nough, no wild animal will have time to organise an
attack," said Ralph.

The wind was coming up, setting the dying leaves to scattering in all
directions. As the wind increased, the boughs of the trees swayed
violently over their heads.

Suddenly Dan, who was ahead, set up a shrill cry of alarm. He had seen
two eyes glaring down at him from the branches of a tree he was just
passing. He tried to pull back his mustang, and on the same instant a
huge puma, or, as he is commonly called in the southwest, a painter,
landed almost directly on his pony's neck.

The attack was a fierce one, and had it not been for a lucky accident
either Dan or his steed must have been killed within a few seconds, for
the puma is a heavy-built and powerful beast, and its bite, or a stroke
of its huge paw, is generally meant to be deadly.

But, as mentioned before, Dan held his gun over his saddle, and as the
painter came down the weapon went off, and the beast received the full
charge in the upper part of his left shoulder. The wound did not kill
him, or even seriously wound him, but it shocked and surprised the
beast so much that he fell back, and tumbled to the ground.

"Oh, Dan, look out!" shrieked Ralph, and pulled in his own steed. Then,
as his brother's mustang reared to one side, and the puma prepared to
make a second leap, he endeavoured to get a bead on the beast.

The puma had struck on his back. Now he had turned over and was
crouching down, like a cat getting ready to pounce upon a bird, his
bushy tail sweeping the grass with quick, nervous motion.

Bang! Ralph's gun spoke up just as the painter was in the act of
springing for Dan, and the shot took the beast in the stomach, making a
jagged and ugly wound. Again the beast dropped back, uttering a mingled
snarl of rage and pain. The snarl was exactly like that the boys had
previously heard, and they felt that this must be the beast that had
gotten into the fight with the wolves. Probably the wolves had gotten
away from him, and this and the taste of their blood had angered him
into making the present attack.

Both mustangs were now kicking and plunging, and the boys had all they
could do to keep their seats. The steeds backed away from the wounded
painter, and then Dan's mustang started to bolt. His course was under a
tree with low branches, and in a second the youth was brushed from his
back, and sent spinning to the ground.

Half stunned by his fall, Dan had yet sense en