I see you've got it all
down pat. Well, good-bye again. I'm off. Oh, don't bother
to growl, please. I'm sick of that line of stuff."
"Good-bye," I said.
He slid through the bushes and disappeared. I sat where
I was, musing, my work interrupted, a mood of bitter
disillusionment heavy upon me. So I sat, it may have been
for hours.
In the far distance I could hear the faint cry of a
bittern in some lonely marsh.
"Now, who the deuce is making that noise?" I muttered.
"Some silly fool, I suppose, trying to think he's a
waterfowl. Cut it out!"
Long I lay, my dream of the woods shattered, wondering
what to do.
Then suddenly there came to my ear the loud sound of
voices, human voices, strident and eager, with nothing
of the animal growl in them.
"He's in there. I seen him!" I heard some one call.
Rapidly I dived sideways into the underbrush, my animal
instinct strong upon me again, growling as I went.
Instinctively I knew that it was I that they were after.
All the animal joy of being hunted came over me. My union
suit stood up on end with mingled fear and rage.
As fast as I could I retreated into the wood. Yet somehow,
as I moved, the wood, instead of growing denser, seemed
to thin out.
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