McGraw©Hill/Focus/Weep No More My Lady p. 36////R7N4/ ***** The moonlight symphony of swamp creatures hushed abruptly,

and the dismal fog was as peaceful as unborn time and seemed to

brood in its silence. The gaunt man glanced back at the boy and

motioned for him to be quiet, but it was too late. Their

presence was discovered. A jumbo frog rumbled a warning, and the

swamp squirmed into life as its denizens scuttled to safety. Fox fire was glowing to the west and the bayou was slapping

the cypress knees when suddenly a haunting laugh echoed through

the wilderness, a strange chuckling yodel ending in a weird

"gro©o©o." The boy's eyes were wide and staring. "That's it, Uncle

Jess. Come on! Let's catch it!" "Uh, oh." The man gripped his shotgun. "That ain't no

animal. That's a thing." They hurried noiselessly in the direction of the sound that

Skeeter had been hearing for several nights. Swamp born and

reared, they feared nothing they could shoot or outwit, so they

slipped out of the morass and to the side of a ridge. Suddenly,

Jesse put out his hand and stopped the child, then pointed up the

slope. The animal, clearly visible in the moonlight, was sitting

on its haunches, its head cocked sideways as it chuckled. It was

a merry and rather melodious little chuckle. Skeeter grinned in spite of his surprise, then said,

"Sh©h©h. It'll smell us." Jesse said, "Can't nothing smell that far. Wonder what the

durn thing is?" He peered up the ridge, studying the creature.