“My!” exclaimed Archie.—“I say, Down, why, it can’t be those reptiles, is it? What a row!”
“There’s no mistake about it,” said the Captain. “Why, they must be having a party.” For the wallowing and splashing grew louder than ever.
“Here, I know what it is,” cried Archie merrily. “They can smell Private Smithers here. He’s such a big, well-fed chap that they have gathered together for a feast.”
“Yes, sir; that’s it,” said the man.
“But they haven’t been going on like this before, have they?”
“Just as bad, sir, all the time; and every now and then one of them barks at me just like a wolf.”
“Just like a wolf?” said the Captain. “What do you know about wolves? You never kept a wolf.”
“No, sir. They are not the sort of things I should like to make a pet dog on; but I’ve heerd them lots of times in Canady heigh-ho where they chase the buffalo.”
“Ah, to be sure. You have been in the regiment longer than I have. Well, these brutes are going it! Why, Maine, we ought to have brought our guns and had some shooting.”
“Too dark to see them.”