The result was that as he rose the puma leaped up, bounded round him, and then followed close up to the fire, but met all Shaddy’s advances with a low growl and a laying down of its ears flat upon its head.
“All right,” said Shaddy, “I don’t want to be friends if you don’t, puss; only let’s have a—what-you-may-call-it?”
“Truce,” suggested Rob.
“That’s it, sir. I won’t show fight if he won’t. Now then, sir, let’s make up the fire; and then—bed.”
Shaddy quickly piled up a quantity of wood on the embers, beating and smothering it down, so that they might have it as a protection against enemies and as a ready friend in the morning. Then, shouldering the portion left of the deer, he led the way to the rough hut, hung the meat high up in a tree and crept in, Rob following and wondering whether the puma would stop near them.
But the animal hung back as Rob followed his companion into the dark triangular-shaped space, where, after a short time devoted to meditation, he threw himself upon his bed of leaves to lie and think of his two lost companions.
At least, that was his intention, but the moment Rob rose in the darkness from his knees and lay down with a restful sigh, he dropped into a deep dreamless sleep, from which he half awoke once to stretch out his hand and feel it rest upon something furry and warm, which he dimly made out to be the curled-up body of the puma. Then he slept again till broad daylight showed in through the end of the bough, but half shut away by the figure of the guide, who said roughly:
“Now you two: time to get up.”
At that moment Rob’s hand rested upon a round, soft head, which began to move, and commenced a vibratory movement as a deep humming purr filled the place.