A blanket of clouds covered the stars. I approached the grass with care. I remembered being told that you should shuffle your feet and make as much noise as possible. That would scare them away. I couldn’t see a thing. I might as well be blind.
I entered the knee high grass and headed in the direction of the hole in the fence. Once I reached it, I could take the dirt path on the other side. My knees shook and the grass brushed against my trousers. I saw the faint outline of the fence. Lights from faraway huts twinkled in the distance. My eyes had adapted to the darkness.
I reached the ragged hole in the fence and gave a sigh of relief. Then it rose up. It looked like a curved black whip. The head reached my shoulder and its mean eyes glared at me. I saw the forked tongue flickering, tasting the air in preparation for a strike. I stood motionless. I knew I had no chance.