“Stand perfectly still, Jud,” cried Paul, hastily, fearful that his impulsive companion might be tempted to do something careless.
“But if he starts to jump at us I ought to try to riddle him, Paul, don’t you think?” pleaded the other, as he drew both hammers of his gun back.
Paul carried a camp hatchet, which he had made use of to fashion the approach to the trap. This he drew back menacingly, while gripping the lantern in his left hand.
“Of course, you can, if it comes to a fight, Jud,” he answered, “but the cat may not mean to attack us after all. They’re most vicious when they have young kits near by, and this isn’t the time of year for that.”
“Huh! Tolly Tip told me there was an unusual lot of these fellows around here this season, and mighty bold at that,” Jud remarked, drily, as he searched the vicinity for some sign of a creeping form at which he could fire. 158
“Yes, I suppose the early coming of winter has made them extra hungry,” admitted the scout-master; “though there seems to be plenty of game for them to catch in the way of rabbits, partridges and gray squirrels.”
“Well, do we go on again, Paul, or are you thinking of camping here for the rest of the night?” demanded Jud, impatiently.
“Oh! we’ll keep moving toward the home camp,” Jud was informed. “But watch out every second of the time. That chap may be lying in a crotch of a tree, meaning to drop down on us.”
A minute later, as they were moving slowly and cautiously along, Jud gave utterance to a low hiss.
“I see the rascal, Paul!” he said excitedly.