Unfortunately what I saw was the ghastliest thing I've ever seen in my life : two men were carving up a third, who lay on the ground.
These guys had sticks, on the ends of which were chunks of meat freshly cut from the carcass. I could only see the outline in the grass, dancing in the glimmer of the fire. They didn't speak Russian or Czech, but something similar. I could understand them. It was how Mikusinec or someone used to witter in the night.
They were just saying that a bottle of something with a bit of a kick to it would slip down nicely with Teddy.
Then one of them took a pinch of ash from the fire and scattered it over the bedarkened grass and said `We thank thee Uncle Ted!'