"WHAT'S THAT NOISE?"
I was almost asleep when Ollie shook me, and whispered, "What's that noise?"
I listened, and heard a regular, hollow, booming sound, something like the very distant discharge of cannon.
"It's the horses walking on the ground—always sounds that way in the night," I answered.
Again I was almost asleep when Ollie took hold of my arm, and said, "What's that?"
I once more listened, and recognized a peculiar creaking noise as that made by the horses cropping off the grass. I explained to Ollie, and then dropped off sound asleep. I don't know how long it was, but after some time I was again roused up by a nervous shake.
"Listen to that," whispered Ollie. "What can it be?"
I sat up cautiously and listened. It was a strange, rattling, unearthly sound which I could not account for any better than Ollie.
"It's a bear," he whispered. "I heard them make that noise at the park back home."
I was puzzled, and concluded that it must be some wild animal. I took down one of the guns, crept softly to the front end of the wagon, raised the flap, and looked out. The wind was still, and the night air met my face with a cool, damp feeling. The moon had just risen and the lake was like silver. I could see the horses lying asleep like dark mounds. But the mysterious noise kept up, and even grew louder. I grasped the gun firmly, and let myself cautiously out of the front end of the wagon. Then I climbed back in less softly and hung up the gun.