie added, УCould they get on Nixie?Ф
УDoubt it. СCept maybe his nose. Ought to check him over every chance we get. Other things, too.Ф
They were on higher and drier ground now; the bush around them did not go up so high. was not quite as dense. Charlie peered into it, trying to sort out details, while Hans kept up what he probably felt was a lively discourseЧusually one word at a time, such as: УPoison,Ф УPhysic,Ф or УEat those.Ф
УEat what?Ф Charlie asked, when Hans had made the last comment. He looked where Hans pointed, saw nothing looking like fruit, berries or nuts.