more disturbance in the immediate vicinity of the pool than we can help, and we can easily carry what we need from here. But let's look around a bit first."
Together, carrying their loaded guns in the manner of men who wish to be prepared against any sudden emergency, they made their way through a fringe of trees to the edge of the black, still water, which gave the pool its name. Even by daylight the place was far from cheerful. The pool, about seventy. feet in diameter, was entirely surrounded by trees which grew to within a few feet of its oily, surface.
There was no sign of life about the place, not even a frog croaked, and the muddy banks bore mute testimony that none of the many cattle which roamed that region had been there to drink for many days. In one place only was the mud broken by fresh tracks; and when his eyes fell on this spot, the sheriff smiled grimly.
"You see them, Horace," he said, pointing. "The thing has been here recently—its trail is as plain as day; this must be its drinking place. Now for our little trap."
Returning to the car, the two men first carried the keg to the foot of a large tree which stood only a few yards from where the "plague" had approached the pool; then they got the boards and the other articles, which, on being unwrapped, proved to be a brass hand pump, with a long spray nozzle, and about a dozen feet of hose.
Doctor Morse regarded this contrivance with considerable perplexity. He could not see of what use it could be in the task that lay ahead of them; but when he expressed his puzzlement, his companion laughed softly.
"It's really very simple," he explained, "although it is merely an experiment of my own, and may not work as I hope it will. The keg is full of whitewash, and this pump will throw a steady stream for over thirty feet. If we can get the brute within range, my idea is to spray him with whitewash until we can see enough of him to shoot at. White always shows up fairly well in the dark. Catch the idea?"
Doctor Morse gazed at his friend in surprised admiration for an instant; then he impulsively caught his hand in a hard grip.
"You're a wonder, Bert!" he exclaimed. "I don't see how you ever thought of it, but the scheme looks good to me. I am honestly beginning to think we have a chance. But what are those boards for?"
"For a platform on the tree yonder," replied the sheriff, nodding toward a cotton wood. "For obvious reasons I thought it would be safer to do our watching from above ground, and with these boards we can construct a support that will enable us to stay in the tree with some degree of safety. Of course, the thing may he able to climb, for all we know, but we must chance that. The tree is within easy range of the water, and those tall ferns and weeds, if we watch them closely, should give us warning of the beast's approach. Now let's get busy, for it will be dark before we know it."
At the end of half an hour, just as it was actually growing dark within the shadows of the trees, the two men had built a substantial platform in a fork of the cottonwood, some ten feet from the ground, and established themselves upon it. Sheriff Parker's gun lay beside him, while he grasped the nozzle of the high-pressure pump in his hands; but the coroner's weapon was ready for instant use.
Swiftly the day turned into night, and for an hour it was as dark as pitch at the edge of the pool; then the moon, surrounded by myriads of stars, slowly climbed up over the hill-tops beyond the water. With eyes riveted upon the ferns, from the movements of which they expected to be warned of the beast's approach, the two men waited tensely.
For a long time nothing happened. From the blank darkness around them came merely the familiar noises of night in the wilderness—the long, wailing howl of a distant coyote; the chirping drone of the tireless insects in the trees; strange cries of night birds, so different from those of the birds of the day; the "plop" of muskrats diving in the still water, and all the mysterious chorus of small sounds that one never notices until after night has fallen.
Seated on their narrow platform, the watchers were soon very uncomfortable, for the mosquitoes were numerous and hungry, and the men dared not smoke for fear the smell of tobacco would give warning to the thing they sought. Doctor Morse, eyes fixed on the top of a ridge which could be seen through a break in the trees, and beyond which the stars and the moon seemed to be grouped, was half dozing, when suddenly he straightened up with a little start.
A curious thing had taken place! The stars, rising above the crest of the ridge, had successively disappeared from right to left!
Bach was blotted out for but an instant, and not more than two or three at the same time, but along half the length of the ridge, all that were within a few degrees of the crest were eclipsed. Something had passed along between them and the coroner's line of vision; but he could not see it, and the stars were not close enough together to define its shape. After a second of tense watching, Doctor Morse reached out and gripped the sheriff by the arm.
"Did you see it?" he whispered. "It's coming, I think."
"Yes; but be quiet, for your life!" Sheriff Parker leaned forward and shifted his grip on the hose nozzle.
For several minutes all was silent, then came a faint patter of stealthy feet, and something like the sniffing of a hound sounded below them, while the ferns waved violently, although there was no breeze. Almost immediately came the sounds of lapping in the water—sounds exactly like those made by a thirsty dog when drinking.
Taking careful aim with the nozzle, Sheriff Parker suddenly pumped out a steady stream of whitewash which began to splash and spatter on the edge of the pool and surface of the water. And, us the milky liquid began to fall, the two watchers saw a strange and wonderful thing. In a spot, which ten seconds before had been merely opaque darkness, an outline grew up and took shape out of the ground; a strange, monstrous, misshapen thing, squat and hairy, not unlike a huge wolf in general appearance, but broader and more powerful than any wolf either man had ever seen.
For an instant after the whitewash began to fall upon it, the thing turned a big-jawed, hairy face in the direction of the tree; then, with a horrible snarl of fury, which both men plainly heard, it charged toward them.
"Shoot! Shoot, Horace!" Sheriff Parker yelled, dropping the useless nozzle and grabbing his gun.
The two heavy guns, charged with double loads of buckshot, roared out almost together. There was a coughing snarl from the thing on the ground, which save for a white patch or two, was almost invisible again, and the sound of convulsive struggling; then the sheriff fired a second time. Almost immediately there was a heavy splash in the water; then absolute silence.
Doctor Morse wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with a shaking hand.
"Did we get it?" he asked in a low tone.
"Yes, I'm almost sure of it." Sheriff Parker, though tremendously excited, began to lower himself to the ground. "No animal of the wolf type could stand up against three charges of buckshot at less than a dozen yards," he declared. "I believe it is dead, Horace."
(Continued on page 116)
