“Didn't you hear me say there was something in the cavern? I thought there were a couple of Apaches at first, but I guess it is a wild animal.”
The Irishman was all attention on the instant, and he started bolt upright.
“Whisht! what's that ye're saying? Will ye plaze say it over again?”
The lad hurriedly told him that an animal of some kind was lurking near them. Mickey caught up his rifle, and demanded to know where he was. In such darkness as enveloped them it was necessary that the eyes of the beast should be at a certain angle in order to become visible to the two watchers. Both heard his light footsteps, and knew where the eyes were likely to be discerned.
“There he is!” exclaimed Fred, as he caught sight of the green, phosphorescent glitter of the two orbs, which is peculiar to the eyes of the feline species.
Mickey detected them at the same moment, and drew his rifle to his shoulder. He kept the kneeling position, fearing that the target would vanish if he should wait until he could rise. It is no easy thing for a hunter to take aim when he is utterly unable to detect the slightest portion of his weapon, and it was this fact which caused Mickey to delay his firing. However, before he could make his aim any way satisfactory, a bright thought struck him, and he lowered his gun, carefully letting the hammer down upon the tube.
“Ain't you going to fire?” asked the lad, who could not understand the delay.
“Whisht, now! would ye have me slay me best friend?”
“I don't understand you, Mickey.”
“S'pose I'd shot the baste, whatever he is, that would be the end of him; but lave him alone, and he'll show us the way out.”