Pretty soon we began to hear voices. The eight of us put our heads up at about the same time; then sank down again out of sight, and I heard Skinny whisper, "Jerusalem!" and Bill saying "Great snakes!" to himself.
We lay there for a moment, looking at each other and not knowing what to do. Then Benny spoke up.
"Come on, fellers," said he. "Who's afraid of them? It's only a lot of girls."
That's what it was. About twelve high-school girls were sitting there under a tree, with lunch baskets around, looking at Greylock and waiting for it to be time to eat. There was no way for us to pass without being seen except to go back and around through Plunkett's woods, and we didn't want to do that.
"Let's scare 'em," said Skinny at last. "We'll yell the way we did on Greylock that time we scared the wild cat."
"It's all right to scare 'em," said Hank, "for they haven't any business on our hill. But a girl ain't a wild cat or anything like it, and you never can tell what she will do. They may not scare worth a cent."
"I'll tell you what," I said. "If we all yell, they'll know that it must be the Band. So let's have only one yell. Give Bill a chance and there will be something doing."
We left Bill and crawled up to where we could see them and they couldn't see us. Then he commenced.
Say, I've heard Bill Wilson a lot of times, but I never heard anything like that. Although I knew what was doing it, shivers chased up and down my back, until I 'most forgot about the girls.
He started with a moan like he was in pain. Then for a minute it sounded as if a whole menagerie had been turned loose, with a dog fight in the middle. From the midst of the dog fight came a blood-curdling screech which died away again in a moan and sob, and then all was still while Bill was getting his breath for another.