“Wait a bit, Jud,” urged the other. “Don’t shoot without being dead sure. A wounded bobcat is nothing to be laughed at, and we may get some beauty scratches before we can finish him. Tell me where you’ve glimpsed the beast.”
“Look up to where I’m pointing with my gun, Paul, and you can see two yellow balls shining like phosphorus. Those are his eyes and if I aim right between them I’m bound to finish him.”
Jud had hardly said this when there came a loud hoot, and the sound of winnowing wings reached them. At the same time the glowing, yellow spots suddenly vanished. 159
“Wow! what do you think of that for a fake?” growled Jud in disgust. “It was only an old owl after all, staring down at us. But say, Paul! that screech didn’t come from him let me tell you; there’s a cat around here somewhere.”
As if to prove Jud spoke the truth there came just then another vicious snarl.
“Holy smoke! Paul, did you hear that?” ejaculated Jud, half turning. “Comes from behind us now, and I really believe there must be a pair of the creatures stalking us on the way home!”
“They usually hunt in couples,” affirmed Paul, not showing any signs of alarm, though he clutched the hatchet a little more firmly in his right hand, and turned his head quickly from side to side, as though desirous of covering all the territory possible.
“Would it pay us to move around in a half circle, and let them keep the old path?” asked Jud, who could stand for one wildcat, but drew the line at a wholesale supply.
“I don’t believe it would make any difference,” returned the scout-master. “If they’re bent on giving us trouble any sign of weakness on our part would only encourage them.”
“What shall we do then?”