The Leader stood in front of the entrance to the Cave. The Stairway led down into the darkness. Mme. K. Von Schnauser pulled off her gloves and held them. S. Airedale sniffed the air coming out of the Cave.
"Something has died down there, and recently."
"Precisely." The Leader said.
"But the Old Man told me that there were treasures down there."
"He's clearly out of his mind." Mme. K. Von Schnauser stated, taking another sip of her tea, cup and saucer held delicately in her hands.
"I wouldn't go down there." Mr. S. Airedale added, looking around. The cook had gotten furious with the Leader that morning and had stormed off after he was called, once again, 'Hambone.'
"I think the cook is beginning to loose it too." S. said, looking down into the Cave but thinking of the commotion in camp.
"Nonsense. He serves us, and has served people like us before. Surely he's used to being insulted, and insulted on a regular -basis by Americans...."
No one spoke to contradict the Leader. He could be very insulting to them, too, if offered the opportunity.
"You called us 'stench monkeys' yesterday..." S said finally. "And that's highly insulting..."
"So, you do stink, you're both..."
"I think we all know what we are, individually and as a group. But that, M. the Leader doesn't excuse poor social intercourse from you."
"Hmm." the Leader looked back into the Cave and changed the topic.
"Time to go in." He motioned to the nearby porters to fetch rope and climbing tools, which they did. Adjusting his harness, the Leader went down the Steps at the entrance to the Cave.
"I don't know if we'll see him again." Mr. S. Airedale said, always looking at the negative of any situation that didn't involve food.
