CHAPTER XXI
A STRENUOUS NIGHT
Fortunately, Frank was a quick-witted boy.
He had his gun held in such a position that it required only a simple movement to swing it upward. To aim, under the conditions, was out of the question. He had to depend entirely upon guesswork, or what might be called intuition.
Imagine the astonishment of the others, crouching close by, when a flash of flame pierced the darkness, and the crash of Frank's gun was instantly followed by a fierce scream in which both pain and fury were mingled!
Frank had no sooner fired than he threw himself backward. Knowing something about the habits of these animals, he understood that the panther would make its leap, no matter how seriously it might be wounded.
Frank did not claim to be an acrobat, but he certainly made a record for himself in the line of back tumbling.
"Who shot?" shouted Jerry in amazement.
"Where's the bear?" came from Joe, equally amazed and confused.
Frank had by this time managed to scramble to his feet. He was somewhat scratched, and would perhaps feel a bit sore from his tremendous effort, but his heart beat high with anticipation when he realized that all was still in the quarter where he had been snugly lying.