I turned deathly sick with horror as I drew out my handkerchief and gave it to him; and then I felt ashamed of myself, for Pete burst out laughing.
“He aren’t touched your neck, Master Nat,” he cried, “on’y got hold of the collar of your jacket and chawed it a bit. I say, who’d ha’ thought an old straw hat was better than a gun!”
“Can we get some water?” I said hoarsely.
“Yes, there’s some trickles down into a bit of a pool yonder, where I found my hat. Come on.”
A few minutes later I was bathing my hands and face, after we had lain down and drunk heartily of the sweet, cool, clear water, to rise up refreshed, and as the puma had disappeared, feeling as if the danger through which we had passed was very far away.
“How d’yer feel now, Master Nat?” asked Pete.
“Oh, better; much better,” I said quickly.
“Good job he didn’t begin eating of you, ain’t it, sir?”
“Yes, Pete, a very good job,” I said heartily.
“Then let’s go on and shoot some more of them yaller birds.”