THE RETURN
Teddy Manley’s breath caught in his throat as he stood, his back to
the wall, arms outstretched, watching the mountain lion. The only
thing moving on that rocky plateau was the animal’s tail. While the
lion remained as firm and steady as a statue, its tail lashed back
and forth with grim significance. It seemed to Teddy that he could
not take his eyes off that waving tip.
Then from the lion’s throat came a low growl, like the first mutter
of distant thunder, telling of a coming storm. With the sound,
Teddy’s brain threw off the shackles of fear. Swift as thought, the
boy’s hand flashed down to the gun at his side. The blue barrel came
out and up in a draw that would have left old Pop Burns gaping in
envious amazement.
At the same instant the boy bent low and jumped to one side, holding
his gun before him, finger ready on the trigger. But the lion did
not spring. Instead, it whirled with the boy, and instantly was
again facing him, this time at a greater distance, Teddy having
backed away, once he was clear of the wall.
Thoughts were flashing through the boy’s brain like subtitles on a
moving picture screen. Should he shoot and risk having the animal
charge if he missed? Would it be better to wait and see if the lion
would depart of its own accord? Perhaps the brute was frightened.
Given time, it might turn tail and make off without attacking.
Still, where had it come from? If it had leaped down from above,
Teddy would surely have heard it. Why, it must have been here when
Teddy had fallen!
Still backing, the boy determined to let the lion decide the issue.
If it made off, very well. If it sprang--Teddy took in a bit more of
the trigger slack and raised the barrel just a trifle, so that it
pointed directly at the lion’s left eye. Ad least he would go under,
fighting.
Suddenly the tail stopped its restless lashing. Teddy saw the
shoulder muscles of the beast move like ropes in silken sheathes. He
knew the moment had come.
As the lion sprang, Teddy fired. In that small enclosure the roar of
the large automatic was deafening.
When the lion landed, not five feet from Teddy, it turned its head
and began biting savagely at its left flank. Teddy’s bullet had only
wounded the animal.
He fired again and jumped aside. The bullet hit the beast just below
the heart. Furious with pain, it whirled about and came at the boy.
Now a hot, almost unreasoning, rage took possession of Teddy.
“Come on, come on, you yellow coward!” he shouted wildly. “Fight!
Don’t lay down so soon! Fight, you sneak!”
Teddy’s abstinence from food, his chase after the thieves, and the
fall down the mountainside had snapped his restraint. He knew
nothing, except that he was facing an enemy--something he must kill.
With an abandonment of fury, he fired his remaining shots in the
direction of the lion, threw his gun from him, and started forward,
fists clenched, eyes burning with a feverish light.
“Now, you coward, we’re even!” he yelled. “Fight, if you’re not too
ornery. Let’s see what you’re made of! Come on! Think I’m afraid,
hey? I’ll show you! You yellow coward.”
The strange spectacle of an unarmed boy advancing toward him with
something white wrapped around his head and making furious noises
with his mouth, caused the lion to hesitate. But only for a moment.
Then he leaped forward to meet this presumptuous being, and teach
him respect for tearing claws and knife-like teeth.
Teddy braced himself for the shock. There was no thought of death in
his mind--only that he would soon be at grips with an enemy whom he
hated.
Through a red mist, the boy saw the roaring beast launch itself into
the air. He saw the lips drawn back in a snarl of rage. He saw the
forefeet close together, white, curving claws projecting from small
rubber-like pads. He saw the eyes gleam wickedly.
Teddy put up his hands to ward off that hurtling body, and at that
moment two sharp cracks came to his ears. He saw the lion’s body
twitch. Automatically he dodged, and the beast struck his shoulder,
dashing the boy to the ground. There was another crack, then
another. Teddy rose dazedly to his feet. He looked down. On the
rocky floor lay the lion--quivering, but stone dead.
From above there came a cry.
“We got him, Dad! Yay, Teddy! Are you all right? Teddy!”
Putting his hand to his head, the boy glanced up. What he saw caused
quick tears of emotion to come to his eyes. Staring down at him,
their faces alight with eagerness, stood his father and Roy.
“Dad! Roy!” Teddy cried weakly. He staggered to the wall and leaned
against it. There was a lump in his throat that choked him, and try
as he did, he could not keep the tears from starting to his eyes.
This would never do. What would they think of him? He shook his head
savagely and sunk his teeth into his lower lip. There, that helped!
He looked up again.
“You sure timed your entrance,” he called, grinning bravely. “Quite
a show!”
“Teddy, are you all right?” Mr. Manley shouted.
“Sure! Come on down. The water’s fine.” His head was spinning
around, and the red rim of the sun was stretched into a long line of
fire across the sky. To his surprise, the boy suddenly found himself
sitting down. He laughed at the absurdity of this change, but it was
a weak laugh.
Above him, Roy and Mr. Manley had seen the boy sway back and forth
for a moment, then fall to the ground. Swiftly Mr. Manley ran back
to where his pony was standing and detached a rope which hung from
the saddle horn. He tied one end around a tree, and dangling the
other end over the edge, he slid down, careless of the blistering
burns the strands inflicted on the palms of his hands. The moment he
hit bottom he ran to his son.
“Teddy! Teddy boy!” he stammered. “That was a close one! If Roy and
I had missed--” He hunched down and threw one arm about his son’s
shoulders. Even Mr. Manley’s eyes were not quite dry. He had just
seen his son escape from a horrible death.
“All right, Dad. I’m O. K. now,” Teddy said, resting one hand over
his father’s as it lay on his shoulder. “I’ll give you and Roy the
prize for marksmanship. You sure clipped the beast good!”
“Hey, Dad, I’m coming down!” Roy yelled from above. “Is Teddy hurt?”
“No!” Mr. Manley answered. “He’s not! You stay up there, Roy. Wait
for the rest! Yell at ’em!”
“I can get up now,” Teddy declared. To prove it he struggled to his
feet, and promptly sat down again.
“Golly, my legs are made of India-rubber!” he said, grinning. “What
do you know about that, Dad? Funny, hey?”
“Sure,” Mr. Manley assented, smiling broadly now. He knew from the
change in Teddy’s voice that the boy was gaining control of his
nerves and would soon be himself again. “Just take it easy, son.
Here!” he ran to the spring and dipped his hat in the water. “Drink
this. Slow!”
Teddy obeyed, and the merry-go-round on which the trees were riding
came gradually to a stop.
The boy got to his feet again, and this time he stayed there.
“Where’s my friend?” he asked, looking about. “Ah, there she is. A
beauty, hey, Dad?” he touched the dead mountain lion with his foot.
“Look at that hide! Say, do you think we can get her up out of here
and cart her along home?”
“Don’t see why not,” his father answered. “Golly, boy, do you know
you went for this lion with your bare hands? Went right at her!”
“Did I?” Teddy said indifferently. He kicked the carcass again.
“Must have been a little crazy, I guess. I didn’t know what it was
all about for a while.”
He walked over toward the spring. Suddenly he uttered an
exclamation.
“Well, for the love of Pete! Dad! Take a look at this! No wonder the
old lady wanted to fight. Can you beat this?”
Mr. Manley hurried to his son’s side and bent over. In a scooped-out
hollow of the wall, partly screened by bushes, he saw two little,
yellow kittens.
“Baby lions!” the ranch owner cried. “Say, Teddy, we’ve got to save
’em! We shot their mother, and now it’s up to us to help the babies
make a start in the world. We can--”
“Hey-y-y, Dad!” came from above. “Here are Pop and Gus and Nick!
Want me to come down?”
“No! You boys get ready to haul up!” Mr. Manley answered. “Teddy,”
he added, in a lower voice, “I want you to let them pull you up. Oh,
yes, I know you can climb it,” he said, interrupting his son’s
protest. “But, just for fun, let ’em pull you. They need the
exercise.”
He fastened the rope below Teddy’s armpits and yelled to those above
to hoist away. Up Teddy went. In a moment he was safe upon the
ledge. Then came Mr. Manley’s turn; and with two, tawny, squirming
kittens held against his chest he made the ascent as Teddy had done.
The last rays of the sun were sending a shower of gold over the
mountains as Roy’s hand clasped Teddy’s in a firm grip, that told,
louder than any words, what was in the heart of each. The two boys
were together again. Teddy had been saved from what had seemed
certain death.
It was too late to look further for the horse thieves, and Mr.
Manley gave the word to start for home. Evening was upon them, and
as the two brothers rode along through the gathering dusk, side by
side, talking in low tones, each had a small, warm kitten cuddled on
his saddle.