But Tish was firm in her kindly intent, and
proceeded at once to set a rabbit snare, a trick she had learned in the
Maine woods. Having done this, and built a small fire, well hidden, we
sat down to wait.

In a short time we heard terrible human cries proceeding from the snare,
and, hurrying thither, found in it a young mountain lion. It looked
dangerous, and was biting in every direction. I admit that I was
prepared to leave in haste, but not so Tish. She fetched her umbrella,
without which she never travels, and while the animal set its jaws in
it--a painful necessity, as it was her best umbrella--Tish hit it on the
head--not the umbrella, but the lion--with a large stone.

Tish's satisfaction was unbounded. She stated that the flesh of the
mountain lion was much like veal, and so indeed it proved. We made a
nourishing soup of it, with potatoes and a can of macedoine vegetables,
and within an hour and a half we had dined luxuriously, adding to our
repast what remained of the sandwiches, and a tinned plum pudding of
English make, very nutritious and delicious.

For twenty minutes after the meal we all stood. Tish insists on this, as
aiding digestion. Then we prepared for the night's work.

I believe that our conduct requires no defense. But it may be well again
to explain our position. These people, whose camp-fire glowed so
brazenly against the opposite cliff, had for purely mercenary motives
committed a cruel hoax. They had posed as bandits, and as bandits they
deserved to be treated. They had held up our own clergyman, of a nervous
temperament, on a mountain pass, and had taken from him a part of his
stipend. It was heartless. It was barbarous. It was cruel.

My own courage came back with the hot food, which I followed by a
charcoal tablet. And the difference in Aggie was marked. Possibly some
of the courage of the mountain lion, that bravest of wild creatures, had
communicated itself to her through the homely medicine of digestion.

"I can hardly wait to get after them," she said.

However, it was still too early for them to have settled for the night.
We sat down, having extinguished our fire, and I was just dozing off
when Tish remembered the young man who was to have listened for the
police whistle.

"I absolutely forgot him," she said regretfully. "I suppose he is
hanging round the foot of Piegan's Pass yet. I'm sorry to have him miss
this. I shall tell him, when I see him, that no girl worth having wou