Собака Баскервиллей
The Stapletons of Merripit House
"Queerplace,themoor! "saidhe.
"Butwhatisit?"
"ThepeasantssayitistheHoundoftheBaskervillescallingforitsprey. I’vehearditonceortwicebefore,butneverquitesoloud."
Ilookedround,withachilloffearinmyheart,atthehugeswellingplain,mottledwiththegreenpatchesofrushes. Nothingstirredoverthevastexpansesaveapairofravens,whichcroakedloudlyfromatorbehindus.
"Youareaneducatedman. Youdon’tbelievesuchnonsenseasthat?"saidI. "Whatdoyouthinkisthecauseofsostrangeasound?"
"Bogsmakequeernoisessometimes. It’sthemudsettling,orthewaterrising,orsomething."
"No,no,thatwasalivingvoice."
"Well,perhapsitwas. Didyoueverhearabitternbooming?"
"No,Ineverdid."
"It’saveryrarebird—practicallyextinct—inEnglandnow,butallthingsarepossibleuponthemoor. Yes,Ishouldnotbesurprisedtolearnthatwhatwehaveheardisthecryofthelastofthebitterns."
"It’stheweirdest,strangestthingthateverIheardinmylife."
"Yes,it’sratheranuncannyplacealtogether. Lookatthehill-sideyonder. Whatdoyoumakeofthose?"
Thewholesteepslopewascoveredwithgraycircularringsofstone,ascoreofthematleast.
