By instinct, rather than reason, I bent forward, and the creature passed over my head, striking directly against the foot of a sapling that stood in the way. My friend had seen the whole manœuvre, and was ready, with his uplifted cane, to give him battle. Though stunned, the creature turned upon me, but he received from Matthew a rap over the skull that made him reel. At the same time my friend caught hold of his long tail, and drew him back, for he was at the instant about to fix his fangs upon me. Thus insulted, the enraged brute turned upon his enemy behind; but Mat held on to the tail with one hand, and pummelled him with the other. At the same time, in order to secure his advantage and keep off the teeth and claws of the monster, he gave him a whirling motion. So, round and round they went, the cudgel flying like a flail, and the beast leaping, scratching, and howling, till the woods echoed with the sound. There was an odd mixture of sublimity and fun in the affair, that even then, in the moment of peril, I could not fail to feel. Mat’s hat had flown off, his hair streamed in the wind, and his glaring eyeballs watching every twist and turn of his enemy; his cane went rapidly up and down; and all the while he was twitched and jerked about in a circle, by the struggles of the beast.
This passed in the space of a few seconds, and I had hardly time to recover my self-possession, before Matthew and the monster were both getting out of breath. I thought it was now time for me to join in the fight, and, approaching the beast, I laid my cane, with the full weight of both hands, over his head. It was a lucky blow, for he instantly staggered and fell upon the ground. Matthew let go his hold, and there lay the beast prostrate before us!
“Better late than never!” said Matthew, puffing like a porpoise. “Better late than never. Whew! I’m as hot as a flap-jack on a griddle,—whew! The unmannerly beast!—whew! So! this is the way of the woods, is it?—whew! You pretend to be a child in distress—whew! and then you expect to make a supper of us!—whew! The infarnal hyppecrite!—whew!
“Well, what sort of a beast do you call it?” said I.
“Why,” said my friend, “it’s a catamount, or a wild-cat, or a panther—the varmint! It’s just like all other scamps; it’s got a long parcel of names; in one place it goes by one name, and in another place it goes by another. But it’s the most rebellious critter that ever I met with! He came plaguy nigh givin’ your hair a combing.”
“That he did,” said I; “and if you hadn’t been here to comb his, I should have had a hard time of it.”
“Like as not—like as not,” was the reply. “But, arter all,” said Matthew, looking at the panther, now lying outstretched upon the ground, and bearing all the marks of great agility and power, “arter all, it’s a pity that such a fine fellow hadn’t better manners. It’s one of God’s critters, and I expect that he loved life as well as his betters. He’s a noble brute—though I can’t commend his tricks upon travellers. Poor beast! I’m sorry for you; howsomdever, accidents will happen: it’s all luck and chance; it might have been Bob, or it might have been me. Well, it can’t be helped—what’s done is done.”
Matthew having settled the matter in this speech, we left the place, and at a little distance, beneath the partial shelter of a rock, we struck up a fire and made preparations for our repose, for it was already night.
