Paw Prints in the Moonlight Read Free

my conscience won the day and I resolved to try to track and find the cat. What I would do then was a matter for future consideration. Quickly fortifying myself with my sheepskin jacket, the thickest gloves I could find and Wellington boots, I armed myself with a walking stick and set off in pursuit before I could change my mind.
    The cat’s paw tracks in the snow were easy enough to pick out by the light of the moon, especially where they were spattered with blood. Under the trees it was harder to see the tracks, particularly as they meandered through a dense clump of blackthorn and sometime later through a plantation of young firs. I floundered through packed snow, breathing hard, as the trail plunged down a sharp incline. I slithered and fell as I tried to find it again after it had disappeared through an overgrown drainage ditch. Sweating profusely and already exhausted, I wondered where the cat was going: surely it should have given up by now. Abruptly, the tracks turned almost at a right angle as the cat headed, to my relief, over open country. This animal had a definite purpose in mind but I puzzled over what it could be. Tired and out of breath, I was already feeling that I’d had enough. I decided that if I didn’t find it soon, I would turn back for home.
    The trail suddenly became more direct and appeared to head for a tumbledown barn in the near distance. I had to
marvel at this animal’s stamina, especially in places where it had literally dragged itself through the snow. It was hard enough for me to walk as I kept sliding and losing balance on the freezing ground.
    Soon I was standing inside the opening of the derelict building. At first it was hard to see anything in the darkness, but after a time my eyes adjusted to the gloom. With the help of the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside, I began to search the darker corners where I thought a wounded cat might go. I had no luck there. Mystified, I started to examine the walls of the separate stalls because I thought a cat could perhaps climb up into a corner or some other hiding place that wasn’t easy to see from the ground. At last, I found a pathway of bloodspots which traced the cat’s passage to where a broken door gave access to an inner shed. The door had seen better days and I was easily able to wrench it open, but there was nothing inside except a rusty corn bin and some straw. I regretted not bringing a torch. Through holes in the timbers I could see that it had begun snowing again. The wind blew flakes of it through the gaps against my face and clothing as I searched around. It felt bitterly cold even in the shelter of the barn and I could feel a chill on my back from the cold sweat of my shirt. I worried that the search was probably foolhardy, but I was determined to persevere for a little while longer.
    There was no sign of the cat anywhere but a closer
inspection of the wall around a warped wooden shelf revealed more spots of blood and a well-defined route of scratch marks leading upwards. Judging from the signs I’d seen, the cat was bleeding badly and possibly wouldn’t last much longer without help. It could be anywhere in the roof area and it probably wouldn’t be safe for me to go up there even if I somehow managed the climb. Then I remembered that when I came in I’d noticed a ladder lying near the entrance to the barn.
    Hurrying back to the front of the building I found the wooden ladder half-buried in dirt. Pulling it free I saw that two rungs were missing. It looked to be in a poor state but I thought it might be worth giving it a try. Quickly propping the ladder up against the wall where I believed the cat had climbed, I found it reached right up to where there was a sort of hatchway into the roof. The ladder must have been used in the past to gain access to a hay store in the loft. The hatchway didn’t look too high so I thought I’d chance it. If I still couldn’t find the cat after