Search for the Sunlight

Back at the gully, Sherlock was inflating the final marshmelon, when it occurred to him that if for any reason Herbert should fail to return with the vital supply of fresh ammunition, then their lives could be over. Basil loaded the last missile into Harry’s braces and took careful aim.

“Steady, steady,” he commanded, stretching the battle worn vines back to their extreme.

Harry’s knees began to tremble but, supporting his body between a large rock and a tree stump, he stood firm. “Steady, steady,” Basil repeated and, at precisely the right moment, he let go. With a mighty WHOOSH, the marshmelon took off into the darkness and for what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened.

They had almost given up hope of a strike, when suddenly, a volley of light and fire illuminated the fog and the smoke like flack, as the well aimed missile exploded spectacularly in the midst of the remaining flock.