The Wolf Patrol Part 39

d.i.c.k dodged behind a tree, let them pa.s.s, then followed closely in the rear.

The astonishment of the three waiting men was very great when their companions arrived with the prisoner. Smiley told the story, laying stress on the warning cry which he had cut short with his throttling clutch. The general opinion was that Chippy had been posted there as a spy, and threats of vengeance were breathed against him.

'Seems to me,' said Smiley, 'we'd better call it no go to-night.

They're on the watch; this is a sure proof of it. We'll ne'er drag yon stretch in safety.'

'I ain't goin' back,' burst out Young Bill, in his thick, savage tones; 'ye can clear out yerself as soon as ye like, Smiley. Yer wor' allus a white-livered un. I'm gooin' to net yon pool to-night if I ha' to do it by myself.'

The three who had been waiting agreed with Young Bill, and Smiley said he was willing to try if all were willing.

'What are we goin' to do with this nipper?' asked one of the men.

'I'll show yer,' growled the big navvy. 'I'll bring 'im along, an' ye bring the things on.'

A great pile of nets had been lying on the ground, and the three men gathered the nets up, and led the way, while the two last-comers followed with the prisoner.

d.i.c.k had watched closely all that went on, and had listened to every word and followed up, using every patch of cover to keep closely in the rear, and burning to strike in on behalf of his brother scout and friend.

For three hundred yards the party tramped along the bank of the little brook, and then a broad, silvery stretch of water opened out before them. The brook ran into a river at the head of a long pool noted for its big trout, and the men were poachers, whose aim was to net this reach of a famous trout-stream. One and all were idle rascals whose boast was that they never did a stroke of honest work while there was 'fish, fur, or feather' to be stolen from the estates of the countryside.

To-night they had come to their rendezvous feeling particularly safe.

A confederate had been posted right on the other side of the estate with instructions to stumble on the alarm-guns set there. These guns were to be set off about a quarter-past one, and the poachers expected that the keepers would be drawn to the sound of the guns, and thus leave them undisturbed at their quiet task of netting the Squire's finest trout-pool. So that when they hit upon the Raven, and persuaded themselves that he was a spy posted near the trout-stream, they were full of vicious fury.

'Fust thing, we'll make sure o' this young limb,' said the navvy, when they had reached the bank of the pool. 'He shall nayther hoot nor run to carry news of us.'

So, with the aid of Smiley, he soon had Chippy lashed to a small beech, the handkerchief fastened tightly over his mouth so that he could neither stir nor speak.

Ten yards away, in cover of a thick patch of hazels, d.i.c.k watched everything. He drew out his knife, opened it, and ran his thumb along the keen edge. 'All right, my fine fellows,' he said to himself, 'get to your work'--for the nets had shown him what they meant to do--'and my chum will be free in a brace of shakes.'

But d.i.c.k reckoned without Smiley. That small, sly old poacher was not there to work; his task was to keep guard. So while the other four undid their bundle of nets, and prepared for a big haul, Smiley moved with the tread of a cat to and fro, watching the prisoner, listening, looking, turning his head this way and that, to detect the first sign or sound of danger. The beech to which the Raven was bound stood by itself on the bank, well away from other trees. This rendered it impossible for d.i.c.k to creep up unseen. He would have to dash out into the moonlight, and the wary watcher would see him and alarm the rest.

No, there was nothing to do but wait awhile and look out for a chance to slip in, knife in hand. So d.i.c.k kept still in cover and watched the poachers as they worked busily in the light of the sinking moon.

CHAPTER XLII

DRAGGING THE POOL--A LITTLE SURPRISE

First a net was stretched across the head of the pool. Young Bill jumped into the water and waded across waist deep with one end of the net, while a confederate paid it out from the bank. The foot of the net was loaded with leaden weights, and lay close to the bed of the stream: the top was buoyed with corks and floated on the surface.

Thus, when the net was carried across and pegged into the opposite bank, a wall of fine mesh lay across the stream.

Now the big navvy waded back, and a second net--a drag-net--was carried to the foot of the pool. This time three of them plunged into the water, and drew the net across the stream. Of the three, two remained in the water, the third clambered out on the opposite bank. The net was arranged, and then the four poachers began to draw it slowly up-stream, one working on each bank and two in the water.

Now, trout always lie with their noses pointing upstream, and when alarmed dash away in that direction. But this time there was a wall of net to intercept their flight, and as the drag-net was brought up and up, the fish would be enclosed between the two nets and caught.

While these preparations were going on, d.i.c.k had watched eagerly for a chance that never came. Smiley remained too close to the gagged and pinioned captive for d.i.c.k to chance a rush, and the poacher was armed with a heavy stick.

'I wish the moon would go down,' thought d.i.c.k, and glanced over his shoulder towards the west. He started, and looked again. Two figures were creeping almost on hands and knees across a moonlit patch of turf, quite close to him.

'Keepers!' whispered d.i.c.k to himself. 'Here come the keepers!' for the velveteens and gaiters of the crawling men announced who they were.

d.i.c.k was hidden in complete shade, and the patch of hazels where he lay hid the new-comers both from the watcher and the working poachers.

d.i.c.k's heart gave a leap of joy.

'They'll attack at once,' he thought, 'and then I can get Chippy free.'

But to his surprise there was no attack. The two keepers glided into shelter of a holly patch and vanished. There was neither sign nor sound from them. d.i.c.k, of course, could not know that the keepers were biding their time, for they wished to take the poachers in confusion, and it was very likely the biters would be bit.

The truth was that an inkling of the raid had been gained from words let fall by a drunken poacher in the village inn, and the pool had been prepared. Across the middle of it a long weighted log had been sunk, and in this log a number of old scythe blades, their edges whetted as keen as razors, had been fixed in an upright position. The edges were turned down-stream, and the keepers were waiting until the drag-net should be brought upon this cunning engine of destruction.

Presently there was a hitch in the dragging.

'Wait a bit,' said one of the poachers; 'she's caught a bit somewheer or other. Pull a bit harder, Young Bill.'

The navvy pulled hard, but to no purpose.

'It's out towards the middle o' the pool,' he growled, 'an' I dursn't go a step fudder in. I'm nigh out o' my depth already.'

'We'll get on the bank,' said the other man who was in the water.

'We'll have a better purchase for a tug at her then.'

He climbed out on the farther side, and Young Bill climbed out on the nearer. Then the four men bent to it, and hauled on the net with all their might. No use: it was stuck as fast as ever.

'Ye want to pull harder, boys,' called out Smiley.

Young Bill exploded into a volley of imprecations addressed to the watchman.

'Hark at 'im,' growled the navvy--'pull harder; we're to pull harder while 'e slinks about on the bank. Come an' lend a hand yerself, an'

be quick about it, or I'll sling ye into the river.'

Smiley ran at once, for he stood in great dread of his violent accomplice, and knew that the threat was a perfectly serious one. For a few moments there was a busy interchange of remarks and opinions as the baffled poachers discussed the possibilities of the case, and decided that a water-logged branch was at the bottom of the trouble.

While they were talking d.i.c.k was acting. No sooner did he see the watchman called off guard than he began to wriggle like an eel across the turf towards the beech, keeping the trunk of the tree between himself and the poachers. His keen knife made short work of Chippy's bonds, gag included, and the Raven was free. The latter slipped round the trunk, and the two scouts glided quickly back into cover of the hazels.

'Good old Wolf,' whispered Chippy, drawing a few deep breaths. 'I felt sure ye'd be somewheer handy. I owe ye a vote o' thanks. It's carried unanermously.'

'Oh, dry up, Chippy,' whispered his comrade. 'As if you wouldn't have done the same for me. What luck the rascals got into a fix! That gave me a chance. But, Chippy, there are keepers over there, watching them.'

'Keepers!' breathed Chippy in amazement. 'Why don't they collar 'em?'--and even as he spoke, the scouts learned why the keepers had delayed their attack.

'Now, altogether,' cried young Bill at the waterside, and the five poachers bent for a last tremendous tug which would free their net.

The net was freed, but not exactly in the style they hoped for. There was a sudden, keen _Cr-r-r-ris.h.!.+_ of snapping, parting meshes, and the net, cut clean into two by the scythe blades, came to sh.o.r.e in two halves, one on either bank.

It gave, at the last, so suddenly that the hauling rogues were taken completely by surprise. At one moment they were pulling against a tremendous resistance; at the next there was none, and they went head over heels, all five of them, the three on the nearer side piled in a heap.

Upon this heap the two keepers darted, and at the same moment a keeper and a policeman appeared on the other bank. The yell of surprise which burst from the lips of the rogues as they went to earth was still ringing in the air when they felt the grip of justice fastened on their collars, and knew that the game had gone against them on every score.

The gigantic navvy broke away from his captors and ran. A keeper pursued him, caught him up, and closed with him. There was a short, fierce struggle, and both men went down headlong, locked together in a savage grapple. The keeper was undermost, and the weight of his huge opponent knocked the breath out of him for the moment. The poacher leapt up, and aimed a terrific kick at his fallen opponent. The man would have received a severe injury had not the scouts swept into action at the very nick of time.