''Tworn't a trout at all,' wailed the Raven; ''twor a big rat, an' he bit me.'
The scouts roared with laughter as Chippy flipped the blood into the water.
'He'd got you that time,' chuckled Dick.
'Sure enough,' nodded the Raven. 'I thought it wor' a pounder at the least. He's nigh on bit my finger through.'
Dick had his patrol staff in hand: he thrust it up the hole and tried to poke the rat out. But the hole twisted among the roots, and was a safe fortress for its wily defender.
'Well, I've done all the gropin' I want, this time,' remarked Chippy, washing his finger in the stream.
'Yes, we must be off again,' said Dick, and began slowly to wade towards the bank where their shoes and stockings lay.
Suddenly he started and picked up one foot.
'Ah!' cried Dick, 'that was sharp, and no mistake.'
'Wot's the matter?' called out Chippy, approaching him.