Old Jerry turned back to get a pistol or a club. As he did this Tom rushed past him and up to Dick's side. Taking a hasty aim, Tom discharged the pistol twice.
Another growl rang out and the beast dropped back, shot through the foreshoulder and the neck. Then Tom let drive once more and the beast fell forward, shot through the left front leg.
"Good for you, Tom!" cried Dick, as he arose.
"What is it?" came from Captain Blossom, as he appeared with a shotgun. A shot from this finished the beast and it rolled over and over in its death agonies, and Sam finished it with a blow on the head with a big club.
By this time the girls were crowding outside, having clothed themselves with whatever was handiest. Torches were lit, and a ship's lantern, and all went to examine the creature.
"It looks like a tiger," declared Tom. "Only it is not quite so large."
"I should say it was a California puma," came from old Jerry. "He's a bad one, too."
"I think they call them jaguars out here," said Dick. "They all belong to the same family, you know. Some old American hunters would call it a painter."
"Never mind what it is," said Dora, with a shudder. "I am thankful that it is dead."
"You can be thankful that it didn't chew Dick up," added Tom. "He was in a tight corner, I can tell you that."