“They’ll miss us,” said Scoop, “if we get killed.”
My thoughts took a crazy jump.
“Why not aim for a tickly spot in his ribs,” I snickered, pointing to the dinosaur, “and let him giggle himself to death?”
“Sh-h-h-h!” cautioned Scoop, putting out a hand. “He’s listening. The wind is blowing that way. He smells us.”
“What of it?” I grinned. “We don’t smell bad.”
“Keep still,” scowled Scoop, “while I aim.”
Bing! went the bow cord. My eyes followed the arrow. It struck. The old dinosaur angrily tooted his horn. But he didn’t drop dead. For his hide was sixteen inches thick.
We were lost! Scoop said so. And without arguing the matter I went lickety-cut for a tree.
“Come on!” I yipped over my shoulder. “He’s after us.”
Up the tree I went monkey-fashion. And when I straddled a limb and squinted down, there [[3]]was the old dinosaur chewing my footprints off the tree trunk.