The sharp report seemed to shatter the whole scene. Its echoes were mixed with the scattering of the horrified beavers as they rushed for the water––with the short screech of the lynx, as it bounced into the air and fell back on its side, dead––with an exclamation of astonishment from Jabe––and with a crashing of branches just behind the thicket. The Boy looked around, triumphant––to see that Jabe’s exclamation was not at all the result of his clever shot. The woodsman was on his hands and knees, his back turned, and staring at the form of a big black bear as it lumbered off in a panic through the bushes. Like the unfortunate lynx, the bear had been stalking the beavers on his own account, and had almost stepped upon the silent watchers in the thicket.
“IT WAS NO LONGER A LOG, BUT A BIG GRAY LYNX.”
CHAPTER V
Dam Repairing and Dam Building
AS the Boy trudged triumphantly back toward camp, over the crest of the moon-bright ridge, he carried the limp, furry body of the lynx slung by its hind legs over his shoulder. He felt that his prestige had gone up incalculably in the woodsman’s eyes. The woodsman was silent, however, as silent as the wilderness, till they descended the other slope and came in sight of the little solitary camp. Then he said: “That was a mighty slick shot of yourn, d’ye know it? Ye’re quicker’n chain lightnin’, an’ dead on!”