"What tracks are they?" Charley repeated, with bated breath. "Are they wolf tracks or bear tracks?"
"They looks something like bear tracks, but 'tis not a bear made un," answered Toby. "'Tis not heavy enough for a bear, and bear tracks has nail marks. This un has no nail marks. A bear steps longer, too. 'Tis the track of a lynx, I'm thinkin'."
"Is a lynx dangerous?" asked Charley, a strange tingle chasing up and down his spine.
"They're not like to be unless they gets cornered," said Toby. "Anything fights when 'tis cornered. Even a fox would do that. This track is fresh. 'Twere just made. I'm thinkin' the lynx is handy by, and we might get a shot at un. He's around huntin' rabbits. Let's follow he."
"All right, I'm for it!" agreed Charley, quite excited at the prospect of a lynx hunt.
The two boys set forward in silence, following the well defined trail left by the animal. They had gone but a short distance when Toby stopped and pointed at a red-stained and trampled place in the snow, with some bits of fur lying about.
"He kills a rabbit here," whispered Toby. "See how fresh 'tis. That stick is fresh wet with the rabbit's blood. 'Tis sure a lynx. 'Tis the only beast makin' that big track that kills rabbits. I knows now 'tis a lynx."
"It must be very near!" whispered Charley, his heart beating fast.
"We're like to see he any minute," agreed Toby. "He's right handy. We'll have to be keepin' wonderful quiet now."
"Will he run when he sees us?" asked Charley anxiously.