"We penetrated the woods till a desirable spot was reached, and here Budd posted us on our stands. These are places clear of underbrush for a space, so that the hunter may see to shoot anything that invades his location. One man remains with the dogs, termed the driver. He was left about two miles behind. When all had been placed the signal was given, to start the dogs. Soon we could hear the music of their baying, as it did not take long for them to strike a deer trail, and a fresh one at that. The chase led in the Doctor's direction and presently we heard him shoot—and he had downed his first deer. He got two that day. I shot one, and Budd got a little fat doe. The others were fine bucks, weighing 175, 150 and 123 lbs. At least we thought so, after taking turns packing them, on a pole; and that was the only scale we had; so we think it was legal, under the circumstances.
"As we were returning to the boat with our four deer, two men to each, one man could be taking it easy all the time. Somehow the bunch got separated in the cypress swamp, and suddenly we heard the scream of a panther. Then there were a number of shots, and after that silence, for a couple of minutes. Then came a rifle shot. Jake and I being together, we hurried in the direction of the shots. Soon we heard a noise that we could not make out the cause of. We were still packing the deer. Then we came in sight of the Doctor, stooping over Budd's brother. Close by lay a dead panther. Budd's breast and arms were badly torn by the claws of the animal, and his brother had a scalp wound and was insensible. However, we all turned in to help, and he was soon on his feet, somewhat damaged and rather faint, but still in the ring.
"The panther had sprang on them from a tree, knocking Wylie down, then turning on Budd who attacked the animal as soon as he realized what was the trouble. The panther started for him like a cyclone and had his shirt and some skin jerked off in less time than it takes for me to tell it. Budd says he sure thought his time had come, and being somewhat of a church member he put up a little call for help. Just then the Doctor ran up, and by a lucky shot disabled the beast, which was soon dispatched. He got the hide. The panther weighed over 100 lbs. and measured 5 feet 10 inches from nose to tip of tail.
"As Budd and Wylie were too weak to carry the deer, the big cat was allotted to them, and two of us took each a deer till we got out of the timber, about dark. We reached the boat at 6 p. m., very tired. But we had had our fun, and some of us had had an experience not usual even to houseboat travelers. And we got the panther—though it came very near getting two of the best fellows to be found in the south."
Unfortunately the prize so highly valued was lost. The skin was stretched out and placed on the roof to dry; that night the wind blew, and next morning the skin had disappeared. The one now ornamenting the Doctor's den was purchased to replace the original.
Will some one explain how it happens that an indifferent shot, when brought in face of such a proposition will make an unerring snap shot, when a slight deviation would endanger the life of the companion? Many years ago, while traversing the woods of Pennsylvania, we heard our companion cry for help, after two shots close together. We ran at full speed, and saw him standing still, gazing at a huge snake at his feet. Even as we ran we brought our double-barrel to our shoulder and without taking aim blew the serpent's head off. There was no time to aim, and had we done so it is doubtful if we could have made as good a shot.