Part 89 (2/2)

”If the thing jumps over the fence,” he said. He had but one shot, he could not load quickly: Mark understood.

”No--no, don't shoot. Here--here's the bow.”

Bevis took it and sent an arrow at the fence in the corner with such force that it penetrated the willow-work up to the feather. Then they both ran to the gate and looked over. All this scarcely occupied a minute.

But there was nothing to see. The thick white mist concealed everything but the edge of the brambles near the stockade, and the tops of the trees farther away.

”Nothing,” said Mark. ”What was it?”

”Shall we go out?” said Bevis.

”No--not till we have seen it.”

”It would be better not--we can't tell.”

”You can shoot as it jumps the fence,” said Mark, ”if it comes: it will stop a minute on the top.”

Unless they can clear a fence, animals pause a moment on the top before they leap down. They went back to the open shed with a feeling that it would be best to be some way inside the fence, and so have a view of the creature before it sprang. Mark picked up an axe, for he had no weapon but a second arrow which he had in his hand: the axe was the most effective weapon there was after the gun. They stood under the shed, watching the top of the stockade and waiting.

Till now they had looked upon the unknown as a stealthy thief only, but when Pan recoiled they knew it must be something more.

”It might jump down from the cliff,” said Bevis.

While they watched the semi-circular fence in front the creature might steal round to the cliff and leap down on the roof of the hut. Mark stepped out and looked along the verge of the sand cliff. He could see up through the runners of the brambles which hung over the edge, and there was nothing there. Looking up like this he could see the pale stars above the mist. It was not a deep mist--it was like a layer on the ground, impenetrable to the eye longitudinally, but partially transparent vertically. Returning inside, Mark stooped and examined Pan, who had crept at their heels. There were no scratches on him.

”He's not hurt,” said Mark. ”No teeth or claws.”

”But he had a pat, didn't he?”

”I thought so--how he yelled! But you look, there's no blood. Perhaps the thing hit him without putting its claws out.”

”They slip out when they strike,” said Bevis, meaning that as wild beasts strike their claws involuntarily extend from the sheaths. He looked, Pan was not hurt; Mark felt his ribs too, and said that none were broken. There were no fragments of fur or hair about his mouth, no remnants of a struggle.

”I don't believe he fought at all,” said Bevis. ”He stopped--he never went near.”

”Very likely: now I remember--he stopped barking all at once; he was afraid!”

”That was it: but he yelled--”

”It must have been fright,” said Mark. ”Nothing touched him: Pan, what was it?”

Pan wagged his tail once, once only: he still crouched and kept close to them. Though patted and rea.s.sured, his spirit had been too much broken to recover rapidly. The spaniel was thoroughly cowed.

”It came very near,” said Bevis. ”It hit the fence while he was getting through.”

”It must have missed him--perhaps it was a long jump. Did you hear anything rush off.”

”No.”

”No more did I.”

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