less my eyes deceived me, which
they seldom do, it was a cat!"

"You mean a wildcat, don't you, Toby?" whispered Landy, for the two
boats were close enough together for the occupants to have shaken
hands, had they wanted to.

"Just what I meant," repeated Toby, firmly. "I can't say that I see
him now, for he's somewhere up in the thickest part of the bushy tree;
but it must have been something more than a 'coon, because I actually
saw the blaze of its eyes!"

"Whew!" gasped Landy, looking as though he wanted to drop the push-pole
on the spur of the moment; "get your gun, Lil Artha, why don't you?
Mean to let a feller be jumped on, and clawed something awful, do you?
I give you my word that if I see a wildcat comin' for me, I'll jump
overboard, and let him tackle the rest of you in the boat, that's what.
Get your gun, Lil Artha; they're vicious you must know, specially when
they've got kits around."

"We haven't lost any cat!" remarked Lil Artha, composedly, as though he
really took a cruel satisfaction in seeing Landy shiver; "and, besides,
I don't more'n half believe the fairy story. Toby's got to show me
before I own up. I reckon some of my people must have come from
Missouri."

"Yes, they raise a heap of mules there, I understand," remarked Toby,
with considerable sarcasm; "but I'm glad to see that Elmer has thought
it worth while to lay hold of his scatter-gun, so as to be ready.
Course we don't want any trouble with any old cat; but there's such a
thing as armed peace. If she jumps for us, I hope Elmer will give her
a load before she lands, that's all. We've got to pass pretty much
under some part of that tree, understand?"

Acting on Elmer's initiative, Lil Artha now also picked up his gun, and
started to keep a sharp watch. As Toby had truly said, they could not
really continue on their way without passing under the wide-stretching
branches of the tree where he claimed to have seen "something that
looked like a wildcat."

"Get busy there, Landy, use your pole, and push us along. Don't stand
there just like you were frozen stiff; we won't let any cat grab you,
make up your mind to it. Get a move on you, I say, Landy Smith."

"Oh! well, might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb, I reckon,"
muttered the fat scout as he started to make use of his push-pole.

For the time being, caution was thrown to the winds; all Landy
considered was the rapidity with which he could get past that ominous
tree