The guide was interrupted by a scream that was almost human in its quality.
“Ah! Now we shall see something worth while. Watch!” he warned.
What seemed to be a big ball of fur came hurtling from a tree, landing right among the coyotes. Then followed the maddest battle and the noisiest one that any member of the Overland party, with the possible exception of Ham White, had ever seen.
“See the big cat give it to them!” cried the guide.
“The—the cat!” stammered Emma.
“Yes. That’s a mountain lion, which, as a matter of fact, is not a lion at all.”
The girls were too thrilled with the scene before them to give heed to his words.
The battle was brief, but when the lion finally leaped away with a large chunk of meat in his jaws, three coyotes lay stretched out on the ground. Whether the lion had killed them, or whether their own fellows had done the deed, the eyes of the Overlanders had not been quick enough to perceive. Now that they were rid of their enemy, the coyotes returned to their savage feast.
“Say! You aren’t going to let those beasts eat up all our meat, are you?” demanded Stacy. “I want some of that meat myself.”
“Is there any danger to us, Mr. White?” questioned a voice in the guide’s ear.