“I’m bound to drag the creature all the way to the cabin, to show the boys,” announced the successful marksman. “Now don’t say anything against it, Paul. You see I’ll hold my gun under my arm ready, and at the first sign of trouble I’ll let go of the game and be ready to shoot.”
“That’s all right, Jud, you’re entitled to your trophy, though the skin is pretty well riddled with that big hole through it. Still, Tolly Tip may be able to cure it so as to make a mat for your den at home. Let’s be moving.”
They could still hear that low and ominous growling and snarling. Sometimes it came from one side, and then again switched around to the other, as the angry cat tried to find an avenue that would appear to be undefended.
Every step of the way home they felt they were being watched by a pair of fiery eyes. Not for a second did either of the boys dream of abating their vigilance, for the sagacity of the wildcat would enable him to know when to make the attack.
Indeed, several times Jud dropped his trailing burden and half raised his gun, as he imagined he 164 detected a suspicious movement somewhere close by. They proved to be false alarms, however, and nothing occurred on the way home to disturb them.
When not far from the cabin they heard loud voices, and caught the flicker of several blazing torches amidst the trees.
“It’s Tolly Tip and the boys,” announced Paul, as soon as he caught the sounds and saw the moving lights. “They must have heard the gunshot and our shouts, and are coming this way to find out what’s the trouble.”
A few minutes later they saw half a dozen hurrying figures approaching, several carrying guns. As the anxious ones discovered Paul and Jud they sent out a series of whoops which the returning scouts answered. And when those who had come from the cabin saw the dead bobcat, as well as listened to the story of the attack, they were loud in their praises of the valor of the adventurous pair.