The Wolf Patrol Part 30

'Come on!' yelled d.i.c.k; 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 d.i.c.k 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 jacka.s.s!' roared d.i.c.k; and then the two boys burst into a peal of laughter almost as loud as the brays of the a.s.saulted 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 d.i.c.k, 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 jacka.s.s 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 d.i.c.k. '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 jacka.s.s a-cavortin' round, I was wellnigh frit out o' my senses.'

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k.

'We'd better turn in again, I reckon,' said Chippy, 'or we won't be fit to goo on our tramp again to-morrow.'

d.i.c.k 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 s.h.i.+ning full upon them.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

THE MARCH RESUMED

'Here's a jolly morning, Chippy!' cried d.i.c.k, unrolling himself from his blanket and springing to his feet. 'The sun's hot already. We're going to have another splendid day.'

The Raven sprang up in turn, and the scouts shook out their blankets, and tossed them across a furze-bush close at hand to air before they packed them away. The fire had burned down, but they soon revived it by tossing armfuls of their bed upon it, and in a couple of minutes the larch needles were crackling by thousands as the flames ran through the tindery tips. The logs were carried back, and carefully replaced on the heap from which they had been taken.

Next they went down to the river, stripped, plunged into the clear, cool stream, and swam about like a couple of young otters. There were no towels in the outfit, so when they came to land again they rubbed off as much water as they could with their handkerchiefs, and finished drying by turning about fifty Catherine-wheels on a sunny patch of the bank. When they were dressed again, they were glowing with warmth, felt as fit as a fiddle, and were ravening for breakfast.

'What's the bill of fare, cook?' laughed d.i.c.k.

'Bread, tea, an' trout,' growled Chippy, 'an' a nailin' good brekfus too. I wish as everybody 'ad got as good.'

'Right for you, old boy,' replied d.i.c.k; 'which trout shall we have?'

'Yourn, the big un,' replied the Raven. 'I'll show yer how to cook 'im proper.'

The fire had burned away to the glowing embers which the camp cook loves, and Chippy, having gutted the fish, broiled it in the hot ashes, while d.i.c.k boiled water, and made the tea, and cut more slices from the loaf.

Then they attacked the broiled trout, and, big as it was, they made it look rather foolish before they had finished. The piece that was left Chippy wrapped up in dock-leaves and stowed away in the haversack.

'Come in handy next go,' he remarked.

After breakfast they sat for an hour to see the fire out, and Chippy took the line from the rod and put it away.

Then they got into marching trim again, took their staves in their hands, and set off up the valley. Twice or thrice they looked back at the spot where they had made their first camp, but soon a spinney hid it from their view.

'Good old spot,' said d.i.c.k. 'I shall never forget it. It was a jolly good camp for a start, Chippy.'

'Yus,' agreed the Raven, 'spite o' the jacka.s.s. Theer he is.'

There he was indeed, a placid brown-coated old donkey, cropping the gra.s.s on the common on which he had been turned out. The boys gave him a cheer, and the donkey, when he heard their shout, lifted his head and brayed long and sonorously, as if he understood all about it, and was eager to reply.

Tuesday morning's march was fairly uneventful. The comrades did quite a number of good turns for people, for, like good scouts, their eyes were always on the watch for anyone who needed a helping hand, and Chippy commented on the number of chances which turned up.

'Rum, ain't it?' he remarked; 'afore I wor a scout, I never used to twig how many chances there are o' lendin' a hand. I s'pose they wor'

theer, only I ne'er seed 'em.'

'That's about it,' said d.i.c.k. 'I've noticed just the same thing myself. Doing your work as a scout teaches you how to keep your eyes open.'

Midday brought them to the edge of a wide stretch of heath country, where they were quite at home. They halted as soon as they reached the heath, built their fire, and made a good meal on the smaller trout, the remains of the big one, the remains of the loaf, and a billy of tea.

The afternoon journey lay directly across the great, lonely track, and they only saw two or three small hamlets, dwellings of broom-squires, heath- and furze-cutters, or squatters. As the afternoon wore on the sky began to wear an ominous look. The scouts had seen several signs that rain was near. For one thing, a very sure sign, distant ridges had shown themselves sharply clear in the afternoon suns.h.i.+ne, and had looked far nearer then they were. Now great blue-black clouds began to roll slowly up the western sky.

'Going to be a rough night, Chippy,' said the Wolf.

'No mistake, d.i.c.k,'replied his companion; 'it'll be too wet for the open to-night. We'll have to look for shelter.'

'If we can only do a turn for someone and get permission to sleep in the hayloft,' went on d.i.c.k, 'that would be first-rate. We don't want to spend money on lodgings.'

'Soon bust the ten bob that way,' grunted Chippy.' 'Look, theer's a village right ahead, wi' trees an' fields. We'll be out o' the he'th soon. P'raps we can manage it there.'

The scouts pushed on steadily. They did not know it, but an adventure awaited them which would settle the question of the night's lodging.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE

On the outskirts of the village a mill-wheel droned lazily as the boys swung at scout's stride down the road. Suddenly the drone died away, and by the time the comrades were abreast of the quaint old wooden water-mill the wheel was still, and its day's work was ended.

The hatches were raised, and the water, no longer turned to its task, was pouring at a swift race into a pool below. The race was crossed by a small wooden bridge with a single handrail, and over the rail hung a little girl, about seven or eight years old, watching the swiftly running water.