. ‘Hallooo. Hallooo. Rip Van Winkle. Rip Van Winkle.’ He glanced around, yet saw nothing but a black crow winging its solitary way across the mountain peaks. He thought his imagination must be playing tricks with him, and he turned again to descend. Suddenly, he heard the same cry ring through the still night air.
‘Hallooo. Hallooo. Rip Van Winkle. Rip Van Winkle.’ This time the hair on Wolf’s back bristled and he gave a low growl.