CHAPTER XXIII

TRACKED BY A PANTHER

But in, the morning there was no sign of this midnight prowler, and with the rising sun the boys gave little thought to the weird sounds of the night before. They were up at the first break of dawn, somewhat sore and stiff from the effects of their hard bed, but still full of “pep” for anything the day might have to offer.

They had decided to follow in a general way the course that had taken them so far, that is, head in the general direction of home, but still keep away from the impassable low ground in the vicinity of the river. Bobby wanted Lee to take the lead, but the latter objected.

“I got us into a pretty bad mess the last time,” he said, “and you got us out again. So now, you’d better lead again.”

“Oh, it was mostly luck on my part,” Bobby replied. “How did I know we were going to hit on this island?”

“Your brand of luck is what we need, then,” said Lee. “Let’s hope it will hold out long enough to get us out of this swamp.”

“Well, I’ll do my best, then,” said Bobby, “but don’t blame me if I land you at the bottom of some nice mudhole.”

“I’ll take a chance on your getting through all right, and it will be more than luck that does it, too,” said Fred.

“Let’s go, then,” urged Bobby; and the three friends resumed their perilous journey.

They had by this time become so expert in choosing the best spots to step that they found their progress less arduous than they had expected. But now a new difficulty arose, for the sun became clouded over, and this left them at a loss as to direction, this having been their only guide so far.

Bobby grew more and more anxious as the haziness continued to increase, and at last called a halt on a bit of high ground that was a little harder than the surrounding bog.

“Looks as though we’re rather up against it now, fellows,” he said. “If we can’t see the sun, we won’t know what direction we’re going in, and chances are we’ll just be getting in deeper all the time instead of getting out.”

“But we can’t stay here,” objected Lee. “We’ve just got to keep going, and hope we’ll come out somewhere, anyway. We know we’re headed about right now, so why not try to keep on that way?”

Bobby shook his head doubtfully, but as there seemed to be no alternative, except to return to their island, he started on again. Indeed, he felt far from certain that he could find the island again, or he might have proposed going back to it.

Fortunately, the ground seemed to be getting somewhat firmer, but as they progressed the trees and undergrowth became so dense that they found increasing difficulty in making progress. Several times Bobby stopped and peered about uneasily among the trees, apparently in search of something which he could not locate.

“What’s the matter, Bobby?” asked Fred, at last, made uneasy by his friend’s uneasiness. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

“I may be wrong,” said Bobby, stopping again, “but I can’t help feeling as though we were being followed and watched by something. I thought I saw something in the underbrush just a little while ago, but it was gone so quickly that I couldn’t be sure.”

“What did it look like?” queried Lee, quickly.

“I’m not sure, as I say, that I saw anything,” said Bobby, “but it just seemed to me as though I saw a flash of light brown against a tree trunk, and then it disappeared so quickly that I thought I might be mistaken.”

“Light brown?” whispered Lee, with a frightened look in his eyes. “Bobby, that’s the color of a cougar, and you remember that cry we heard last night—”

His voice trailed off into silence, and the boys peered fearfully through the matted tangle of vines and underbrush. They could see nothing to confirm their fears, but suddenly a twig snapped not far from this, and they thought they could hear a stealthy rustling.

“What would we better do, Bobby?” asked Fred, anxiously. “If we only had a gun with us, we could soon take care of that fellow if he comes after us, but as it is—”

He had no need to finish the sentence, for his companions knew what he meant. Unarmed, with not even a knife among them, except, of course, their pocket knives, they would be no match for the savage beast that was stalking them. In all probability, as Lee told them, the panther would wait until toward dark, and then leap on them at the first opportunity.

“If that’s so,” said Bobby, who had been doing some quick thinking, “it seems to me as though we’d best pick out the place to fight it out instead of leaving it to Mr. Cougar.”

“Yes, but one place looks about as bad as another to me around here,” said Lee. “What’s your idea, Bobby?”

“I think we’d better get up a tree,” said Bobby, “then if he comes up after us, as he’ll probably do if we keep him waiting long enough, we’ll have a chance of beating him off with clubs. On the ground here there’s hardly room enough to move, and he’d have us at his mercy.”

Bobby had hardly finished speaking when they heard another stick snap, closer this time than before, and although still they could see nothing, they had little need of their eyes to tell them that the peril was close and imminent.

“There’s a big tree over there,” said Bobby, pointing to a towering giant that stood somewhat apart from the rest. “We’ll make for that, but take it easy, so it won’t look as though we were in a hurry.”

He started toward the tree indicated, pausing only long enough to pick up a stout section of a fallen branch that lay at his feet. Fred and Lee followed his example, and they made quietly for the tree, controlling an almost overpowering impulse to break into a run. They kept a wary lookout, and before they reached it, all three saw the cougar plainly as he crossed a slight opening in the underbrush. He was gone again in a second, but the boys knew now beyond any doubt who their enemy was.

“We’ll be lucky if he leaves us alone until we get up the tree,” said Fred, voicing the thought that was in all their minds.

“We’ll have to chance that,” said Bobby. “I’ll be the last one to go up, and I’ll pass the clubs up to you.”

By this time they had reached the tree, still unmolested by the panther. Lee started up first, and then Fred. Bobby admitted afterward that he spent a nervous two minutes on the ground, waiting for them to get far enough up so that he could start. Every second he expected a lithe form to hurl itself upon him. In reality it was only a few seconds before Fred reached down for the clubs, for both he and Lee were climbing faster than they had ever done before in all their active lives. The boys passed the clubs from one to the other, two climbing while the other hung on and held them, and in this manner they quickly negotiated the twenty odd feet to the heavy branches. As they swung themselves into a broad fork they noticed for the first time that their fingers were torn and bleeding from contact with the rough bark, but they were too thankful at being there to worry about that.

“Gee!” exclaimed Bobby, drawing a long breath of relief as he peered downward in search of their foe, “I expected to feel that brute’s claws in my shoulder every second.”

“So did I,” said Fred. “If he’d attacked us while we were shinnying up, it would have been all over for us.”

“We’re a long way from being safe yet,” Lee reminded them. “That beast can climb a tree like a cat going over a fence, and he won’t leave us alone here, you can bet on that.”

“Well, let him come,” said Bobby, coolly, as he drew his jackknife and proceeded to whittle a handle on his club. “We’ve got a chance here anyway. I only hope he doesn’t try to starve us out. We can’t stay up here forever, if he decides to play a waiting game.”

“There he is!” shouted Lee, almost before Bobby had ceased speaking. And sure enough, the cougar, apparently deciding that he would no longer keep to cover, came bounding out into the little open space at the base of the tree. He glared upward with baleful eyes and paced quickly around the tree a few times, switching his long tail and growling ominously.

The boys gripped their clubs and braced themselves, expecting the brute to come climbing upward at any second. The cougar seemed in no hurry, however, but kept circling the tree, growling louder all the time and evidently working himself into a greater rage with every step.

“Hold my club a minute, Fred,” exclaimed Bobby, suddenly. “I’ve got an idea,” and without further explanation, he set feverishly to work hacking off some of the smaller branches near him. Without exactly knowing what his plan was, Fred and Lee started cutting too, and between them they soon had quite an armful. Bobby then took all these branches, and with some fish line he drew from his pocket he proceeded to lash them to the tree just below the crotch in which they were perched.

“When, he comes, that will slow him down, and give us a chance at him,” explained Bobby.

“Fine,” exclaimed Fred and Lee together. “But look out, fellows!” Lee added, “he’s getting ready to climb!”

The panther, who had been watching these proceedings suspiciously, seemed suddenly to make up his mind, and with a vicious, spitting snarl leaped to the trunk of the tree and started up at a terrific pace. The boys gripped their clubs, and with wildly beating hearts awaited the onslaught of the ferocious animal.