‘What about the other one, the one in the clearing?’
‘He’s gone too.’
‘You can’t be sure of that.’
‘I’ve been studying these bastards for months, Gordon, honest I have. I know all their habits. There’s no danger.’
Reluctantly I followed him back into the wood. It was pitch dark in there now and very silent, and as we moved cautiously forward the noise of our footsteps seemed to go echoing around the walls of the forest as though we were walking in a cathedral.
‘Here’s where we threw the raisins,’ Claud said.
I peered through the bushes.
The clearing lay dim and milky in the moonlight.
‘You’re quite sure the keeper’s gone?’
‘I know he’s gone.’
I could just see Claud’s face under the peak of his cap, the pale lips, the soft pale cheeks, and the large eyes with a little spark of excitement dancing slowly in each.
‘Are they roosting?’
‘Yes.’
‘Whereabouts?’
‘All around. They don’t go far.’
‘What do we do next?’
‘We stay here and wait. I brought you a light,’ he added, and he handed me one of those small pocket flashlights shaped like a fountain-pen. ‘You may need it.’
I was beginning to feel better. ‘Shall we see if we can spot some of them sitting in the trees?’ I said.
‘No.’
‘I should like to see how they look when they’re roosting.’
‘This isn’t a nature-study,’ Claud said. ‘Please be quiet.’
We stood there for a long time waiting for something to happen.
‘I’ve just had a nasty thought,’ I said. ‘If a bird can keep its balance on a branch when it’s asleep, then surely there isn’t any reason why the pills should make it fall down.’
Claud looked at me quick.
‘After all,’ I said, ‘it’s not dead. It’s still only sleeping.’
‘It’s doped,’ Claud said.
‘But that’s just a deeper sort of sleep. Why should we expect it to fall down just because it’s in a deeper sleep?’
There was a gloomy silence.
‘We should’ve tried it with chickens,’ Claud said. ‘My dad would’ve done that.’
‘Your dad was a genius,’ I said.