The end of the story at Trail Wood

Trail Wood #44 Earl Plato
Teale wrote: “Our scent means nothing to the calling frogs but any sound or sight of our approach alarms them. There are times when he breaking of a twig or the scraping of a shoe is enough to silence their chorus. Now with the wind carrying any small noises we may make to the rear we are able o work, little by little, nearer the pond. We see the water swirling with constant movement. We hear the confused, hush commingling of the voices. Through our glasses we see the frogs floating quietly, darting ahead in sudden rushes, sending rings of ripples spreading outward when they call. We note the brownish-black mask running back along the side of the head above the whitish jaw stripe. Then. I the impatient one, move a little closer for a better view, and the curtain drops on the show before us. Sound and action cease.”