"The panther—and dying!"
The young officer was right. There on a shelf of rocks lay the wounded beast, its breath coming short and heavy, and its eyes letting out a glassy stare that caused the captain to shiver in spite of himself.
At the sight of a human being the panther tried to rise. But the effort was too much for it, and it sank down, groaning with pain, in a pool of blood which had formed.
At first Captain Moore thought to finish by putting a bullet through its head, but then he remembered that ammunition was scarce and lowered his rifle.
"He'll be dead by the time I get back," he thought, and continued on his way up the mountain side.
At last the top was gained, and he looked around eagerly. At first only the plain far below met his view, but presently he made out a spot which he knew must be the fort. But all was in a blue haze, and no details could be distinguished.
Having spent quarter of an hour on the mountain top he picked his way back to where he had left the panther. The creature had now breathed its last, and lay stiffened out on the rocky ledge.
"I must have something to eat, and so must Peck," he said to himself. "Panther steaks may be tough, but they will be better than nothing. I'll go back for the hunting-knife and cut off as much meat as we'll be likely to need for a couple of days."
When he reached Peck's side he found the soldier sleeping quietly, and did not disturb him. Going back, he cut off a generous slice of the panther meat, leaving the rest to the wild beasts.
The captain hated to build a fire, fearing it would attract the attention of the enemy, but he did not wish to eat the meat raw, and presently, having no matches, shot his gun into the midst of some dry leaves. By this means he soon had a blaze, which he fed with the driest wood he could find, thus avoiding a great cloud of smoke. Over the blaze he cooked the steak, which was soon done to a turn.