I wished myself at home.

The tales I had heard of the voracity and fierceness of the striped catamount were made much more terrible by the darkness.

My position was so cramped and the old sleigh so hard that I had to squirm occasionally; but every time I did so, Tom whispered: "Sh! Don't rattle round.

He may hear us." An hour or two, which seemed ages long, dragged by; the crescent moon sank behind the tree-tops and die night darkened.

At last, in spite of myself, I grew drowsy, but every few moments I started broad awake and clutched the handle of the axe.