"The dogs?"
"Certainly. That is one of the dogs up there. Probably Mustard," said the guide.
"What's that? Dogs climb trees?" demanded Chunky, laughing uproariously.
"Keep still! Do you want to spoil our fun?" growled Ned.
"The idea! Dogs climb trees!" And Chunky Brown went off into a paroxysm of silent mirth, his rotund body convulsed with merriment.
"Mustard can climb a tree as well as you can, if not better," answered
Lige sharply. "Use your eyes, and you will see for yourself. That is
one of the dogs that you see in the tree there—not a cougar. Ah!
There goes the other one!" he cried, pointing with his rifle.
And, sure enough, it was.
"It's Ginger!" exclaimed Walter in amazement.
The hound was creeping cautiously up the sloping trunk of the spreading tree, following in the wake of his companion, whose presence in the tree was indicated only by the movement of the slender limbs which he fastened upon to keep from losing his balance.
"What are they after?" asked Ned. "Perhaps a cougar. I can't tell, yet," replied the guide, keeping his eye fixed on the tree.