CHAPTER XXXII

TERRORS OF THE NIGHT

It was not until they lay down and waited for sleep that the boys felt

the oddness and queerness of this first night in the open. Bustling

round, making the fire, cooking, rigging up their camp, eating supper,

fishing--all those things had kept at bay the silence and loneliness

which now seemed to settle down upon them like a pall. They were quite

comfortable. Each was wrapped snugly in his blanket. The bed of

larch-tips was dry and springy. The haversacks, stuffed with the

smallest tips, formed capital pillows. Yet sleep did not come at once.

After a time Dick spoke.

'Listen to the river,' he said.

'Rum, ain't it?' replied Chippy. 'Daytime it didn't seem to mek' no

noise at all. Now yer can't hear nothin' else.'

The river, as a river always does, had found its voice in the dark: it

purred and plashed, while over a shallow some distance below, its

waters ran with a shrill babbling, and a steady roar, unheard by day,

came up from a distant point where it thundered over a weir.

'Good job we made a rattlin' fire afore we turned in,' remarked the

Raven; 'seems like comp'ny, don't it?'

'Rather,' said Dick; and both boys lay for a time watching the dancing

gleams, as the good beech logs blazed up and threw the light of their

flames into the depths of the hanger which rose above the camp.

Sleep came to Dick without his knowing it, but his sleep had a rude

awakening. He woke with the echo of a dreadful cry in his ears. For a

moment he looked stupidly about, utterly at a loss to discover where he

was. Then the cry came again--a horrible, screaming cry--and he sat

up, with his heart going nineteen to the dozen.

'Chippy!' he cried, 'are you awake? What was that?'

'I dunno,' said the Raven, sitting up too. 'But worn't it awful?'

The cry came again, and the two boys, their heads still heavy with

sleep, were filled with horror at its wild, wailing note.

'Sounds like some'dy bein' murdered,' gasped Chippy. 'An' the fire's

gone. Ain't it dark?'

The fire had gone down, and was now no more than a heap of smouldering

ashes. Heavy clouds had drawn across the sky, and the darkness under

the hanger was thick enough to cut with a knife. The two boys crouched

together side by side and quaked. This was pretty frightful, to be

roused in the dead dark time of the small hours by this horrible outcry.

Suddenly Dick jumped.

'Chippy!' he whispered breathlessly, '_there's someone about. I hear

them._'

Both boys listened with strained ears, and caught distinctly the sound

of light footfalls near at hand.

'_Theer's more'n one,_' gasped Chippy.

The gentle, creeping footfalls came nearer and nearer in the darkness.

'G-g-gimme the chopper!' whispered the Raven, and his voice was shaking.

'I--I--I've got it,' replied Dick; and his fingers were clenched with

the grasp of despair round the smooth handle of the tomahawk.

Chippy drew his jack-knife, opened it, and gripped it in his left hand

like a dagger. In his right he had seized his strong patrol staff.

A sharp puff of wind blew along the foot of the slope. It fanned the

embers of the dying fire, and a little flame ran up a twig, flickered

for a moment, then died as suddenly as it had leapt up. But the boys

were stiff with horror. It had shown them a strange dark form

crouching within three or four yards of the opposite side of the heap

of ashes.

'W-w-what is it?' said Dick.

'I--I--I dunno,' replied Chippy.

Another stronger puff of wind, and a little train of bright sparks shot

into the air. Now the boys saw two great gleaming eyes, low down,

within a foot of the ground, like some creature crouching to spring,

and again the awful wild cry rang out some little distance away.

'Oh--oh--Chippy!' gasped Dick, 'I'm j-j-jolly frightened.'

'S-s-same 'ere,' returned the Raven.

'So I'm going b-b-bang at it, whatever it is.'

'S-s-same 'ere,' muttered the Raven, with chattering jaws.

'Come on!' yelled Dick; and the two scouts threw aside their blankets,

bounded to their feet, and dashed at the monster in the dusk beyond the

fire. Chippy was nearer, and his patrol staff dealt the first blow.

Down it came with a thundering whack on something; then Dick sailed in

with the tomahawk. But he had no chance to put in his blow, for the

creature was off and away, with a thud of galloping hoofs, and a

terrific snort of surprise and alarm. Twenty yards away it paused, and

made the river-bank resound again--'Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!'

'Why, it's a confounded old jackass!' roared Dick; and then the two

boys burst into a peal of laughter almost as loud as the brays of the

assaulted donkey.

'Well, I'm blest!' said Chippy, 'if that ain't a good un. The least I

thought on wor' some tramps comin' to pinch all we'd got.'

'But what made that frightful noise?' asked Dick, as they went back to

the fire and began to pile fresh logs on from a heap which had been

stacked away.

'I dunno,' replied his comrade; 'it wor' pretty rum. No jackass as

ever lived 'ud mek' a row like that.'

They sat for a while by the fire, which soon burned up cheerfully, and

made the camp seem home-like at once. Suddenly the wild cry broke out

again, this time straight over their heads. The boys looked up

quickly, and saw a bird flitting silently across the light of the merry

blaze.

'Theer it is!' cried Chippy--'theer it is! A scritch-owl--naught else.'

'Is that a screech-owl?' said Dick. 'I've heard of a screech-owl many

a time, but never heard its call. It's a jolly horrid sound.'

'Ain't it?' rejoined Chippy. 'Wot between wakin' up sudden, and

hearin' 'im 'oot, an' th' ole jackass a-cavortin' round, I was wellnigh

frit out o' my senses.'

Dick laughed and poked the fire with a stick. The logs flared up, and

the pleasant blaze was warm and comforting. He looked at his watch.

'It's just half-past two,' he said. 'Fancy, Chippy, half-past two in

the morning, and we're sitting by a camp fire.'

'It's great,' said Chippy; then he gave a tremendous yawn.

'Feeling sleepy?' said Dick.

'We'd better turn in again, I reckon,' said Chippy, 'or we won't be fit

to goo on our tramp again to-morrow.'

Dick nodded in agreement, and the boys added a few fresh pieces of wood

to the fire, and rolled themselves up once more in their blankets. In

a few moments they were soundly off to sleep again, and when they were

wakened next time it was by the sun clearing the ridge and shining full

upon them.

The Wolf Patrol: A Tale of Baden-Powell's Boy Scouts · 第 32 / 51 章