“Tu-whit-tu-whoo-oo-oo.”
Horrible!
“Bob, my boy, bark, speak, and scare that awful bird.”
“Wowff—wowff—wowff!”
Listen! Hark!
At no great distance we can hear the sharp “Yap! yap! woo-oo” of a shepherd’s collie. No mistaking it. It cannot be a fox, and there are no wolves about.
I take my bearings by a star that shines over the place from which the barking appeared to come, and Bob and I make straight in that direction. To our great joy and relief, we presently emerge from among the black-branched uncanny trees, and on the moor, at no great distance, see a light streaming from the open door of a hut.
A creature very like a wolf, with hair all on end, comes grumbling and yelping in a most threatening way to meet us.
“Let me settle him,” says Bob.
“No, Bob,” I reply. “He is watching his master’s house. He is right.”