“Then how can we do most good,—as half-starved, worn-out fellows, without an ounce of pluck between us, or well-fed, strong, and refreshed, ready to tramp any number of hours, and able to carry him if it came to the worst? Answer me that.”
“Come and light the fire, Shaddy,” said Rob, quietly.
“Ah!” ejaculated the old sailor, and he led the way to where the embers lay, warm still, and with plenty of dry wood about. Five minutes after the fire was blazing merrily and illumining the scene.
“Now,” cried Shaddy, “if your Tom would play fair, and let us have the hind-quarters of that deer, we might have it instead of the lizard. He’ll only eat the neck, I daresay. Shall we try him? I don’t think he’d show fight at you, sir.”
“Let’s try,” said Rob, quietly. “I don’t think I’m afraid of him now.”
“Not you, Mr Rob, sir,” said Shaddy; and they went together to where they had left the puma feasting upon the deer, but, to the surprise of both, there lay the carcass partly eaten about the throat and breast, and the puma had gone.
“He can’t have had enough yet,” growled Shaddy, dropping upon his knees, knife in hand; and, seizing hold of the deer, he drove his blade in just across the loins, separating the vertebrae at the first thrust, but started back directly, as a low and fierce growl came from the edge of the forest, where they could see a pair of fiery eyes lit up by the blaze they had left behind.
“I know,” cried Shaddy; “he was scared off by our fire, but he don’t want to lose his supper. What shall we do, Mr Rob? Two more cuts, and I could draw the hind-quarters away. I’ll try it.”
The puma was silent, and Shaddy slowly approached his hand, thrust in his knife, and made one bold cut which swept through the deer’s flank; but another growl arose, and there was a bound made by the puma—which, however, turned and crept slowly back to cover, where it stood watching them, with the fire again reflected in its eyes.
“He don’t mean mischief, Mr Rob, sir,” said Shaddy. “I’ll have another try. I may get through it this time.”