"It's a lynx," said Russ, as he looked at the dead beast. "I can tell by those queer little tufts of hair on the ears."
"Are they dangerous?" asked Alice.
"Oh, I guess so, if you had one cornered. They can keep a fellow awake, anyhow, that's one sure thing. I must have fired better than I knew. But then the shot scattered so."
"He must have been pretty close to us," remarked Paul.
"Ugh! I don't like to think of it," murmured Alice, with a little shiver. "Suppose he had jumped into the boat?"
"Don't suppose," laughed Russ.
"Come!" called Mrs. Maguire from where she had remained near the boat with Ruth. "If we're going, we'd better start."
"That's right," agreed Russ. "The sooner we start the quicker we'll get there."
The blankets and cushions were arranged in the craft to make comfortable places for the girls and Mrs. Maguire, and then the remains of the food, and the coffee outfit, having been stowed away, Paul and Russ took the oars, and once more the refugees were under way.
As nearly as possible, allowing for the twists and turns of the stream, the course was in the direction Russ and Paul had agreed upon as being the best. From time to time, as they rowed on, they paused to listen for any hails which would probably be given by the searching party from the steamer.