The Wolf Patrol: A Tale of Baden-Powell's Boy ScoutsFinnemore, John
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The Wolf Patrol: A Tale of Baden-Powell's Boy Scouts
Finnemore, John
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Boy Scouts -- Juvenile fiction
'Pull straight ahead,' said a voice, which seemed almost in his ear.
He turned his face, and his heart leapt in his side. The muffled
rowlocks and sweeps had brought the boat almost full upon him in
silence, and the ruffian who sought his life was springing into the
bows armed with the boat-hook. The boy scout saw all this clearly in
the moonlight--saw the second man pulling with a terrified face turned
over his shoulder, saw the heavy, iron-shod pole swinging aloft to fall
upon his head. He drew a long breath, and filled his lungs deeply. As
he did so, the shadow of the bow fell upon him, and at that instant he
dived like a water-hen. There was a tremendous splash just at his ear,
and a heavy blow was dealt on his shoulder, driving him deeper still.
He turned over on his back, and opened his eyes, for he had closed them
at the instant of diving. He saw directly above him a dark mass, and
knew that he was under the boat. It passed slowly on, and he rose, and
his face came to the surface and was brushed by a rope. He seized the
rope and hung on, and drew, cautiously, a deep breath. He looked
round, and found that he had caught the painter as it dragged astern,
and that the way of the boat was checked. Then Chippy heard a voice.
'Pull round a bit,' it asid; 'we shall soon see if he rises again or
no.'
'Not he,' said another voice, which quavered. 'Never! never! He'll
ne'er rise again after that frightful crack you hit him. I shall hear
it all my days.'
The hardier ruffian chuckled. 'I did fetch him a good un,' he said--'a
reg'lar oner. I felt the hook light on him. But pull, I tell
ye--pull! There's no time for moanin' an' groanin' now.'
Chippy felt that way was being given to the boat, and he struck out
softly with one arm and both feet in order that he should not drag on
the boat and betray his presence. By the aid of the painter, he could
keep his head low behind the broad stern, and quite out of sight of the
two rogues in the boat.
His shoulder ached where the boat-hook had fallen upon it, but the blow
had not been disabling, for the force had been partly broken by the
water. In one way, it was very lucky for the scout that he had
received this sharp crack, for the thief who sought his life was now
fully under the impression that the boy had been beaten under. This
caused the two rogues to be less thorough in their search for a head
showing above the water. The boat was gently paddled round the spot
where Chippy had disappeared, but the men did not move to and fro in
the boat, glancing on every side. Had they done so, the head bobbing
along under the stern would have been discovered, and there would have
been a short shrift for the daring scout.
'He'll never come up--never,' said the rower, his voice still unsteady;
'you stunned him, an' I've heard as anyone stunned will never rise
again.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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