“Look out, Jim!” Virginia screamed suddenly.
There was a snarl and a streak of yellow leaped from the low-hanging limb of a tree. Jim’s horse reared wildly and plunged away as its rider was dragged from the saddle by the impact of the cougar’s weight.
For a second none of the riders could do anything but check their mounts. All the horses threatened to run away and careened wildly, almost unseating their riders. Meanwhile, Jim was thrashing about on the ground, struggling for his life while his companions watched helplessly.
“Quiet, boy,” Gale said, a soothing hand on her trembling pony’s neck. With her other hand she unfastened her rope.
“Look out, I’m going to shoot,” Tom said, raising his rifle to his shoulder.
“Don’t!” Carol cried. “You might hit Jim.”
“But the beast is killing him,” Janet said with a shudder. “Somebody do something!”
Despite Carol’s warning, Tom discharged his gun and succeeded only in frightening the ponies more. Jim was fighting madly to keep the sharp claws and teeth away from his face and throat.
Once more Gale spoke to her pony and patted him reassuringly. He jerked nervously under her hand, but he was by far the quietest one of the beasts. During the days in the saddle Gale had learned the tricks and tendencies of her mount and she had instilled a trust in him for his rider. Now, though he longed to flee from this spot with its danger, he stood quietly obedient to her voice and touch. In her hand Gale held her coiled rope. Tom had dismounted and handed the reins of his horse and of the pack horses to Carol and was edging nearer to those thrashing figures on the ground. Virginia, too, had dismounted.
At the first opportune moment, Gale’s rope slithered out and fell over the two. The loop caught a hind leg of the cougar. Immediately it tightened and the snapping teeth were diverted from Jim to the rope about its leg.