CHAPTER XLI
THE POACHERS
As Dick moved along the edge of the wood, the smell of tobacco grew stronger, and below a small ash he stopped with a jump of his heart. There was a scratch and spurtle of a match at his very feet, as it seemed.
Beyond the ash lay a big clump of brambles, and Dick peered over them. He discovered that the growth of brambles masked a deep hollow, and in the hollow lay three men, one of whom was smoking, and had just relighted his pipe. Dick checked himself just as he was about to give a low whistle of surprise and wonder. The men were blacks. The moon shone full into the hollow and showed ebony faces, in which white teeth glittered, as they spoke to each other in whispers. Then the smoker raised his hand to press down the tobacco in his pipe, and here again was a fresh surprise, for the hand was the hand of a white man.
Now Dick understood. These men had met for some evil purpose, and had blacked their faces as a disguise.
'Something wrong,' said Dick to himself. 'Those fellows are out for no honest purpose. Scout's job here.'
As the thought passed through the Wolf's mind, one of the men sat up and growled an oath. 'Wheer are they got to?' he said. 'Here, 'tis nigh on ha'-past one, an' Young Bill and Smiley ain't turned up yet.'
'We'll start wi'out 'em if they don't show up soon,' grunted a second speaker.
'As far as old Smiley goes we can do wi'out him all right,' returned the first man, 'but we must ha' Young Bill. He's got the stren'th o' half a dozen to pull.'