“Far be it from us to imagine any such thing,” retorted Bob quickly, at which the boys had chuckled appreciatively. As a matter of fact, they were having far too good a time to wish themselves in Clintonia or anywhere but where they were.
Then one day, wandering in the woods, they came across their second great discovery. This was a quiet pool deep and still, surrounded by low-bending trees whose foliage fairly swept the placid surface of it.
The boys were quiet, lost in admiration of the beauty of the scene, then suddenly Jimmy was struck by an idea.
“I bet you anything, fellows,” he cried, his round face fairly radiating joy, “that there’s as fine fishing in this pool as any you’ve ever seen. I’m going back for my tackle.” And he had actually turned and headed back for the lodge before the boys fully grasped the meaning of what he was saying. Then, with a whoop, they followed him.
Luckily they had thought far enough to pack in their rods at the last moment and they knew exactly where to put their hands upon them. So it happened that they were back at that pool again in record time, equipped for fishing.
They caught fish too—numbers of them—beyond their wildest dreams, and they were just in the act of noisily proclaiming the proud Jimmy a hero when Bob’s gaze, traveling upward, froze suddenly with horror.
“For the love of Pete, Doughnuts,” he cried hoarsely, “don’t move!”
CHAPTER XIV
THE CROUCHING WILDCAT
Startled by the tone of Bob’s voice, the boys turned quickly, and Jimmy, disregarding his admonition not to move, screwed around till he could follow Bob’s gaze. Then an answering look of horror crept into his eyes.
There, directly above him, crouching low on an overhanging branch of the tree, was an animal that looked like nothing so much as an overgrown house cat. But instinctively the boys knew that those ferocious yellow eyes and small stubby ears flattened close to a sleek furry head belonged to no tame animal. It was a bobcat, one of the most vicious of the wild animals.