They're bleating, yapping, squealing, chirping and clucking as they
nibble and peck away at the leftover food.
'It's like a zoo,' Roger laughs.
'It's good that our table scraps aren't wasted,' I say.
'Yes,' Roger adds, 'but it'll sure be a mess for someone to clean up in the
morning.'
The animals don't seem to mind our watching. They go right on
scrounging and eating.
'Let's go back to the tent,' Roger yawns.
'I suppose we'd better,' I say, 'or we'll be too tired for tomorrow's
adventure.'
'Right,' Roger yawns again, 'That's one I don't want to miss.'
Nor do I. I' m really looking forward to it.
Back in our tent, I hang the lantern back on its hook and switch it off.
We crawl back into our sleeping bags. Roger yawns again as he
snuggles into the softness.
I think of the little animals having a feast among the trees, and feel glad
they can get at the food. I slip down so that my head isn't cold, pull up
my knees and wrap my arms around myself. I feel cozy.
***
'What happened the next day?' I asked.
'Wait and see,' Roger grinned.
The Little Old Man's Strange Story
When Suzanne and Roger left after the last story they were mysterious
about the next one, except that they did tell me to bring along a
sandwich.
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