How Teddy Roosevelt Slew the Last Mighty T-Rex (2 page)

Roosevelt woke early, greeting the new day in much the same way as he did every morning since leaving the relative comforts of the steamship
Nyoac
and beginning the overland journey. He stretched some kinks in his neck and back, took a deep breath, and then strolled to the encampment’s edge for his morning constitutional. Returning gratified and reinvigorated, he ritualistically shielded his head with netting before sitting down and documenting the previous day’s events.

Despite the early hour, Roosevelt noticed the expedition’s makeshift camp already stirring with hushed Portuguese chatter and restless pack animals. Colonel Rondon’s assembly of rough-and-tumble
camaradas
—the expedition’s laborers, porters, and future paddlers—lined up with military precision against the backdrop of the isolated
Bonifácio
telegraph station. Roosevelt chuckled inwardly, watching the diminutive Rondon donned in camouflage Khakis pacing before his rugged men with his hands clasped behind his back and barking his daily orders like Alexander the Great leading his men against the Persian Empire at the Battle of the Granicus.

Cândido Rondon was the type of man
Theodore Roosevelt could not help but admire. Barely five feet three, the Brazilian Colonel’s regal bearing and rugged forthrightness and adherence to strict discipline embodied just about every trait that Roosevelt himself advocated passionately his entire storied life. Rondon was already a national hero for his ventures across uncivilized Brazil, and it was he and his trusted Lieutenant Joao Lyra who, just a few years previously, had discovered and mapped the expedition’s targeted destination: the headwaters of the River of Doubt.

Roosevelt initially thought Rondon’s daily military ritual a bit overindulgent, especially for a civilian scientific expedition. Only later, and after getting just a small taste of the harshness of the Brazilian wilderness, did the former president fully comprehend the extreme nature of their mission. Colonel Rondon knew beforehand what Colonel Roosevelt could only have imagined before setting out on this adventure. Armed with the experience of leading men through these lands Rondon fully understood that conditions could deteriorate quickly, and the jungle could overwhelm and suffocate the unprepared with unmerciful ruthlessness. And it wasn’t long before the intuitive
Roosevelt realized that
strict discipline and ritual would bind these men together when all appeared hopeless—frankly, it would become their only chance at survival.

Rondon dismissed his camaradas to their daily tasks, and the men dispersed to feed and pack the stubborn mules and volatile oxen. Roosevelt finished up his notes and joined the naturalists Cherrie and Miller by the fire for a bold cup of boiled coffee and a rationed breakfast. The ever-dedicated doctor
Cajazeira remained
amongst the camaradas dispensing the men’s daily dose of quinine. “One can never take enough precautions against malaria,” Roosevelt would hear him preach often and repeatedly. “It would be foolish to miss even a single day’s ration while the life-saving drug is readily available.” Teddy Roosevelt quickly acquired a great deal of confidence in the expedition’s doctor, and it wasn’t long before the doctor’s sermons were ingrained into the expedition’s collective consciousness.

Kermit emerged from his hut and staggered to the fire. Roosevelt could not help but notice his son’s long and drawn face, which Teddy presumed was from a lack of restful sleep. Wordlessly, Kermit poured a cup of coffee and scooped a tin of steaming beans.

Theodore Roosevelt’s breakfast routine usually consisted of as much chit-chat as the taciturn Cherrie and the patient Miller could stomach. Kermit knew his gregarious father far too well and generally kept to himself, although he chucked gently on occasion, watching the expedition’s members weather the storm of incessant blather. Colonel Rondon, perhaps out of respect for Roosevelt’s military rank, offered the ex-president his most patient audience, and Roosevelt, true to his easygoing nature, always appreciated the gesture. Roosevelt often mused of his and Rondon’s nearly polar opposite personalities, and yet how fitting the co-commanders grew to understand each other so very well.

Rondon finished up relaying his final orders to his designated leader of the native camaradas
—a strong and hard-nosed taskmaster
named Paishon, a sergeant in Brazil’s Fifth Battalion of Engineers and a veteran of several of Rondon’s telegraph expeditions. The wiry Brazilian Colonel strolled to the fire and mixed himself a cup of herbal tea. Taking up a chair beside Roosevelt, he took a long sip. Roosevelt delighted in watching Rondon’s eyes glow following such a trifling indulgence.

“Good morning
senhor
Roosevelt.”

“And a hardy
bom dia
to you, Colonel Rondon.” Roosevelt pushed his spectacles to the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted to say that I have been very impressed with your choice of leaders on this expedition. I like this man Paishon. He’s as strong as an ox and has an excellent work ethic, and he leads by example. Good for him.”

Rondon smiled faintly as if lost momentarily within his own thoughts. “
Sim, obrigado
, Colonel Roosevelt. Paishon has been loyal to me
through several of the Commission’s expeditions. I can proudly say we have survived some very hard times together.”

“Well, he is welcome on any of my future expeditions anywhere in the world. You can tell him so
—anywhere, anytime
. And I stand by my word. That is, if I can gather the strength and the willpower to leave New York and the States once again following this relentless grind.”

Rondon took another sip of tea. “I will tell him.”

Roosevelt laughed. “Oh, and I did not mean to imply that I was contemplating stealing him from you. I know good men are hard to find, especially amongst the native populations.”

Rondon shook his head. “I took no offense, Colonel. This man Paishon is free to come and go as he pleases.”

“Good, good.”

A bustle among the livestock caught both commanders’ attention. Two bucking and snorting mules broke loose and tossed their newly packed burdens to the ground. Four camaradas chased the mutineers down in what looked to Roosevelt like a comical rodeo. The camaradas had everything back under control a minute later.

Rondon shook his head. “The pack-animals are losing their minds, I fear.” He pointed to the north. “Luckily, only thirteen miles lie between us and the Dúvida headwaters. We will meet up with Captain Amilcar and the rest of our provisions six miles from here. There, we can divide our rations for the river journey. I pray the majority of our animals survive until then.”

“I’m sure they’ll oblige,” Roosevelt replied. “But I feel the acquisition of canoes is a more pressing concern at this juncture. Have you any new ideas in this regard since we last spoke?”

“I’m afraid nothing has changed,
senhor
.” Rondon poked a stick into the fire. “The camaradas will require a week to construct the dugouts once we arrive at the embarkation point. Several years ago I supervised the construction of a small bridge spanning the river’s upper tributary. From there, we will launch downriver and to the north.”

Roosevelt rubbed his chin. “This is very unfortunate, of course. A more efficient expenditure of our time would be to proceed downriver immediately and not waste precious rations camping in the wilderness and building boats.”

“Yes
, senhor
Colonel, yet simply swimming through the rapids would be even more problematic, do you not think?”

Roosevelt laughed hardily. “That is an excellent point, dear man.” He sighed. “Well, I guess there is nothing we can do now but succumb to fate, for it has certainly dealt us a troubling hand.”

“Unfortunately, that may be—”

 
Roosevelt interrupted with a pointing finger. Teddy noticed several camaradas staring to the south and toward the desolate scrubby forest of the high plateau. All activity around the telegraph station suddenly and eerily ceased.

 
Kermit and the naturalist Cherrie slowly rose to their feet. “What is it?” Cherrie asked.

“I thought I heard a human holler,” Kermit whispered, waving his fingers gently toward the wilderness’s edge. “But I might’ve been mistaken.”

Just then, Paishon sprinted back toward Rondon and Roosevelt. He arrived panting. “Nhambiquara,” he said to Rondon in Portuguese. Teddy Roosevelt knew enough of the language to thoroughly understand.

Colonel Rondon nodded.

Kermit reached for his gun, drawing an almost instantaneous reaction from the normally unflappable Rondon. “No,” he hissed.

Teddy Roosevelt was acutely aware that Colonel Rondon remained a tireless advocate for native’s rights. He was one of the first men who dared approach the Nhambiquara tribes just a handful of years before—until then, the Nhambiquara would simply kill any outsiders who attempted contact. This was an extreme act of bravery in Roosevelt’s eyes and he deferred any command decisions regarding the natives to the heroic Brazilian commander.

“Put that gun away. And I do not want to see any firearms for the duration of their visit. No exceptions!”

Theodore Roosevelt caught Kermit’s eye and then nodded subtly. Kermit backed down. Hurriedly, the younger Roosevelt hid the rifle under a pile of palm fronds.

Paishon ran to the station’s boundary before halting abruptly. He cupped his rough-hewn hands to his mouth and released a loud howl.

They waited. The wilderness answered back a few moments later.

Paishon repeated this ritual several times while the rest of the expedition remained frozen like statues. Roosevelt took a few measured breaths.

Teddy Roosevelt noticed several black faces emerge from the wilds. They trickled out slowly at first, eventually building to a crowd of perhaps three or four dozen. The men, women, and children were completely naked except for some of the grown men, who wore a band around their waist that covered virtually nothing. Like all of the Nhambiquara tribes they had encountered over the last few weeks, the men had pierced noses and lips filled with fine rings of straw. The natives’ wide smiles put the expedition’s members at ease.

“A friendly visit?” Kermit muttered.

“Indeed.” Cherrie replied tepidly.

Roosevelt watched Colonel Rondon huddle with Lieutenant Lyra for a brief moment. Lyra nodded curtly and then wandered away. Roosevelt thought he overheard the Portuguese words
observar
and
segurar
: “watch” and “hold”. Teddy agreed wholeheartedly with Rondon’s carefully executed precautions. Useful items and even animals often had the misfortune of “disappearing” following a Nhambiquara visit.

Several Nhambiquara men strolled directly to Rondon. They all smiled broadly and jabbered without pause, pushing uncomfortably close to the Brazilian commander in the same manner that Roosevelt had observed at other native villages. Only Rondon and Paishon appeared to understand even a few of their words. A rather large group of women and children congregated around Roosevelt. They laughed and smiled and whispered, forming an ever-tightening circle around the former president.

Rondon muttered, “Word must have spread that you are a great and famous chief.”

Feeling a bit stifled, Roosevelt politely pushed some of the natives aside. He strode to the center of the encampment pulling his entourage along with him. Two malnourished dogs followed the natives into camp. They each wore collars of beads around their scrawny necks. Kermit’s dog Trigueiro and Rondon’s companion Lobo ran out eagerly to greet them. Roosevelt watched with pity as Trigueiro and Lobo sniffed their unfortunate cousins, never bothering to take the typically aggressive dog-like stance when confronting strange animals of their ilk.
Even our dogs were sympathetic to their plight,
he thought.

Kermit and Cherrie returned with cameras. The Nhambiquara men lined up with their bows and arrows for what appeared to be an exhibition of some sort. The natives pulled the bows tight and pointed straight upwards. Slowly they lowered their bows, aiming at the target before releasing their arrows. They repeated this odd maneuver whilst missing the majority of their shots, often quite badly.

Kermit took a photograph and shook his head. He turned to his father saying, “If their intention is to intimidate, they are doing a very poor job.”

Roosevelt noticed two older native men making a grand entrance with noses tilted upward. They each had three or four female companions who strode gracefully beside them carrying various items. The women appeared to be well treated and also well fed.

“And now arrives the aristocracy,” Cherrie mumbled.