“Gee, what’s that thing? A tiger, Jud?” gasped Tom, clutching his brother in sudden terror.
“Nope; maybe a catamount. Say, Jiminy, come to think of it, I guess we must have been asleep in its den,” spoke Jud.
“What’s to hinder his jumping over the fire and tackling us, Jud?” gasped Tom.
“Well, he won’t, not so long as we can keep it built up high. Come on; hurry, Tom. Get more spruce, quick,” and then both boys piled on more wood, and by the light they could still see the angry bobcat, who kept his position right opposite them, its green eyes glittering angrily, occasionally uttering its long, uncanny yell, which echoed back from the dark mountain and sounded like a dozen bobcats yelling in concert.
“Oh, just hear him yell; he’d jump straight on us, only for the fire. Say, we can’t pick up much more wood round here,” announced Jud, finally. “We can’t climb up above either, on account of the rocky roof, and if we go down below he’ll sure jump straight on us. What’ll we do, I wonder?”
“Oh, say, Jud, what can we do, anyhow?” gasped Tom.
“We’ll have to climb down an’ risk his jumping, I guess. I’ll go, Tom. I ain’t afraid, much,” spoke Jud, bravely.
Jud threw the last armful of dry spruce upon the fire, and was just about to climb down the ledge pluckily after more, when both boys heard a far-off, whimpering yell, which came through the woods from somewhere.
“Say, what’s that, Jud? Another one of them things, do you think?” asked Tom, anxiously.
“Sounds mighty like one, but then it’s a long ways off, down below somewhere.”