the vicinity of the table-land above, with its herds of
deer, might account for this one. There he was now, at all events,
preparing to take possession of the game on the top of that bowlder
without asking leave of anybody.

"Quick, Steve! Forward, while he's got his eyes on the antelope. We
may get a shot at him."

Almost recklessly they darted down the canyon, slipping swiftly along
from bowlder to bowlder, but before they had covered half the distance
the panther made his spring.

He made it magnificently. He had scented the blood of that antelope
from far away, and he may have suspected that it was not a living one,
but his instincts had forbidden him to approach it otherwise than with
caution. He would not have been a cougar if he had not made a spring
in seizing upon his prey.

They are nothing in the world but giant cats, after all, and they catch
their game precisely as our house-cats catch their mice. If anybody
wants to know how even a lion or a tiger does his hunting, "puss in the
corner" can teach him all about it.

"He will tear it all to pieces!"

"No, he won't, Steve. We can get a bead on him from behind that rock
yonder. He'll be too busy to be looking out for us for a minute or so."

That was true, and it was a bad thing for the great "cat of the
mountains" that it was so, for the two hunters got within a hundred
yards of him before he had done smelling of the big-horn, in which he
had buried his sharp, terrible claws.

"Now, Steve, I won't miss my shot this time. See that you don't."

Steve took even too much care with his aim, and Murray fired first.

He did not miss; but a cougar is not like a deer, and it takes a good
deal more to kill him. Murray's bullet struck a vital part, and the
fierce beast sprung from the bowlder with a ferocious growl of sudden
pain and anger.

"I hit him! Quick, Steve!"

The panther was crouching on the gravel at the bottom of the ravine,
and searching with furious eyes for the enemies who had wounded him.

The report of Steve's rifle rung through the chasm.

"I aimed at his head--"

"And you only cut off one of his ears. Here he comes. I'm ready.
What a good thing a repeating-rifle is!"

It was well for them, indeed, that they did not have to stop and load
just then. It did not seem any time at all before the dangerous beast
was crouching for another spring within twenty feet of them.

It would not do to miss this time, but neither Stev