Having turned over twice, the deer started to toss off its assailant. It failed, and then attempted to run, hoping to dash the panther against a nearby tree. But the panther clung as tightly as ever to the deer’s throat, and before the tree was reached, it staggered for want of wind and loss of blood, for its shoulder was horribly mangled. Failing to reach the tree, it gathered itself up for a last effort and struck up with its hind hoofs, gashing the panther deeply in the lower portion of its body. Following this despairing kick it gave a convulsive shudder and fell back lifeless.
For a few seconds after the deer breathed its last, the panther held on. Then slowly its grip relaxed and it fell back, but with its stony gaze still fixed upon its victim.
“The deer is dead,” cried Dave. “And see, the painter is sneaking away! Shan’t I give him a shot now?”
“Wait! I don’t think he’ll go far,” answered Joseph Morris. “The deer cut him up pretty well.”
The sounds of human voices now for the first time attracted the attention of the panther, and taking its gaze from its lifeless prize it looked in the direction of Dave and his uncle. Then it gave a snarl of rage and dismay, and did its best to stand erect on its four short legs. But the effort was too much and it collapsed almost immediately.
“He’s done for,” said Joseph Morris. “The deer must have ripped him through and through. See, he can’t get up.”
Mr. Morris spoke the truth, the panther tried in vain to rise, at the same time gasping for breath and snarling with pain and rage. Once it took something of a step and Dave brought his gun up on a jump, but before the weapon could be leveled the panther was down on its side and stretching itself at full length.
“He is done for now,” said Joseph Morris. “It would be a waste of powder and ball to fire on him. It was a battle royal, and it’s a pity it wasn’t light enough for us to witness it in detail. Such a sight isn’t to be met with every day, even in such a wilderness as this.”
Saying he would watch the panther, he sent Dave back to replenish the fire and this the youth did so effectively that soon the glade was nearly as light as day. By this time the panther was almost gone, yet it was allowed to lay undisturbed for nearly half an hour before Joseph Morris came up behind it and cut its throat with his hunting knife, thus putting it out of its misery.
“I am glad the painter attacked the deer instead of us,” said Dave, as he took a close look at the great cat-like creature and shivered. “What a powerful beast, and what awful claws and teeth!”