He stooped and patted the dog, which came trotting up to us, and then yawned and stretched himself out.
“Here I am,” said Jack Penny, involuntarily imitating his dog. “Here, where’s that chap Jimmy? He was to watch with me, wasn’t he? Is it time?”
“Time! Yes,” I said impatiently. “You ought to have been here two hours ago. He’ll have to look out, won’t he, doctor, for that tiger or wild man.”
“Yah! stuff!” said Jack with a sneer. “I sha’n’t see no— hullo! what has Gyp found? Look, there’s something there.”
We all turned to see the dog, which had picked up some scent about half-way between the fire and the edge of the circle of light. He ran at once to the thick bushes, barked angrily, and then followed the scent round and round the fire at the distance of about twenty yards, ending by dashing right off into the forest depths, his bark growing fainter as we listened.
“I say, ought we to follow Gyp?” said Jack Penny.
“If we wish to lose our lives,” replied the doctor. “You see, Joe, it has gone right off.”
“But I don’t like Gyp to go off after anything and not follow him,” cried Jack Penny. “He’s a good dog, you know. What is it he’s after?”
“Some savage beast that has been haunting us all night,” cried the doctor. “I should like to follow Gyp, but it would be madness, my lads, and—hark, what’s that?”
I felt cold as a most unearthly howl came from a long distance away.