Scary sounds and scary sights at Dendringham Hall – scary enough to terrify Dot’s governess Miss Walsingham. But not Dot Com!
“It’s huge!” said Wizzie. “REALLY big! Isn’t it Victor?”
“What is, dear boy?” said the St Bernard in his deep rumbling voice.
“For heaven’s sake. Victor!” said Angharad the Welsh Terrier. “Do try to keep up!”
Dot was in the stables at the Hall, where the three dogs had just been having their supper – Miss Walsingham had said she could go and say goodnight. That was lucky, because if anyone knew what ‘The Paw’ was, they would. The governess had been so scared she could hardly speak about it.
Dot had guessed she’d be able to talk to the other dogs just like she could with Wizzie – and it turned out she could. Net-voyaging was just magic!
She’d left Mr Mouse in the ‘Afternoon Nursery’, which was next door to the school room. He’d been having another one of his naps, so she’d tucked him up in a tiny bed inside the most A-MAZING doll’s house she’d ever seen.
Couldn’t WAIT to see what he’d say when he woke up!
The dogs had a stall all to themselves, with straw on the floor and some old blankets to lie on. Behind them in the stables, the horses of Dendringham Hall were chomping away at their supper, while the grooms (they’re the people who looked after horses in the olden days in the big houses) got them ready for the night.
The big St Bernard was still looking puzzled.
“Oh come ON Victor!” said Angharad with an impatient little whine.
“Oh I see, you mean the PAW!” said Victor, laughing so hard that the floppy bits on either side of his face flapped about. “Ho ho ha ho! Oh yes simply ENORMOUS!” Angharad did a big sigh and Wizzie rolled his eyes at Dot and grinned.
Victor went over and had a drink of water from a big brown bowl and then flopped down on his tummy with his big pink tongue hanging out.
Angharad danced round and round impatiently, her floppy ears bouncing up and down. “Go on then! Tell Miss Dorothea about it! You’re the only one of us who’s see it!”
“Seen what?” said Victor, looking puzzled.
“The PAW!” said Angharad, going up and giving the St Bernard a push with her beardy little head.
“Steady on, old thing!” said Victor. “Yes, now, um… well Gordon the head groom was giving me a walk one day when you had that hurting leg of yours… how is it by the way?”
“Eeeek!” said Angharad. “Get ON!!”
“Oh, yes, well we’d just come out of the Colonnade…” he turned to Dot. “You must have a look at that my dear… wonderful sight… two lines of oak trees, a hundred each side… perfect for when you need to do what a dog’s got to do… masses to choose from for morning duties… oops!” he said (ever seen a St Bernard dog blush?!) “Forgot you humans don’t have to do that! Do beg pardon!”
“Vic-TOR!!!!!” said Angharad. “Please GET ON!”
“Mm, well, there it was” said Victor, lifting up a paw to stop Angharad head-butting him in his tummy. “It was GINORMOUS, old thing… size of a dinner plate… and there were eight of them, going across the field away from the colonnade. Paw prints! Like from a huge animal. Not a dog though… or a horse… certainly not a cow or a sheep. It was sort of round. With three bumps round the edge. Couldn’t make it out at all!”
So that was what Miss Walsingham had been so frightened of, thought Dot. So frightened she hadn’t been able to get the words out to tell her in the school room.
“What do you think it might have been then?” she asked.
Victor shook his big head again. “Dear thing, I just don’t know” he said slowly. “But I’ll tell you one thing. It didn’t smell right.” His voice dropped even lower
and he shook his big head.
“Not right at all!”
