Paul's post was behind a fallen tree, and the watchers in the hut could
see him, while he was completely hidden from any animal that might enter
the open clearing from the far end. He turned and looked hard at the
hut; but the larch branch across the window effectually prevented him
from discovering whether any one was behind it or not.
Thus they all waited in suspense. A blackcock skimmed across the open
space and disappeared unmolested. A wolf--gray, gaunt, sneaking, and
lurching in his gait--trotted into the clearing and stood listening with
evil lips drawn back. The two girls watched him breathlessly. When he
trotted on unmolested, they drew a deep breath as if they had been under
water. Paul, with his two rifles laid before him, watched the wolf
depart with a smile. The girls could see the smile, and from it learnt
somewhat of the man. The keeper beside them gave a little laugh and
looked to the hammers of his rifle.
And still there was no sound. It was still, unreal, and like a scene on
the stage. The birds, skimming over the tops of the trees from time to
time, threw in as it were a note of fear and suspense. There was
breathlessness in the air. A couple of hares, like white shadows in
their spotless winter coats, shot from covert to covert across the open
ground.
Then suddenly the keeper gave a little grunt and held up his hand,
listening with parted lips and eager eyes.
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