'Well, I'm blest!' said Chippy, 'if that ain't a good un. The least I thought on wor' some tramps comin' to pinch all we'd got.'
'But what made that frightful noise?' asked Dick, as they went back to the fire and began to pile fresh logs on from a heap which had been stacked away.
'I dunno,' replied his comrade; 'it wor' pretty rum. No jackass as ever lived 'ud mek' a row like that.'
They sat for a while by the fire, which soon burned up cheerfully, and made the camp seem home-like at once. Suddenly the wild cry broke out again, this time straight over their heads. The boys looked up quickly, and saw a bird flitting silently across the light of the merry blaze.
'Theer it is!' cried Chippy—'theer it is! A scritch-owl—naught else.'
'Is that a screech-owl?' said Dick. 'I've heard of a screech-owl many a time, but never heard its call. It's a jolly horrid sound.'
'Ain't it?' rejoined Chippy. 'Wot between wakin' up sudden, and hearin' 'im 'oot, an' th' ole jackass a-cavortin' round, I was wellnigh frit out o' my senses.'
Dick laughed and poked the fire with a stick. The logs flared up, and the pleasant blaze was warm and comforting. He looked at his watch.
'It's just half-past two,' he said. 'Fancy, Chippy, half-past two in the morning, and we're sitting by a camp fire.'
'It's great,' said Chippy; then he gave a tremendous yawn.