When they started, there was another volley of snarls from the beast in the tree, evidently laboring under the impression that this flank movement had some bearing on the safety of her precious offspring.
Steve kept his eyes turned in that quarter about as much as he used them to take notice of the way he was going. Every unusually loud snarl made him think the cat was about to launch herself toward them in an attack; so that the boy was kept worked up to fever heat all the time.
“She’s on the move, Jack!” he now hissed. “I saw her leap down to the ground and run along. Say, she’s keeping on a line with us, would you believe it?”
Jack took a look himself in order to be convinced.
68“You’re right there, Steve,” he said, with a short laugh. “After all our trying this little dodge may not be worth the candle.”
“She’s bent on keeping us from advancing, seems like,” complained Steve. “Why, the pesky thing acts like she had a mortgage on all that stretch of woods beyond here, and didn’t mean to let us foreclose on her either.”
“One thing sure, she isn’t afraid of two fellows like us,” chuckled Jack. “Even our clubs have no terror for the mother of the kitties. Why, if we dared push on ahead she’d jump at us like a flash.”
“I certainly feel cheap, being held up like this by an ordinary cat,” gritted the burly Steve between his teeth.
“When you’re up against an enraged wildcat mother,” Jack told him, “and without a sign of a gun to back you, that’s the time to spell prudence in big capital letters. They’ve got terrible claws, and can use them to tear a fellow’s clothes to ribbons, not to mention what they’ll do to your hide. No use talking, Steve, if the miserable beast is dead set on keeping us from going on we’ll have to own up beaten, and retire with our skins whole.”
“I’ve lost track of her for a minute, Jack. Wonder now if she’s gone back to her family, thinking we’ve been scared off.”