Dan examined the bloody carcass of the great lynx lying by Paul’s side.
“There’s where your bullet comes,” said he, pointing at a furrow along the top of the head. “’T were breakin’ th’ skin an’ stunnin’ he. He just comes to, like you’re doin’ now, when you gets over, an’ bein’ sort o’ cornered he jumps on you. That’s th’ way of all beasts. Anything’ll turn on a feller when ’tis cornered.”
“I thought I was a goner, and I don’t understand how I ever killed it. Do I seem to be hurt much? I feel sore all over.”
“Not so bad. Scratched a bit, but ’t ain’t no account. You sticks your knife in his heart. Feelin’ like gettin’ up now?”
“I’ll try.”
With Dan’s assistance Paul rose to his feet, but he felt very weak, and uncertain on his legs.
“I never can walk back to the boat, Dan.”
“We’ll not be goin’ back t’ th’ boat this evenin’. There, keep a good holt of me, an’ we’ll cross th’ creek an’ put a fire on. You’re shiverin’ with th’ cold.”