Night Rigging

Soft squeaks won't hold the line when shadows fall. The birch log hollow was deep and dry, but an unbarred gate invites prowlers. I drove the handle of my acorn-tipped spoon straight into a crack inside the rotten wood until it stood rigid. Next came the zinc hex nut. I threaded my silver ball-chain through its heavy center, then whipped the loop around a tough birch splinter. Brought out the brass leash clip and snapped the spring tongue dead over the spoon's metal neck with a deafening clack. Gave the zinc weight a hard kick with my boot. Zero slack. The perimeter is fortified for the dark watch.