United States or Iceland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Oh! if you ask them, they say it's a freak of an animal that they hunt up and down in the woods, trying to get its scalp, or or catch it alive. Which they seldom or never do!" Jessie's eyes sparkled. "Stud says a whole 'henkyl' is hard to capture; it's so sure to shed its horns or its teeth just as you pounce upon it."
Pem was staring intently at the speaker, her black brows drawn together over eyes as speculatively blue as ever they had been in Toandoah's laboratory when grasping, or trying to, grave problems of the air. "Oh! I know. I know!" she cried suddenly, the blue breaking up in the firelight into a harlequin patchwork of merry gleams. "A henkyl! Why-y! it's a joke.
"See! See! That stands for I: two dots! I, three times repeated, gives the call," breathed the Guardian at Pem's elbow, her mature face a gold-set miniature of excitement, too. "Oh oh! I wonder if they'll 'get us', those boys those joking Henkyl Hunters?" The throbbing question was on every girlish lip. Eyes burned, like the torch, across the valley.
The scout's reply was bristling. To a fifteen-year-old patrol leader, a Henkyl Hunter, who went up and down upon the trail of a joke, there was a smack of condescension about that "Buddy", used twice by those big boys; perhaps he, too, at that moment, laid up something against the youth of the flaming tone and rig. "Humph! hasn't he the nerve, butting in?" he muttered.
"Tr-rust to your own 'bean' your own head an' what's inside it! Well! I'll admit it's fiery enough," flouted the Henkyl Hunter, piqued even in the presence of girls into giving back tit for tat. "But you're carrying too many eggs in one basket, let me tell you, and you're likely enough to take a leap in the dark an' smash 'em all." "Ha!
"I'd rather explore the cave I love creepy caves and we haven't been half through it yet," said Pemrose Lorry. Forthwith Stud, the Henkyl Hunter, decided that cave-exploiting was the pastime for him; there was rarely a younger boy Studart was barely fifteen who did not become the captive knight of this older girl with the sky in her eyes under jet-black lashes!
"They have a society of older boys in their camp called the Henkyl Hunters' Brigade. My brother Stud he's a patrol leader belongs to it. And they go on the war-path occasionally and publish a bulletin about their doings." "What's a henkyl?" Una's mouth was wide open; upon its gusty breath rode horned toads and plated lizards, in imaginary solution. "A henkyl!
I do an' I don't!" stammered the boyish Henkyl Hunter. "I we " indicating his scout brothers "have met him a couple of times in the woods; I guess his father an' he have a camp on the opposite side of the lake from ours. We've talked with him tried to be friendly. And he he's always jolly, you know like now!
Oh! I'm glad the boys played the trick if it was the boys. I'd rather think he played Santa himself." There was no inkling in Jessie's mind, as, so murmuring and softly barefoot, she stole up to the visitor, now motionless as a painted bird, of a much worse trick that those freakish Henkyl Hunters might play, a girl abetting them, too shocking fact before night fell again upon the pearly Bowl.
Look look at the black on its feathers, the wood-smuts clinging to it! Down the big chimney of the living room!" "Like Santa Claus down the chimney! Mercy! d'you suppose it played Santa itself? or did the boys push it down?" "The boys! Those miserable Henkyl Hunters always on the trail of a joke! If they did, they'll never own up! Never!"
Word Of The Day