Then, for the first time, he dared to open his eyes, though he did not venture to move his head or hand a particle.
He could see the sleeping jaguar’s head and that was all that was in sight of the creature, that still remained motionless but likely to start up at his first movement.
As Jack’s gaze followed his narrow orbit of vision he soon saw his firearm, which had slipped from him in his ride over the precipice and fallen near where he lay in that terrible situation.
He had no sooner seen the weapon than a wild desire to get possession of it filled his mind. If he only had that in his hands he believed he could shoot the jaguar before it could do him harm.
The longer he pondered upon this the stronger became the desire to make the attempt. Failure could not be any worse than that awful suspense, which in all probability must end in death.
Then, as he realized that the jaguar’s mate might return at any moment, he resolved to make the bold venture without more delay.
He was first careful to make himself sure that the brute was still asleep, when he slowly and cautiously raised his hand enough to reach for the carbine, which fortunately lay stock toward him.
Not a sound broke the deathlike stillness of the lonely scene, save the labored breathing of the sleeping jaguar.
Never allowing his gaze to leave the creature, he continued to reach for the firearm until he felt his hand touch the stock.
As complete control as he had maintained over himself so far in the trying ordeal, at this critical moment he so far forgot himself as to draw a long breath--a breath of relief to think that he had something with which to defend himself.