"What is it?" repeated Jack. "A panther?"
"No, sir; this animal will make two of the biggest panthers you ever saw. It is a lion!"
"In America?" said Jack, in astonishment.
"It is what the miners call them, anyway. When we get it into the bucket I will let you have the crank, and we will see if it does not weigh almost as much as you do. This animal is a mother, and her babies are crying for her."
Jack was surprised when he saw what a monster animal his lucky shot had put out of the way, for he did not lay any claim to his skill as a marksman in making that shot. He must have shot her plumb through the heart, or else she would not have died so quickly. She looked as big as a yearling, marked for all the world like the panthers he had seen in the shows which he had attended; but it was her size more than anything else which impressed him. It was wonderful, too, what a change the sight of this animal made in Jack. His courage all came back to him, and after taking a hasty glance at his trophy he took the lead and pressed on toward the farther end of the passage. Every few feet he found what the miners called "false diggings"—that is, places that they had dug, either on the right-hand side or the left, to see if the vein they were following turned that way. In one of these "false diggings" Jack stopped and pointed silently before him. Julian looked over Jack's shoulder, and saw that the miner had dug through the embankment there and into a cave which extended through into the gulch—the boys could see that by the little streaks of light which came in at the other end. On a slight shelf which formed one side of the passageway some leaves had been gathered, and in this bed were two cubs about the size of full-grown cats, while a third had crawled out and was trying, in his clumsy way, to follow his mother into the mine. The little thing was wild, and set up a furious spitting as the boys approached.
"These things account for the noise you heard," remarked Jack, picking up the cub and beating its head against the floor.
"What made you do that, Jack?" exclaimed Julian. "We ought to save the young ones alive."
"Well, suppose we do; what will we raise them on? It is true that we might tell the milkman to leave us an extra quart or two to feed them on, for such little things can't eat bacon and hard-tack. Now, after we get through—"
"By gracious, Jack—look out!" exclaimed Julian, suddenly. "The old man is coming home to see what's the matter with his young ones!"
Jack dropped the cub he had picked up, and which he was about to serve as he had the first, and, looking toward the farther end of the passageway, saw that the light was shut off by the head and shoulders of another monstrous lion that had stopped when he discovered the boys. In an instant two revolvers were aimed at the white spot on his chest.