Read Online Trolls on Hols by Alan MacDonald - Free Book Online

Mr Priddle.
    But he was talking to himself – the trolls were already creeping forward through the trees towards the moor and whatever was out there.
    Ulrik peered out from behind a tree at the edge of the woods. He could see the beast’s dark head over the top of a stone wall. His mum and dad stole forward to join him.
    â€˜Ready?’ whispered Mr Troll.
    Ulrik and Mrs Troll nodded.
    â€˜No roaring,’ hissed Mr Troll. ‘Let’s take it by surprises.’
    â€˜You’re the one who’s always roaring,’ said Mrs Troll sniffily.
    â€˜Shhh!’ said Ulrik, gripping his stick.
    â€˜After three,’ said Mr Troll. ‘One, two, three …’
    The Trolls came running and bounding out of the wood and threw themselves on top of the beast. Ulrik leapt on its back and grabbed it around the neck. It toppled over limply.Something funny had happened to its growls, which sounded like someone gargling underwater. Ulrik let go and sat up, staring in surprise.
    â€˜Good goblins!’ said Mr Troll. ‘It’s just a dog.’
    The black Labrador lay on its side, staring ahead with glassy eyes. It had been stuffed and mounted on wheels like a pull-along toy. Under the dog’s belly were two speakers from which came the deafening growls and howls they’d heard earlier. Someone, it seemed, had been playing a trick.
    A hundred yards down the slope, the headlights of a truck lit up the moor. Ulrik recognised the pair of yellow eyes he thought he’d seen from the woods. The driver turned off the engine and got out, closing the door. Even from this distance Ulrik recognised the baggy trousers and shabby coat.
    â€˜Look! It’s Ogwen!’ he whispered.
    â€˜Good Gravy! So it is!’ Now the fighting was over, the Priddles had crept forward to join them. The five of them crouched in the dark to watch. Ogwen put his fingers to his mouth and whistled to his dogs. Fang and Claw were rounding up a small flock of confused-looking sheep and chasingthem towards the back of the truck. In a few minutes the farmer had them all inside and the tailgate bolted shut. Ogwen gave another shrill whistle, calling in his dogs.
    â€˜I don’t believe it,’ hissed Mr Priddle. ‘He’s a rustler!’
    â€˜A wrestler?’ Mr Troll looked puzzled.
    â€˜He’s stealing them, Dad. They’re not his sheep,’ explained Ulrik.
    â€˜Great goblins! You mean he’s a robber?’
    â€˜Yes!’
    Mr Troll bunched his fists and rose to his feet. There was nothing he hated more than robbers. ‘Wait till I catch him!’ he threatened. ‘I’ll tromp on his bellies. I’ll swing him by the uncles!’
    Ulrik pulled him back. ‘Wait, Dad. I’ve got a better idea.’
    â€˜Better than tromping?’
    â€˜Yes. Let’s see how
he
likes getting a fright.’
    Ogwen closed the door of his truck and grinned toothlessly.
    He was pleased with his night’s work. Twenty-three more sheep to add to his growing flock. Atthis rate he’d soon be the richest farmer in Aberduffy.
    He returned to the edge of the woods, where he’d left Bessie. It was amazing what you could do with a stuffed dog and a few sound effects. At the edge of the woods he stopped and looked around, baffled. The dog had gone! Vanished! But that was impossible – how could it walk off by itself?
    â€˜Grarrgghh!’ A loud roar from the darkness startled him. It wasn’t like the growls and howls on the tape – this sounded all too real and alive.
    â€˜Who’s there?’ he asked, trying to steady his quavering voice.
    The reply was close to a second roar, this time the truck. His escape was cut off. Ogwen backed away towards the trees, trembling. There was more than one of them – maybe a whole pack of wolves or bears closing in on him.
    â€˜GRARRGH!’ The next roar was so loud he yelped and crashed through the woods, ducking