“What shall I do?” thought Rob, who was now in an agony of perplexity, longing to call to his companions and yet in his confusion dreading to utter a word, for the fear was upon him that the moment the puma caught sight of Brazier it would fly at him. And again he mentally asked the question, “What shall I do?”
Meanwhile the puma had continued contentedly enough to lick its coat, sitting up on the narrow thwart at the end once more exactly like a cat, and in such a position that Rob felt how easy it would be to give the creature a sharp thrust and send it overboard, when it would be sure to swim ashore and relieve him of his perplexity.
While he was hesitating, the word “Oh!” was uttered close behind him, and looking sharply round, there was the wondering face of Joe thrust out between the canvas hangings, which he held tightly round his neck, being evidently too much startled to speak or move.
“It came on board, Joe, during the storm,” whispered Rob; “whatever shall we do?”
The lad made no answer for a few moments, and then in a hurried whisper—
“Call Mr Brazier to shoot it.”
This roused Rob.
“What for?” he said angrily; “the poor thing’s as tame as can be. Look!”
He took a step toward the great cat-like creature, and it ceased licking itself and leaned sideways as if to be caressed.
At that moment Joe popped back his head, and Brazier’s voice was heard:—