all of something, he started off
almost at right angles to our trail, acting very much like a hound on an
old scent, but keeping up a pace that tried my endurance.

It was truly wonderful the way this man, in a trance-like state, was
guided by an invisible power over the most dangerous ground, but no one,
after a careful survey, could have selected a better trail than that
chosen by Big Pete. On and on we went, scrambling over rock-skirting
precipices and crumbling ledges. A dense fog settled around us, making
each step hazardous, but with an instinct as true and apparently
identical with that of our four-footed brothers, my guide kept the same
rapid pace for hours, and then, all of a sudden, came to an abrupt stop.

For several seconds he stood in his tracks, his body keeping the same
swaying motion, but after a short while he crept cautiously forward in
the fog, with me at his heels, and we found ourselves at the edge of a
giant fault, similar to the one in Darlinkel Park, but there was
apparently no pass to let us down the towering precipices to the valley
below.

"Well, that was a wonderful trip," I cried.

"Shut up!" shouted Pete savagely, but I had spoken and the spell was
broken; reason, not instinct, must now lead us.

Vapor and clouds concealed the low grounds from our view; however, we
were determined not to spend another night in the mountains, so while I
rested and regained my breath, Big Pete went on to explore the ledges.

Presently my guide hove in sight and motioned me to follow him; he led
me to a place where another goat trail went over the edge of the
precipice, this time not in ten and fifteen feet jumps, but by a steep
diagonal path. Down the treacherous trail we slipped and slid with a
wall of rocks on one side and death in the form of a bluish white space
on the other side.

As we were clambering carefully around the face of a big rock Pete
suddenly whispered that he smelt a "Painter," and upon peering around
the corner we found ourselves face to face with a large cat; the animal
was crouching upon a flat-topped projecting stone immediately in our
path. That it was not the puma of the low-lands, its reddish-colored
coat and great size proclaimed. It was a so-called mountain lion and a
grand specimen of its kind.

The cat's small head lay between its muscular forepaws, its hair adhered
closely to its body, its long tail was full and round and waved slowly
from side to side, while its eyes