Some feathered creature chirped complainingly at the rude intrusion of its domain by these strangers.

And, almost under their very feet, a tiny snake wriggled across the trail and was gone.

The shadows were gathering now, and the fragrance of evening was beginning to permeate the dim woods.

And all the respectable home-loving birds were seeking their nests.
And so these two strolled on, and for a few minutes neither spoke.
"Well then, suppose I give you a tip," Tom said.

"Will you promise that you'll make good?
You claim to be a scout.