Some animal had scratched upthe ground at the head of the tent, and with a great blow of a powerfulpaw--a paw clearly provided with good claws--had struck the silk andtorn it open. There was a hole large enough to pass a fist and armthrough.
"It can't be far away," Maloney said excitedly. "We'll organise a huntat once; this very minute."
We hurried back to the fire, Maloney talking boisterously about hisproposed hunt. "There's nothing like prompt action to dispel alarm," hewhispered in my ear; and then turned to the rest of us.
"We'll hunt the island from end to end at once," he said, withexcitement; "that's what we'll do. The beast can't be far away. And theBo'sun's Mate and Joan must come too, because they can't be left alone.Hubbard, you take the right shore, and you, Sangree, the left, and I'llgo in the middle with the women. In this way we can stretch clean acrossthe ridge, and nothing bigger than a rabbit can possibly escape us." Hewas extraordinarily excited, I thought. Anything affecting Joan, ofcourse, stirred him prodigiously. "Get your guns and we'll start thedrive at once," he cried. He lit another lantern and handed one each tohis wife and Joan, and while I ran to fetch my gun I heard him singingto himself with the excitement of it all.
Meanwhile the dawn had come on quickly. It made the flickering lanternslook pale. The wind, too, was rising, and I heard the trees moaningoverhead and the waves breaking with increasing clamour on the shore. Inthe lagoon the boat dipped and splashed, and the sparks from the firewere carried aloft in a stream and scattered far and wide.
We made our way to the extreme end of the island, measured our distancescarefully, and then began to advance. None of us spoke. Sangree and I,with cocked guns, watched the shore lines, and all within easy touch andspeaking distance. It was a slow and blundering drive, and there weremany false alarms, but after the best part of half an hour we stood onthe farther end, having made the complete tour, and without putting upso much as a squirrel. Certainly there was no living creature on thatisland but ourselves.
"I know what it is!" cried Maloney, looking out over the dim expanse ofgrey sea, and speaking with the air of a man making a discovery; "it's adog from one of the farms on the larger islands"--he pointed seawardswhere the archipelago thickened--"and it's escaped and turned wild. Ourfires and voices attracted it, and it's probably half starved as well assavage, poor brute!"
No one said anything in reply, and he began to sing again very low tohimself.
The point where we stood--a huddled, shivering group--faced the widerchannels that led to the open sea and Finland. The grey dawn had brokenin earnest at last, and we could see the racing waves with their angrycrests of white. The surrounding islands showed up as dark masses in thedistance, and in the east, almost as Maloney spoke, the sun came up witha rush in a stormy and magnificent sky of red and gold. Against thissplashed and gorgeous background black clouds, shaped like fantastic andlegendary animals, filed past swiftly in a tearing stream, and to thisday I have only to close my eyes to see again that vivid and hurryingprocession in the air. All about us the pines made black splashesagainst the sky. It was an angry sunrise. Rain, indeed, had alreadybegun to fall in big drops.
We turned, as by a common instinct, and, without speech, made our wayback slowly to the stockade, Maloney humming snatches of his songs,Sangree in front with his gun, prepared to shoot at a moment's notice,and the women floundering in the rear with myself and the extinguishedlanterns.
Yet it was only a dog!
Really, it was most singular when one came to reflect soberly upon itall. Events, say the occultists, have souls, or at least thatagglomerate life due to the emotions and thoughts of all concerned inthem, so that cities, and even whole countries, have great astral shapeswhich may become visible to the eye of vision; and certainly here, thesoul of this drive--this vain, blundering, futile drive--stood somewherebetween ourselves and--laughed.
All of us heard that laugh, and all of us tried hard to smother thesound, or at least to ignore it. Every one talked at once, loudly, andwith exaggerated decision, obviously trying to say something plausibleagainst heavy odds, striving to explain naturally that an animal mightso easily conceal itself from us, or swim away before we had time tolight upon its trail. For we all spoke of that "trail" as though itreally existed, and we had more to go upon than the mere marks of pawsabout the tents of Joan and the Canadian. Indeed, but for these, and thetorn tent, I think it would, of course, have been possible to ignore theexistence of this beast intruder altogether.
And it was here, under this angry dawn, as we stood in the shelter ofthe stockade from the pouring rain, weary yet so strangely excited--itwas here, out of this confusion of voices and explanations, that--verystealthily--the ghost of something horrible slipped in and stood amongus. It made all our explanations seem childish and untrue; the falserelation was instantly exposed. Eyes exchanged quick, anxious glances,questioning, expressive of dismay. There was a sense of wonder, ofpoignant distress, and of trepidation. Alarm stood waiting at ourelbows. We shivered.
Then, suddenly, as we looked into each other's faces, came the long,unwelcome pause in which this new arrival established itself in ourhearts.
And, without further speech, or attempt at explanation, Maloney movedoff abruptly to mix the porridge for an early breakfast; Sangree toclean the fish; myself to chop wood and tend the fire; Joan and hermother to change their wet garments; and, most significant of all, toprepare her mother's tent for its future complement of two.
Each went to his duty, but hurriedly, awkwardly, silently; and this newarrival, this shape of terror and distress stalked, viewless, by theside of each.
"If only I could have traced that dog," I think was the thought in theminds of all.
But in Camp, where every one realises how important the individualcontribution is to the comfort and well-being of all, the mind speedilyrecovers tone and pulls itself together.
During the day, a day of heavy and ceaseless rain, we kept more or lessto our tents, and though there were signs of mysterious conferencesbetween the three members of the Maloney family, I think that most of usslept a good deal and stayed alone with his thoughts. Certainly, I did,because when Maloney came to say that his wife invited us all to aspecial "tea" in her tent, he had to shake me awake before I realisedthat he was there at all.
And by supper-time we were more or less even-minded again, and almostjolly. I only noticed that there was an undercurrent of what is bestdescribed as "jumpiness," and that the merest snapping of a twig, orplop of a fish in the lagoon, was sufficient to make us start and lookover our shoulders. Pauses were rare in our talk, and the fire was neverfor one instant allowed to get low. The wind and rain had ceased, butthe dripping of the branches still kept up an excellent imitation of adownpour. In particular, Maloney was vigilant and alert, telling us aseries of tales in which the wholesome humorous element was especiallystrong. He lingered, too, behind with me after Sangree had gone to bed,and while I mixed myself a glass of hot Swedish punch, he did a thing Ihad never known him do before--he mixed one for himself, and then askedme to light him over to his tent. We said nothing on the way, but I feltthat he was glad of my companionship.
I returned alone to the stockade, and for a long time after that keptthe fire blazing, and sat up smoking and thinking. I hardly knew why;but sleep was far from me for one thing, and for another, an idea wastaking form in my mind that required the comfort of tobacco and abright fire for its growth. I lay against a corner of the stockadeseat, listening to the wind whispering and to the ceaseless drip-drip ofthe trees. The night, otherwise, was very still, and the sea quiet as alake. I remember that I was conscious, peculiarly conscious, of thishost of desolate islands crowding about us in the darkness, and that wewere the one little spot of humanity in a rather wonderful kind ofwilderness.
But this, I think, was the only symptom that came to warn me of highlystrung nerves, and it certainly was not sufficiently alarming to destroymy peace of mind. One thing, however, did come to disturb my peace, forjust as I finally made ready
to go, and had kicked the embers of thefire into a last effort, I fancied I saw, peering at me round thefarther end of the stockade wall, a dark and shadowy mass that mighthave been--that strongly resembled, in fact--the body of a large animal.Two glowing eyes shone for an instant in the middle of it. But the nextsecond I saw that it was merely a projecting mass of moss and lichen inthe wall of our stockade, and the eyes were a couple of wandering sparksfrom the dying ashes I had kicked. It was easy enough, too, to imagine Isaw an animal moving here and there between the trees, as I picked myway stealthily to my tent. Of course, the shadows tricked me.
And though it was after one o'clock, Maloney's light was still burning,for I saw his tent shining white among the pines.
It was, however, in the short space between consciousness andsleep--that time when the body