Ralph’s attention had been distracted from her by the death agonies of the male cougar. Jim’s warning shout recalled the boy to himself.
He fired once more, but this time he did not inflict a mortal wound. Instead, his bullet pierced the lion’s shoulder. Apparently she did not care for any more of that sort of punishment, for with a yelp and a howl she turned and dashed off, leaving her mate stark in death on the ground in front of the cave.
Ralph, white and shaking, now that it was all over, reeled for a minute and then leaned against the rock to recover himself a little.
“Bravely done, lad!” came a voice from above.
It was Jim, but Ralph felt almost too weak from the ordeal he had just passed through to answer.
“The rifle just seemed to go off by itself,” he stammered. “I was so scared I couldn’t see anything plainly.”
“Never mind that. You did the trick, and that’s what counts. Wish you’d got both of ’em, though. That lioness wasn’t badly hurt and she’ll be back for her young ones before long.”
“Well, she can’t get into the cave,” said Ralph with a rather shaky laugh, “any more than you can get out,” he added ruefully.
“That’s so. I declare for a minute I’d forgotten all about our fix. Say, but those lions served us one good turn when they drove off those Bloods. The fellows were ugly and meant trouble.”