a moment the young inventor felt a cold chill run down his
spine, and, while his hair did not actually "stand up" there was a
queer sensation on his scalp as if the hairs WANTED to stand on end,
but couldn't quite manage it.
Involuntarily Tom started, and one of the sticks he held in his hand
dropped to the ground. The green eyes shifted--they came nearer, and
the lad heard a menacing growl. Then he knew it was some wild animal
that had dropped down from a tree and was now confronting him, ready
to spring on the instant.
Tom hardly knew what to do. He realized that if he moved it might
precipitate an attack on him, and he found himself dimly wondering,
as he stood there, what sort of an animal it was.
He had about come to the conclusion that it was something between a
cougar and a mountain lion, and the next thought that came to him
was a wonder whether any one else in the camp was awake, and would
come to his rescue.
He half turned his head to look, when again there came that menacing
growl, and the animal came a step nearer. Evidently every movement
Tom made aroused the beast's antagonism, and made him more eager to
come to the attack.
"I've got to keep my eyes on him," mused the lad. "I wonder if
there's any truth in the old stories that you can subdue a wild
beast with your eyes--by glaring at him. But whether that's so or
not, I've got to do it--keep looking him in the face, for that's all
I can do."
True, Tom held in his hand some light sticks, but if it came to a
fight they would be useless. His gun was back in the tent, and as
far as he could learn by listening there was not another soul in the
camp awake.
Suddenly the fire, which had almost died out, flared up, as a dying
blaze sometimes will, and in the bright glare the young inventor was
able to see what sort of beast confronted him. He saw the tawny,
yellow body, the twitching tail, the glaring eyes and the cruel
teeth all too plainly, and he made up his mind that it was some
species of the cougar family. Then the embers flared out and it was
darker than before. But it was not so dark but what Tom could still
see the glaring eyes.
"I've got to get away from him--scare him--or shoot him," the lad
decided on the instant. "I'd like to bowl him over with a bullet,
but how can I get my gun?"
He thought rapidly. The gun was in the tent back of him, near where
he had been sleeping. It was fully loaded.
"I've got to get it," reflected Tom, a
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