“Sorry I haven’t any tablecloth and napkins to do the thing up brown,” ventured Toby, whereat a shout went up from the others, who violently declared that such things were taboo in the woods, and never see unless there were ladies in camp.
Of course it was only natural that Toby should be eager to learn of their adventures during the long day; but he knew nothing could induce them to talk until at least the raw edge of their clamorous appetites had been taken off; so he continued to ply them with more food.
80Jack, seeing the mute look of entreaty in Toby’s face finally took pity on him.
“Now, you’ll want to hear what sort of time we’ve met with, Toby,” he said; “and how we had to hand over the laurel wreath of victory to one old mother cat that somehow seemed averse to letting us go ahead.”
“A cat!” ejaculated Toby, and then he looked wise; “Guess you must mean a lynx, don’t you, Jack, and with whelps in the bargain. Whee!”
“No, this was a wildcat of the ordinary variety,” Jack told him. “A Canada lynx is an altogether different object, and has tasseled ears that make it look mighty queer. But Steve here will tell you why we didn’t dare tackle the old lady when she threw down the gauntlet.”
“I want to know!” cried Toby. “Tell me how it came about, Steve. I noticed that both of you seemed to be carrying pretty hefty clubs when you came in. So there are ferocious wild beasts at large up here in the Pontico Hills country?”
“Ferocious is hardly the word to describe that wildcat, I tell you, Toby,” said Steve. “Wow! how she did spit and snarl until a fellow’s blood ran cold. And when we glimpsed her yellow eyes they seemed to glow like phosphorous.”
So the story was told by degrees, Steve liking to linger when he reached the point where their progress was barred the second time by the audacious and persevering feline foe.
“Wasn’t it too bad you didn’t have the shotgun 81 along just then,” observed Toby, “because you’d have easily knocked that beast over, and ended its ugly career.”