Disclaimer: I do not own The Lost World or any of it's characters. I also don't Own the night before Christmas.

Author's Note: I really enjoyed this one. I did a Drama project on "The Night Before Christmas"...and I just couldn't get the rhymes out of my head. Thanks again Suzie Q!

The Night Before Hunting

'Twas the night before hunting, when all through the Treehouse

Not a critter was stirring, not even a mouse;

The knapsacks were hung by the elevator with care,
In hopes that daybreak soon would be there;

The explorers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of raptors prowled in their heads;

And me in my nightgown, and white cotton cap,
Had just settled down for a long quiet nap,

When out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

I put on my silk robe, and pulled off my white cap,

And I took a deep breath before I could snap.

The moon on the crest of the polished wood floor.
Gave the lustre of mid-day and mid-night no more.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the glimpse of a face and the side of an ear.

The rifle that hung on the mantle was gone.
I knew in an instant the man was Lord John.

More rapid than eagles his movements they came,
As he collected and tossed and said them by name;

"The first aid, the guns, the bullets and food,

The canteens and holsters, " He was in a good mood.

"To the knapsack you go, from the self on the wall
So we can dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So into the knapsack, his supplies they went in.
He let loose his smile, that lopsided grin.

And then, in a twinkling, I saw by the moon,
He tapped both his feet and whistled a tune.

As I drew back my head, and was turning around,
Challenger started to snore, "What a sound!"

He was dressed all in khaki, from his foot to his head,
And on his shirt was a blood stain, in deep, dark red.

A bundle of supplies he had on his back,
And he looked like a peddler filling up his pack.

His eyes - how they sparkled! His shoulders how broad!
His grin got larger as he acknowledged me with a nod.

My eyes, they went back to the stain on his shirt,

My heart gave a jump at the thought he was hurt.

I flew down to his side, and cried "Is it sore?"

He grimaced, and nodded, I promised "no more".

I gathered some bandages, water and oil,

I cleaned and with linen I started to coil.

When the wound was all wrapped tight, and tied taught,

He sighed a sigh of relief I thought.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He was feeling much better, and sat down with me,
And we talked and we chatted over a hot cup of tea.

We talked then of Challenger, and Malone too.

And of Veronica and Summerlee. "Oh what to do?"

We talked of his home and my lack for there of,

As we talked, and we smiled, I was filled full of love.

But I heard him exclaim, as he kissed me good-night,
"Happy hunting to all, and to all a good-night."

The End.

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