He started toward the tree indicated, pausing only long enough to pick up a stout section of a fallen branch that lay at his feet. Fred and Lee followed his example, and they made quietly for the tree, controlling an almost overpowering impulse to break into a run. They kept a wary lookout, and before they reached it, all three saw the cougar plainly as he crossed a slight opening in the underbrush. He was gone again in a second, but the boys knew now beyond any doubt who their enemy was.
“We’ll be lucky if he leaves us alone until we get up the tree,” said Fred, voicing the thought that was in all their minds.
“We’ll have to chance that,” said Bobby. “I’ll be the last one to go up, and I’ll pass the clubs up to you.”
By this time they had reached the tree, still unmolested by the panther. Lee started up first, and then Fred. Bobby admitted afterward that he spent a nervous two minutes on the ground, waiting for them to get far enough up so that he could start. Every second he expected a lithe form to hurl itself upon him. In reality it was only a few seconds before Fred reached down for the clubs, for both he and Lee were climbing faster than they had ever done before in all their active lives. The boys passed the clubs from one to the other, two climbing while the other hung on and held them, and in this manner they quickly negotiated the twenty odd feet to the heavy branches. As they swung themselves into a broad fork they noticed for the first time that their fingers were torn and bleeding from contact with the rough bark, but they were too thankful at being there to worry about that.
“Gee!” exclaimed Bobby, drawing a long breath of relief as he peered downward in search of their foe, “I expected to feel that brute’s claws in my shoulder every second.”
“So did I,” said Fred. “If he’d attacked us while we were shinnying up, it would have been all over for us.”
“We’re a long way from being safe yet,” Lee reminded them. “That beast can climb a tree like a cat going over a fence, and he won’t leave us alone here, you can bet on that.”
“Well, let him come,” said Bobby, coolly, as he drew his jackknife and proceeded to whittle a handle on his club. “We’ve got a chance here anyway. I only hope he doesn’t try to starve us out. We can’t stay up here forever, if he decides to play a waiting game.”
“There he is!” shouted Lee, almost before Bobby had ceased speaking. And sure enough, the cougar, apparently deciding that he would no longer keep to cover, came bounding out into the little open space at the base of the tree. He glared upward with baleful eyes and paced quickly around the tree a few times, switching his long tail and growling ominously.
The boys gripped their clubs and braced themselves, expecting the brute to come climbing upward at any second. The cougar seemed in no hurry, however, but kept circling the tree, growling louder all the time and evidently working himself into a greater rage with every step.