“That’s right,” Jimmie returned.
“And we’ll have to shoot together,” Peter went on.
“Is your hand steady?” asked Jimmie.
“As a rock,” was the reply. “Good-bye to little old New York if it wasn’t. Funny notion that a jaguar should be trying to eat a Wolf and a Black Bear.”
“And a baby Wolf, too,” added Jimmie. “My beast is coming on, bound to investigate this tree. When he gets so close that he can spring I’ll give the word, and we’ll shoot together.”
The cat approached slowly. At first it did not seem to catch the scent of prey in the neighborhood of the tree. It came on with cautious steps, crouching low, as if ready to leap.
Then the female caught sight and scent of the boys and uttered a low cry of warning which the male appeared to understand, for in a second its ears were laid down on its neck and the belly touched the ground.
“When you shoot keep the lead going,” advised Jimmy. “Now!”
Again, in that splendid tropical scene, there was a puff of smoke, one, two, three, four. Again the odor of burned powder attacked the nostrils and clouded the heavy air. Again there was a great floundering in the thicket.
The boys stood waiting for the snarling impact, but none came.