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In our English and Guided Reading learning, we have been inferring, unpicking and writing about extracts from Arthur Conan Doyle's iconic 'Hound of the Baskervilles'. We have been writing setting and beast descriptions and continuing the story after Holmes, Watson and Lestrade meet the Hellhound!

As the cold mist surrounded my petrified, helpless body, I spotted a faint shadow creeping towards me in the mist. There were muffles screams, roars and thumps crowding my ears as the shadow became darker. I could smell the fear and cold mist wafting past me. Could it not all be a hallucination? I think not. The damp, dusty air grew closer to me and I could almost taste it, but barely. Just then, out of the curtain of fog, came a beast. Not just any beast, a monster! Chequered, stone skin, charcoal horns and razor, sharp teeth. It charged faster than the speed of light back into the mist. Why did it run? Was it scared? But then, I looked behind me. A striped, colossal brute stood, bearing his crooked fangs, his head twitching as he stared into my bewildered eyes.

Sophia Roberts

Then echoing from out of the mist and darkness came a growl. A growl to raise hell, a growl that made every single strand of hair on my body stand up. Soon following was a shape, a wolf, perhaps a hound, hackles raised. Silently putting one foot in front of the other, Holmes and I retreated a step or two, so close together that the chattering of our teeth created an infinitely loud din.

Could this creature sense apprehension and fear? Being a medical man I decided (or hoped) not. But then, the shape turned tail and started circling around us. He was sizing us up, wondering if we were to be his next meal. Suddenly, an idea struck me.


Max Ashton

So paralysed were we by the apparition that we allowed him to pass before we had recovered our nerve.

Once he was out of sight, myself, Lestrade and Holmes picked ourselves up from the murky floor and ran through what had just happened in our minds. Lestrade started questioning everything. Who was the dog? What was it doing on the peaceful moor of Grimpen Mire? Myself and Holmes were speechless for a moment before he spoke out “We must follow the hound, and document it to show the public.”

Lestrade nodded his head silently and I murmured to him “OK, lets’ go…”

Holmes (being the detective he was) immediately spotted a peculiar trail of footprints in the shape of giant paws, so we followed them. Holmes carrying the notebook, Lestrade and I following him. For quite a while we waded through the ghostly fog, only barely spotting the large footprints but we were determined. Then, finally, Holmes stopped dead in his tracks. Myself and Lestrade peered in front of Holmes’ interfering shoulders. We saw the charcoal-black body, eyes like embers and the stained yellow fangs of the hound…dead.

Holmes steadied himself. I saw Lestrade’s eyes gleam with relief. The giant hound was dead.


Olivia Crookes

So paralysed were we by the apparition that we allowed it to pass before we had recovered our nerve. After pacing the clearing, the shadow of the beast disappeared. We were amazed.

“Do you think it’s gone?”

“It might come back, we must be careful.” Each of us were speaking under our breath. We knew it would be back. It could sense us. I was sure of it.

It had come. A slight movement told us so. But it had seen Lestrade. By the time I had drawn my gun, Lestrade was on the ground…

The first mistake I made was standing up…revealing myself.

It had been scuttling towards my fallen partner, but I had been seen. I knew the game was up. It had already leapt. I hadn’t noticed him get up, but Holmes was already on his feet, aiming his pistol at the monster of a hound. Before I was taken down, I managed to dodge the attack but the beast hadn’t noticed the bullet slicing its way through the air. It had been aimed at the head of the animal but had hit the body. I was already crawling as fast as I could to Lestrade’s machete. It was inches away from my outstretched arm. Before I clasped my hand round the handle, I was wrestling the beast. It was weakening me, I was almost defeated.

I pushed it away and rolled away. That was my second mistake. I was in front of the machete and I was cut across the arm. Luckily, Lestrade was already on his knees. He was a sharp-shooter. He didn’t let himself down. It fell to the ground. The giant hound was dead. I was still conscious. It could have been disastrous.

The giant hound was dead.


Freddie Ley

I was stumbling around in the gloomy, ghostly fog cutting my trembling hands on sharps rocks when suddenly a giant silhouette of a monstrous, wild dog appeared upon a rock standing like a king. My heart pounded and I approached the creature with great caution. I got closer and closer to the dog when something made me stop in my tracks. A blood chilling muffled howl made me so terrified I could smell my own fear. I backed off but the creature must have caught my scent because it began prowling my way. The silhouette disappeared in the thick, milky fog. Suddenly, I smelt a rotting flesh and I knew it was the foul creature’s breath. I think I must have started hallucinating because I saw so many dog shadows and then they disappeared instantly. I drew my gun waiting for the foul creature to pounce but it never did.


Rupert Ewing

As I stand on the foggy moor I feel the smoky fog wrapping around me. I am looking around and I see yellow brown razor sharp teeth. I can’t hear anything as the colourless bleached fog muffles the sound and boom! Out comes the creature from the shadows. Slimy and slippery or sneaky and slithering it comes towards me. I could hear the sound of its jaw opening. It was like I could smell the fear coming closer and closer. I thought the fog mad bringing thunder and lightning even a swirl of white vapour came down from the sky like a flash of thunder coming as an evil soldier. The smell of the chalky milky fog is so strong I can barely smell the ash coming out of his breath. Silent sneaky fog covers me and the creature as I run for my life.


Charlie Standfield

Year 6 have been extremely creative in their writing over the past couple of weeks. Using the incredible ‘Inside the Villians’ book as their inspiration, they have written: first person character descriptions; ‘more about me’ factfiles; retold a traditional tale that contains a wolf and researched and created non fiction texts about wolves.

if that wasn’t enough, they have also published all their work into a chapter of a book that includes a Pop-up Wolf! The results are fantastic!

Our finished books look fantastic,we can’t wait to hear what Year 3 think when they do their wolves topic later in the year.

To start the year we revisited the poem ‘A Child’s Thoughts’ by Robert Louis Stevenson. This time we focused on 2020 and our dreams and the reality of waking up to the world we are living in.