In the meantime the other soldiers came up to the edge of the brook. They realized their captain's peril, and as soon as the panther showed itself two of them blazed away, one hitting the beast in the back and the other landing a bullet in the panther's neck.
The fury of the animal was now intense, and whirling around it lashed the water of the brook into a perfect foam. Then it leaped for the opposite shore, and made a break for the underbrush. Before anybody could fire again it was gone.
When Captain Moore regained the surface of the brook willing hands helped him out.
"Hurt?" questioned Peck anxiously.
"A little—on the shoulder," was the answer, with a gasp. "Where is the beast?"
"Got away in yonder bushes, sir. That's a nasty dig. You had better let me bind it up."
"Carwell, how are you?"
"The beast nipped me in the arm," answered the private, trying to suppress a groan. "By George, but he was an ugly one!"
"That's right," put in another soldier. "You can be thankful you wasn't chewed up."
A brief search revealed the fact that the panther had left the vicinity, and then the others set to work to bind up the wounds the captain and Carwell had sustained.