“Move right along and pay attention to our business,” replied Paul. “If we find that we’ve 160 got to fight, try to make sure of one cat when you fire. The second rascal we may have to tackle with hatchet and clubbed gun. Now walk ahead of me, so the light won’t dazzle your eyes when I swing the lantern.”
The two scouts moved along slowly, always on the alert. Paul kept the light going back and forth constantly, hoping that it might impress the bold bobcats with a sense of caution. Most wild animals are afraid of fire, and as a rule there is no better protection for the pedestrian when passing through the lonely woods than to have a blazing torch in his hand, with lusty lungs to shout occasionally.
“Hold on!” exclaimed Jud, after a short time had elapsed.
“What do you see now, another owl?” asked Paul, trying to make light of the situation, though truth to tell he felt a bit nervous.
“This isn’t any old owl, Paul,” asserted the boy with the gun. “Besides the glaring eyes, I can see his body on that limb we must pass under. Look yourself and tell me if that isn’t his tail twitching back and forth?”
“Just what it is, Jud. I’ve seen our tabby cat do that when crouching to spring on a sparrow. The beast is ready to jump as soon as we come within range. Are you covering him, Jud?” 161
“Dead center. Trust me to damage his hide for him. Shall I shoot?”
“Use only one barrel, mind, Jud. You may need the other later on. Now, if you’re all ready, let go!”
There was a loud bang as Jud pulled the trigger. Mingled with the report was a shrill scream of agony. Then something came flying through the air from an entirely different quarter.
“Look out! The second cat!” yelled Paul, striking savagely with his hatchet, which struck against a flying body, and hurled it backward in a heap.