It kept Perk sitting there fully ten minutes before finally dying out nor did he ever know whether one or both quarreling creatures had been extinguished, like the famous cats of Kilkenny, each of which thought “there was one cat too many.”
“Some circus, b’lieve me,” Perk told himself, with many a chuckle, for he had been vastly amused and entertained by that aggregation of furious sounds, “but it’s okay with me so long’s they scrap ’mong themselves an’ leave us alone. I ain’t lost no kitty as I know of, an’ there’s some more sleep I c’n make use of if they put the brakes on their whoopin’ things up.”
With that he snuggled down once more and forgot all his troubles for the balance of the night. If there were any further ancient feuds still to be settled among the old-time inhabitants of that section, Perk was unaware of the slaughter for he did not open his eyes until the first peep of dawn announced the coming of another day.
Jack still slept, it would seem, for he lay there like a mummy while Perk proceeded to crawl out and get into his clothes with the full intention of slipping ashore, reviving the fire and starting to prepare breakfast. Apparently his enormous supper of the previous evening must have digested and that awful vacuum he detested so much was already calling for help.
He chanced to have a sore toe that gave him a painful twitch every little while and not feeling disposed to tramp around collecting fuel until he had remedied this physical distress, he sat down to pull off his footgear and fasten a little wad of cotton between the offending member and its neighbor.
Once while thus busily engaged Perk imagined he caught a slight thud, as of something striking a root or fallen branch. He raised his head to listen, with those ravenous timber wolves flashing into his mind but then everything seemed nice and quiet again so that believing he had only imagined he heard suspicious sounds he once more bent down to complete his little task.
Then, without hardly any warning, there suddenly burst forth the most diabolical sound Perk had ever heard in all his life. Something similar to the braying of army mules over in France, he thought.
Perk probably felt his blood run cold, for that frightful racket was not more than twenty feet distant. Wildly he stared, expecting to see some savage beast, perhaps with the stripes of a real jungle tiger, come leaping from behind the adjacent rock heaps and make directly for him, unarmed as he was.
Regaining the use of his limbs Perk turned tail and made for the friendly left wing of the ship, taking huge jumps and anticipating that some supple body was apt to land on his back despite his haste.
Jack was there in full sight and worse luck, he did not even seem to have thought to snatch up the handy gun when that frightful roar echoed and re-echoed up and down hill in the valley of the silver lake.