They took a look around the locality where they were standing, and then turned back to where they had left their horses. They were still some distance from the animals when they heard one of the steeds give a sudden snort of alarm. Looking through the trees, they saw Phil's horse leap and plunge, and then the others did likewise, as if trying to break from their halters.
"Something is wrong!" cried Dave. "Come on, before the horses break away!"
"Something has scared them," put in Roger. "Keep your guns ready for a shot. It may be a bear!"
"No such luck!" declared Phil. Nevertheless, he swung his shotgun into position for firing, and his chums did likewise.
As the boys entered the opening where the horses were tied, Dave caught sight of what was causing the disturbance. Out on the branch of a tree, directly over the animals, was a chunky and powerful looking wildcat, commonly called in that section of the country a bobcat. Its eyes were gleaming wickedly, its teeth were exposed, and it acted as if ready to leap at the throat of one of the horses.
"Look!" cried Dave, and then, as quickly as he could, he leveled his shotgun, took aim, and fired. The report of the firearm was followed by a blood-curdling cry from the wildcat, and down from the tree limb it tumbled, to roll over and over on the ground between the horses.
"Oh, what a savage beast!" gasped Phil, and for the instant he was so taken aback that he did not know what to do.
"He'll drive the horses crazy!" shouted Roger. "Oh, if I could only get a shot at him!"
What the senator's son said about the horses was true. The wildcat had been badly, but not mortally, wounded, and now it was rolling and twisting on the ground, sending the dirt and leaves flying in all directions. The steeds were in a panic, and leaped and plunged hither and thither, doing their best to break away.
"I should have waited until we all had the chance to shoot," said Dave. "If I can catch my horse——"