I breasted the current, and, to my joy,
found I was nearing the rock; striking out with the strength of despair
I reach the refuge--the waves dash me against its sides--I clutch at
the jagged ends that project out of the water, and by their aid clamber
out of the reach of immediate danger!

Finding myself safe, I look about me. The first object that attracts my
attention is the lithe form of my pursuer who is running up and down the
bank lashing his tail in fury, and occasionally breaking forth in the
most savage roars. In its yellow coat and cat-like movements I recognize
the dreaded cougar--the tiger of the western mountains--an animal that,
when once aroused, will not hesitate to attack man or beast. He seemed
to be deliberating whether to follow me into the stream. It was plain he
disliked entering the water, and after pacing to and fro for some little
time, turned abruptly and left the bank. Thinking I had achieved a
victory, and finding that now I was safe, my courage was assuming a very
bold front; I picked up a stone and threw it in the direction of the
beast. Foolish action! It hit the cougar, and turning, he now rushed to
the bank, and, bellowing with rage, plunged into the river. My position
now became critical in the extreme. Once the rock was gained, I would
certainly be mangled by the fierce creature. I could not take flight by
water, as he could easily overtake me.

My terror was extreme, and I lost the power of will. Fright had made me
imbecile, and I rushed about the crest of the rock like a crazy man. All
this time the enraged brute drew nearer; his paws touch the base of the
rock; he is in the act of drawing his dripping limbs out of the water.

Mouth open, tongue extended, and eyes inflamed with rage, the cougar
prepares for the deadly spring. But look! the surface of the rock moves,
gives way, and slides with a gentle motion towards the river. He makes a
desperate effort to free himself from this natural trap, but in vain;
the rock moves faster every moment, and with one grand rush this land
slide is engulfed in the turbid waters. Instantly the body is thrown
back into the seething flood, and my last view of him is as he turns a
bend and disappears forever.

After waiting several hours for the waters to subside, I am enabled to
wade to the opposite shore, and, discovering my own trail by accident,
wend my way back to the village.

My adventure is related to Wakometkla, and soon spreads throughou