I saw not the couguar’s face—hideous sight at such a moment—nor yet his eyes. Both were turned from me, and fixed steadfastly upon his intended victim. The fierce beast did not perceive my approach—perhaps a fortunate circumstance. Once or twice I saw him pause, as if crouching for a spring. Luckily, the old horse, making a fresh retrogression, caused the couguar again to advance along the log, in the same creeping attitude as before. With a glance, I had comprehended the situation: indeed, at the first glance I understood it perfectly. My delay in acting only arose from the necessity of preparing for action; and that did not take long.
It was habitual with me to carry my rifle over my shoulder, or rested across the pommel of my saddle: in either case, always in hand. It was but the work of a moment to get the piece ready. The pressure of the muzzle against my horse’s ear, was a signal well understood; and at once rendered him as immobile as if made of bronze. Many years of practice—during which I had often aimed at higher game—had steeled my nerves and straightened my sight. Both proved sufficiently true for the destruction of the couguar. Quick after the crack, I saw his red body roll back from the log; and, when the smoke thinned off, I could see the animal writhing upon the ground. Why the couguar had fallen to my side, I could not tell: for he was fairly on the ridge of the dead-wood when I fired. Perhaps, on receiving the shot, he had fancied that it came from the only enemy visible to him; and, by an instinct impelling him to escape, had tumbled off in the opposite direction. I perceived that he was not yet dead. He was still wriggling about among the branches; but it was clear that the piece of lead had taken the “spring” out of him. The bullet had passed through his spine, crashing the column in twain. After playing upon him with my revolving pistol, until I had emptied three or four of its chambers, I had the satisfaction of seeing him give his last spasmodic “kick.”
What followed, I leave to the imagination of my reader. Suffice it to say, that the incident proved my friend. The ice of indifference was broken; and I was rewarded for my sleight-of-hand prowess by something more than smiles—by words of praise that rang melodiously in my ear—words of gratitude spoken with the free innocent naïvété of childhood—revealing, on the part of her who gave utterance to them, a truly grateful heart.
I rode back with my fair protégée across the track of fallen timber—I could have gone with her to the end of the world! The tortuous path hindered me from holding much converse with her: only, now and then, was there opportunity for a word. I remember little of what was said—on my side, no doubt, much that was commonplace; but even her observations I can recall but confusedly. The power of love was upon me, alike absorbing both soul and sense—engrossing every thought in the contemplation of the divine creature by my side I cared not to talk—enough for me to look and listen.
I did not think of questioning her as to whence she had come. Even her name was neither asked nor ascertained! Whither she was going was revealed only by the accident of conversation. She was on her way to visit some one who lived on the other side of the creek—some friend of her father. Would that I could have claimed to be her father’s friend—his relative—his son!
We reached a ford: it was the crossing-place. The house, for which her visit was designed, stood not far off, on the other side; and I must needs leave her. Emboldened by what had passed, I caught hold of that little hand. It was a rare liberty; but I was no longer master of myself. There was no resistance; but I could perceive that the tiny fingers trembled at my touch.
The old horse, with provoking impatience, plunged into the stream; and we were parted. I watched her while crossing the creek. The crystal drops sparkled like pearls upon her naked feet. Some of them, dashed higher by the hoofs of the horse, were sprinkled upon her cheek, and clung to the carmined skin as if kissing it! I envied those diamond drops!
Lingering upon the bank, I gazed upon her receding form—with my eyes, followed it through the forest aisle; and then, saw it only at intervals—moving like some bright meteor among the trees—until by a sudden turning in the path, it was taken from my sight.