He was more than puzzled.
Wild animals were not altogether unknown within the twenty-mile limit around Stanhope. A bear might be seen occasionally—or at least the tracks of one, for the timid beast knew enough to hide in the daytime in one of the numerous swamps.
But this did not seem large enough for a bear, which would have surely made a more bulky object clinging to the limb. Moreover, bears were not reckoned bold, and no hunter had ever known one to come spying around a camp. As soon as the trail of human beings is run across by a bear, the animal always takes the alarm and hastens to its den, to lie low until the danger has passed.
But Bobolink had mentioned the magic word "panther," and this caused the other aroused scout to look more closely at the dimly seen object Sure enough it did seem to be flattened out on the limb, much as Paul imagined a big cat might lie.
"What'd we better do about it, Paul—give a yell and jump up?" Bobolink asked, his voice quivering, perhaps with excitement, or it might be under stress of alarm; for it was not the nicest thing in the world to be lying there helpless with a hungry panther crouching above.
"Wait, and let's make sure," replied the careful Paul.
Some impetuous boys would have thought, the very first thing, of bringing that double-barrelled gun to bear on the dark, shadowy figure, and cutting loose, perhaps even firing both charges at once.
At such close range, less than thirty feet, a shell containing even bird shot is apt to be projected with all the destructive qualities of a large bullet. Paul knew all about this, and also had faith in the hard-hitting qualities of his long tested gun; but he was not the one to be tempted into any rash action.
"Be sure you're right; then go ahead," was a motto which Paul always tried to practice. He had certainly found it worth while on more than one occasion in the past, and it was likely to serve him well now.
And so he waited, ready for a sudden emergency, but not allowing himself to be hurried.