They came to be regarded as simultaneously subhuman, and superhuman.
In the distance, a new sound grows. The clang of metal, plus the rustle, stomp, and symmetry of soldiers marching in formation. The sound grows louder, almost upon Nick now, then he sees coming into view, passing by him maybe 20 yards away: not quite in formation, but definitely together, 8 men. Nick doesn’t hide, but doesn’t move either.
These marching men all look grizzled, rough, like days without sleep rough, like panning for gold with Humphrey Bogart in Treasure of the Sierra Madre rough. Like stay still and don’t make a sound Nick, rough. All dressed alike, like Nick, in canvas work pants and work shirts. They all carry a huge wooden axe with a gleaming metal axe-head straight out of a Frazetta painting.
In all aspects, they appear just like any other man, with one important exception: They all carry that axe with a hydraulic arm. Made of tin.