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I Leopard in the night
Hal woke with a start. He found himself sitting up in bed, his spine tingling. What had roused him? A cry of some sort.
The play of light and shadow in the tent told him that the camp-fire outside was still burning. It was meant to keep off dangerous visitors. Wild animals were all about -yet the sound he had heard did not seem the voice of an animal.
Still, he could be mistaken. This was his first night in the African wilds. Beside the camp-fire earlier in the evening he and his younger brother, Roger, had listened to the voices of the forest while their Father, John Hunt, told them what they were hearing.
'It's like an orchestra,' Hunt had said. 'Those high violins you hear are being played by the jackals. That crazy trombone - the hyena is playing it. The hippo is on the bass tuba. Doesn't that wart-hog's "arnk-arnk-amk" sound just like a snare drum? And listen - far away you can just hear it, a lion on the 'cello.'
'Who's that with the saxophone?' asked Roger.
'The elephant. He's good on the trumpet too.'
A sharp grinding roar made the boys jump. Whatever made it was very close to the camp. It sounded like a rough file being dragged over the edge of a tin roof.
Roger tried to cover his fright with a joke.