“Go ahead, Thad!” whispered Giraffe.
“Go on!” muttered Step Hen, partly holding his breath with suspense.
“All right. Here she goes!”
Hardly had Thad spoken these words than there was a dazzling flash. He had been wise enough to hold the little cartridge pistol out at right angles, so that the fierce white glare might not blind them, as he hoped it would do in connection with the panther.
All of the boys were eagerly on the watch; and knowing just where to look they instantly sighted the panther. The abrupt and terrific burst of intense light had produced an effect upon the startled beast, just as Thad and Allan had so confidently predicted.
The boys saw a long, lithe, gray body leap wildly into the air. This was the beast that had just been disputing their right to advance further into his domain.
Evidently the cautious nature of the panther, together with his well-known fear of fire, had combined to give him a shock; for when he made that spasmodic leap into the air, it was away from the “little lightning,” and not toward it.
For a second or two only did that brilliant illumination continue. Then darkness once more swallowed up the surroundings; and doubtless it was all the more dense to the eyes of the four boys because of that recent dazzling flash.
They could hear a patter of feline feet among the dead leaves; but the sounds were retreating. There also came a low whimper. Allan told them later that a panther always gives utterance to such a complaining sound when he has been whipped in a fight, and made to slink off; or else frightened in any way.
“He’s gone!” said Allan, reassuringly.