ep on thinking like that, my boy, you won''t be left either. Turn off the thinking now, old timer, old comrade. You''re a bridge-blower now. Not a thinker. Man, I''m hungry, he thought. I hope Pablo eats well.
2
They had come through the heavy timber to the cup-shaped upper end of the little valley and he saw where the camp must be under the rim-rock that rose ahead of them through the trees.
That was the camp all right and it was a good camp. You did not see it at all until you were up to it and Robert Jordan knew it could not be spotted from the air. Nothing would show from above. It was as well hidden as a bear''s den. But it seemed to be little better guarded. He looked at it carefully as they came up.
There was a large cave in the rim-rock formation and beside the opening a man sat with his back against the rock, his legs stretched out on the ground and his carbine leaning against the rock. He was cutting away on a stick with a knife and he stared at them as they came up, then went on whittling.
"_Hola_," said the seated man. "What is this that comes"
"The old man and a dynamiter," Pablo told him and lowered the pack inside the entrance to the cave. Anselmo lowered his pack, too, and Robert Jordan unslung the rifle and leaned it against the rock.
"Don''t leave it so close to the cave," the whittling man, who had blue eyes in a dark, good-looking lazy gypsy face, the color of smoked leather, said. "There''s a fire in there."