“It won’t be much longer now,” thought Bob. “I’ve just got to turn and run. I can’t stand facing him out! I’m going to jump back, and maybe I can get behind a big rock, or something, long enough to yell for help. Here goes! I’m going to dodge!”
Something of his intention must have, in some way, been made manifest to the lion, or perhaps a sight movement on the part of the lad carried this intelligence to the beast. For, just as Bob was about to turn and flee, he saw the beast give a final quiver, and then, with a roar, launch itself into the air from the tree trunk. At the same moment a voice shouted:
“Fall, Bob! Lie down! Flop to the ground!”
Wondering why this advice was given, but recognizing that it came from some of his party, the stout lad threw himself forward. He saw the beast hurling itself toward him, and, a second later, there came a sharp report.
The body of the mountain lion seemed to crumple up, to become a knot in midair, and then, fairly turning a somersault, the beast crashed to the ground just beyond where Bob lay.
“Roll to one side! Get out of the way!” yelled the voice again, and Bob had presence of mind enough to obey. He knew that the beast, in its death agony, might reach and claw him. So Bob, being unable to do anything else, rolled to one side. Then, if ever, he was thankful for his fleshiness, for he did not so much mind the rough rocks over which his course took him.
Once more there came the cracking sound of a shot, and then Bob, raising his head, saw the body of the lion give a final quiver and lie still. It was dead.
“Great Peter, that was a close call!” exclaimed Jim Nestor, coming up as Bob arose. “I was afraid I couldn’t plug him with my revolver, but I managed to do it.”
“Did—did you shoot?” asked Bob, for his breath was still a little short from the fright and the exertion. “Did you shoot him, Jim?”
“I did, I’m thankful to say. I was following you up, looking for the gold nuggets, when I happened to see the pickle you were in. I knew there was no time to yell to the others for help, and less time to go back for a rifle. I happened to have my big revolver with me, but I knew it was taking desperate chances trying to plug a mountain lion with it at that distance. But it was all the chance I had, and I took it.”