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
'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.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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