“He’ll be at me if I go any nearer,” said Shaddy. “What do you say to trying, Mr Rob, sir?”
“I don’t think I would,” said the lad; and he stepped forward, with the result that the puma’s tone changed to a peculiar whining, remonstrant growl, as it shifted itself off the dead deer, but kept its teeth buried in its neck, and began to back away, dragging the body toward the spot from which it had made its bound.
“Let it be, Mr Rob, sir. The thing’s sure to be savage if you meddle with its food. We can do without it, and there’s no time to spare. Come along.”
There was a fierce growl as Shaddy went on, and Rob followed him; but on looking back he saw that the puma was following, dragging the little deer, and after a few steps it took a fresh hold, flung it over its back, followed them for a few minutes, and then disappeared.
They had enough to do to find their way now, for darkness was coming on fast, and before long Shaddy stopped short.
“It’s of no use, my lad,” he said. “I’m very sorry, but we’ve drove it too late. The more we try the farther we shall get in the wood.”
“What do you mean to do, then?” said Rob, wearily.
“Light a fire, and get some boughs together for a bed.”
“Oh, Shaddy, don’t you think we might reach camp if we went on?” cried Rob, despairingly.
“Well, we’ll try, Mr Rob, sir; but I’m afraid not. Now, if your friend there would be a good comrade and bring in our supper, we could roast it, and be all right here, but he won’t, so we’ll try to get along. We shall be no worse off farther on, only we may be cutting ourselves out more work when it’s day. Shall we try?”