Bob Son of Battle [90]
lolled down again, and the strong man was whimpering.
"He! he! he! 'Scuse ma laffin', Mr. Moore--he! he! he!"
A little man, all wet and shrunk, sat hunching on a mound above them, rocking his shrivelled form to and fro in the agony of his merriment.
"Ye raskil--he! he! Ye rogue--he! he!' and he shook his fist waggishly at the unconscious gray dog. "I owe ye anither grudge for this--ye've anteecipated me "--and he leant. back and shook this way and that in convulsive mirth.
The man below him rose heavily to his feet. and tumbled toward the mocker, his great figure swaying from side to side as though in blind delirium, moaning still as he went. And. there was that on his face which no man can mistake. Boy that he was, Andrew knew it..
"Feyther! feyther! do'ee not!" he pleaded, running after his father and laying impotent. hands on him.
But the strong man shook him off like a fly, and rolled on, swaying and groaning, with that awful expression plain to see in the moonlight.
In front the little man squatted in the rain, bowed double still; and took no thought to flee.
"Come on, James Moore! Come on!" he laughed, malignant joy in his voice; and. something gleamed bright in his right hand, and was hid again. "I've bin waitin' this a weary while noo. Come on!"
Then had there been done something worse than sheep-murder in the dreadful lonesomeness of the Devil's Bowl upon that night; but of a sudden, there sounded the splash of a man's foot, falling heavily behind; a hand like a falling tree smote the Master on the shoulder;~ and a voice roared above the noise of the storm:
"Mr. Moore! Look, man! look!"
The Master tried to shake off that detaining grasp; but it pinned him where he was, immovable.
"Look, I tell yo'!" cried that great voice again.
A hand pushed past him and pointed; and. sullenly he turned, ignoring the figure at his. side, and looked.
The wind had dropped suddenly as it had risen; the little man on the mound had ceased to chuckle; Andrew's sobs were hushed; and in the background the huddled flock edged closer. The world hung balanced on the pinpoint of the moment. Every eye was in the one direction,
With dull, uncomprehending gaze James Moore stared as bidden. There was the gray dog naked in the moonlight, heedless still of any witnesses; there the murdered sheep, lying within and without that distorted shade; and there the humpbacked boulder.
He stared into the shadow, and still stared.
Then he started as though struck. The shadow of the boulder h~d moved!
Motionless, with head shot forward and bulging eyes, he gazed.
Ay, ay, ay; he was sure of it--a huge dim outline as of a lion couchant, in the very thickest of the blackness.
At that he was seized with such a palsy of trembling that he must have fallen but for the strong arm about his waist.
Clearer every moment grew that crouching figure; till at length they plainly could discern the line of arching loins, the crest, thick as a ~stallion's, the massive, wagging head. No mistake this time. There he lay i the deep..est black, gigantic, revelling in hi horrid debauch--the Black Killer!
And they watched him at his feast. Now he burrowed into the spongy flesh; now turned to lap the dark pool which glittered in the moonlight at his side like claret in a silver cup. Now lifting his head, he snapped irritably at the rain-drops, and the moon caught his wicked, rolling eye and the red shreds of flesh dripping from his jaw. And again, raising his great muzzle as if about to howl, he let the delicious nectar trickle down his throat and ravish his palate.
So he went on, all unsuspicious, wisely nodding in slow-mouthed gluttony. And in the stillness, between the claps of wind, they could hear the smacking of his lips.
While all the time the gray dog stood before him, motionless, as though carved in stone.
At last, as the murderer rolled his great. head from side to side, he saw that still figure. At the sight he leaped back, dismayed. Then with a deep-mouthed roar that shook the waters of the Tarn
"He! he! he! 'Scuse ma laffin', Mr. Moore--he! he! he!"
A little man, all wet and shrunk, sat hunching on a mound above them, rocking his shrivelled form to and fro in the agony of his merriment.
"Ye raskil--he! he! Ye rogue--he! he!' and he shook his fist waggishly at the unconscious gray dog. "I owe ye anither grudge for this--ye've anteecipated me "--and he leant. back and shook this way and that in convulsive mirth.
The man below him rose heavily to his feet. and tumbled toward the mocker, his great figure swaying from side to side as though in blind delirium, moaning still as he went. And. there was that on his face which no man can mistake. Boy that he was, Andrew knew it..
"Feyther! feyther! do'ee not!" he pleaded, running after his father and laying impotent. hands on him.
But the strong man shook him off like a fly, and rolled on, swaying and groaning, with that awful expression plain to see in the moonlight.
In front the little man squatted in the rain, bowed double still; and took no thought to flee.
"Come on, James Moore! Come on!" he laughed, malignant joy in his voice; and. something gleamed bright in his right hand, and was hid again. "I've bin waitin' this a weary while noo. Come on!"
Then had there been done something worse than sheep-murder in the dreadful lonesomeness of the Devil's Bowl upon that night; but of a sudden, there sounded the splash of a man's foot, falling heavily behind; a hand like a falling tree smote the Master on the shoulder;~ and a voice roared above the noise of the storm:
"Mr. Moore! Look, man! look!"
The Master tried to shake off that detaining grasp; but it pinned him where he was, immovable.
"Look, I tell yo'!" cried that great voice again.
A hand pushed past him and pointed; and. sullenly he turned, ignoring the figure at his. side, and looked.
The wind had dropped suddenly as it had risen; the little man on the mound had ceased to chuckle; Andrew's sobs were hushed; and in the background the huddled flock edged closer. The world hung balanced on the pinpoint of the moment. Every eye was in the one direction,
With dull, uncomprehending gaze James Moore stared as bidden. There was the gray dog naked in the moonlight, heedless still of any witnesses; there the murdered sheep, lying within and without that distorted shade; and there the humpbacked boulder.
He stared into the shadow, and still stared.
Then he started as though struck. The shadow of the boulder h~d moved!
Motionless, with head shot forward and bulging eyes, he gazed.
Ay, ay, ay; he was sure of it--a huge dim outline as of a lion couchant, in the very thickest of the blackness.
At that he was seized with such a palsy of trembling that he must have fallen but for the strong arm about his waist.
Clearer every moment grew that crouching figure; till at length they plainly could discern the line of arching loins, the crest, thick as a ~stallion's, the massive, wagging head. No mistake this time. There he lay i the deep..est black, gigantic, revelling in hi horrid debauch--the Black Killer!
And they watched him at his feast. Now he burrowed into the spongy flesh; now turned to lap the dark pool which glittered in the moonlight at his side like claret in a silver cup. Now lifting his head, he snapped irritably at the rain-drops, and the moon caught his wicked, rolling eye and the red shreds of flesh dripping from his jaw. And again, raising his great muzzle as if about to howl, he let the delicious nectar trickle down his throat and ravish his palate.
So he went on, all unsuspicious, wisely nodding in slow-mouthed gluttony. And in the stillness, between the claps of wind, they could hear the smacking of his lips.
While all the time the gray dog stood before him, motionless, as though carved in stone.
At last, as the murderer rolled his great. head from side to side, he saw that still figure. At the sight he leaped back, dismayed. Then with a deep-mouthed roar that shook the waters of the Tarn