DEAD AND WOUNDED I53 



absence, after having fed Coso with pieces of fresh meat, we 

 put two spoons of water down his gullet. The poor chap 

 passed away with diarrhoea three days later. The next to 

 leave us, stricken by the heat, terribly thin and probably 

 suffering from some tropical disease, was poor, faithful Eros. 

 One day he flopped down on to the deck of the Formica 2Lnd 

 wagged his tail for the last time. He was given a sailor's 

 burial with full marine honours. 



Sehil, the peHcan, was the most diflicult to cope with. For 

 him it was a problem of pride. He was touchy about his 

 food. He never accorded his warders a glance. They fought 

 gallantly, thrusting sardine after sardine down his throat, 

 and probably because of his defective bill (he had evidently 

 been wounded in the past) he spat eighty per cent of these 

 out. The few he managed to swallow were not enough to 

 keep him alive. His death was felt by all, including the crew 

 who whenever they weighed anchor had had his assistance. 



Gregory the seagull, mascot of the expedition, had a 

 curious, tragic end. Gregory had only one fault: sublime 

 stupidity. And it was this that took him to the shades. When 

 he was on the Formica we kept him tied by the leg to the 

 bows, not so much to prevent his flying off as to protect him 

 from falling prey to the buzzards, kites and vultures buzzing 

 around the neighbourhood. Whenever we moved he came 

 too, and kept guard over the encampment. One day, Gigi, 

 Priscilla and Cecco landed on the desolate waste of the island 

 of Ota. Before setting out for the interior on reconnaissance 

 Gregory had been fastened up — now routine — in the bows of 

 the Formica to await their return. When they came back after 

 a few hours, they found the string snapped and no Gregory. 

 They returned to shore and found the claw-marks of our 

 friend imprinted in the sand and going in the direction of 

 the desert. They followed the tracks until they came to solid 



