It turned out that such a thing was not needed. Halted in midair by the double charge of shot, which at such close range must have had the same tearing effect as so many bullets, the wildcat fell with a heavy thud to the ground, some five feet away from where Elmer stood. He instantly covered the beast with his gun.
"No need of another shot, my boy!" cried the owner of the cabin, hastily; "you've already settled him handsomely."
The wretched invader had indeed paid the penalty for his crimes, and all because he possessed such a terrible temper. Had he been willing to jump in the other direction the chances were nothing would have been done to prevent his escape, so that he might furnish Uncle Caleb with other opportunities to snap him off when in the act perhaps of devouring a partridge he had captured in the snow forest. When he allowed his fury to get the better of his discretion he made the one mistake of his life.
All of them gathered around the now dead wildcat to admire his size, and comment on his recklessness in daring to attack a party of human beings.
"Did you ever hear of such nerve in all your life?" remarked Lil Artha, who was grinning all over with the satisfaction it gave him to be instrumental in disposing of such a pest of the woods. "Why, if there had been a regiment I reckon he'd have jumped at 'em just the same. Mebbe cats go mad sometimes, and just don't know what they're doing."
"I've known of similar cases before," remarked Uncle Caleb, who was looking at the wretched beast rather sadly, Elmer thought, "and a hunter who has had experience never trusts a cat further than he can see it. They get those crazy freaks once in a while, and fear seems to be driven out of their system. When a Malay or a Chinaman loses his head, and starts to wipe out the whole town, they say he is 'running amuck,' and they always shoot him down as they would a mad dog. This cat species when rendered furious does the same thing, and hesitates at nothing. But I'm sorry it had to be done. He was a splendid specimen of a wildcat. Look at those powerful muscles, and see what a square head he has. I'd have given considerable to have had him a little more sociable, so that I might have snapped off several pictures showing how he secured his food, and crept up on game. But it couldn't be helped, apparently; he just had to go and commit suicide as it seemed. And, Elmer, you certainly pulled a quick trigger."
"Half the credit goes to Lil Artha, for he fired at the same time," Elmer quickly admitted. "I'm sure both of us hit him, because you can see how badly the pelt is cut up. It would never bring ten cents in the market after that riddling."
"Is it possible that there were two shots, and I never suspected it?" Uncle Caleb observed, turning on the tall scout with a smile. "Well, I can easily see that you boys have long ago learned how to take care of yourselves, which is one of the best things any lad can know. All of which increases my desire to hear more about this organization that is doing such wonders for our American lads."
"Do you think you got your picture of the cat, Uncle?" asked Toby. "I heard you call out something or other about it."
"I pressed the button while he was squatting on the top of the chimney," the owner of the cabin went on to say, "and that should be a fine picture. Then almost mechanically I turned the screw that brought another section of film into play, and my recollection is that I snapped off another shot even as the beast was in the air. I'm curious to know if I got anything worth while with that one. It would be a great triumph if I should develop the film and find that I'd caught the cat just as it received your shots and crumpled up in midair."