“My idea exactly.”
For the first time since they had been there the day passed slowly to the boys anxious as they were for the night to come. They had decided not to tell the Sleepers what they had seen deeming it best to keep it to themselves for the present at least.
That night was very dark as there was no moon and the stars were obscured by thick clouds so they were unable to see more than three or four feet ahead of themselves as they stole softly out of the cabin shortly after eleven o’clock. The window at the foot of Bob’s bed faced the north and it was in that direction they turned their steps. The forest began not more than forty feet from the cabin so they had but a short distance to go.
“He or they must have been about here,” Bob whispered as they paused beneath a large spruce.
“Couldn’t have been much further back,” Jack agreed.
“Then suppose you take this tree and I’ll get one a bit over this way.”
“Righto.”
Jack quickly swung himself into the lower branches of the tree while Bob moved off to the right. About ten feet above the ground he found a convenient crotch and proceeded to make himself as comfortable as circumstances would permit. How still it was. No breeze stirred the branches and save for an occasional croak of a frog no sound broke the silence. An hour passed and Jack was finding it difficult to keep awake. He wondered how Bob was making out in his perch a few yards away, and if he was as sleepy as he was.
He had just glanced at his watch and noted that it was a quarter past twelve when a shrill cry rang through the forest. It was a cry of fear or pain, he was not sure which and, for a moment he waited uncertain what to do. Then he heard Bob’s voice from beneath the branch.
“What was that cry?”