THE LAST OF THE CATAMOUNT.
Before the boys, at a distance of barely twelve feet, crouched the huge
catamount, screeching with fury and hunger.
Bitterly, in that awful moment, did they repent the folly of venturing
forth unarmed.
Brick and Hamp grabbed each other, and stared wildly about as though
they expected a way of escape to open before their eyes.
Jerry was two feet in front of his companions, and when he saw that the
hungry beast was about to spring, he uttered a terrific yell, and nearly
let the lantern drop from his nerveless fingers.
The cry was wrung from his lips by sheer fright, but it served a good
and unexpected purpose. The catamount was disturbed by the shrill echoes
of a human voice. He turned tail instantly, and bolted several yards
down the tunnel. Then he wheeled around again, and squatted low. His
fiery eyes glared at his intended victims, and his long tail smacked
the snow. He wailed several times in a whining key.
The boys were too badly scared to realize or to follow up their
advantage. For the moment they were without wits or presence of mind.
"Run!" yelled Jerry; "run for the cabin!"
Running was out of the question, but the boys did the next best thing.
Turning around, they fled up the passage on all fours, momentarily
expecting to feel the claws of their enemy. Six arms and six legs
revolved wildly. Jerry held grimly to the lantern, and it's friendly
light showed the way.
But ere the lads were half the distance to the storehouse, the hungry
beast was bounding after them, screeching hideously at every jump.
In sheer desperation Jerry wheeled around, and saw the ugly head almost
within reach of his arms. Terror prompted him to try a last device. He
lifted the lantern and let it drive with all his might.
It struck the catamount on the foreshoulders, bounced off and rolled in
the snow. There was a sudden puff, an explosion and a dash of burning
oil in all directions. Then a series of hisses, and utter darkness.
On went the boys, groping blindly from side to side. The angle at the
storehouse bothered them, and they fell together in a confused heap.
Somehow or other they got disentangled, and by pure luck Hamp and Jerry
hit the tunnel and made good time toward the next curve.
Brick was not so fortunate. He went head first into the storehouse, and
only discovered the mistake when his arms struck the rocky sides of the
cavity.
There was no time to retreat, for he heard, close by, an angry snarl
from the catamount. With almost the swiftness of a lightning-flash he
remembered that there was a smaller cavity beyond the storehouse
proper. Could he squeeze into it?
He did not stop to consider, but plunged forward at once. He found the
hole, and in a trice his arms and head were through. The rest was a
tight fit, but he kicked and scrambled, paying no heed to bruises or
lacerations. At last his legs were free, and he dropped down between the
rocks.
There was barely room enough for him to squat in an upright position,
and even then his head scraped a sharp point of rock. But surely the
catamount could squeeze after him.
He shouted hoarsely as he heard a sniffing, whining noise close by,
followed by a blood-curdling screech. He believed that his companions
had fled and left him to his fate. He had matches in his pocket, and
almost unconsciously he drew one out and struck it.
It was well that he did so. The catamount had already gained the larger
cavity beyond. His wicked head, with its flattened ears, was just
gliding into the crevice that led to Brick's retreat. The lad uttered
yell after yell, and the brute paused. A moment later he retreated to
the outer mouth of the storehouse, for Brick had ignited his
handkerchief, and tossed the flaming mass forward.
The blaze showed Brick a slab of loose rock lying at his feet. He
snatched it up, and wedged it into the crevice with all his might. He
tore off his coat, and jammed that in beside the rock.
The handkerchief was now nearly consumed, and when the last spark faded
away, the catamount came on more determinedly than ever. His yowls of
fury floated through the tunnel with dismal reverberations. He sniffed
and snorted, and began to tear at the obstacles that blocked the
crevice.
Brick shouted for help as he pulled the two remaining matches out of his
pocket. His nerveless fingers let them drop, and a hasty search of the
hard, stony ground proved futile.
Suddenly Brick felt a stinging sensation, and half of his shirt-sleeve
was ripped off his left arm. The catamount had thrust a paw through the
crevice.
Brick retreated as far as possible, wedging himself so tightly between
the rocks that he could scarcely move a limb. Here he crouched and
trembled. He knew that drops of warm blood were trickling down his arm,
but he felt no pain. He wondered why the boys did not come to his
rescue. Scarcely a foot away the catamount tore and scratched at the
barricade, pausing every now and then to utter a fearful screech. The
brute had doubtless been prowling about on the lake since the beginning
of the storm, and was ravenous with the pangs of hunger.
Suddenly a rattling noise told Brick that the slab of rock was loose,
and a moment later he heard it tumble in with a dull crash.
He gave himself up for lost.
Let us return, for a short time, to Hamp and Jerry.
Spurred on by mortal fear, they turned all the curves of the tunnel with
a speed and accuracy that they could scarcely have excelled by the light
of a lantern. Not until they tumbled breathlessly into the cabin, and
scraped a match, did they discover Brick's absence. Then the tumult of
sounds that rang out behind them told a plain tale.
"He's taken refuge in the storehouse," cried Jerry, "and the catamount
is trying to get at him."
"That's just it," echoed Hamp. "Come on, quick, or we'll be too late."
In three minutes--an eternity to poor Brick--they were crawling rapidly
back through the tunnel. Jerry had a rifle, and Hamp a double-barreled
shotgun loaded with big shot. From one side of Jerry's belt swung the
lantern, and in the other was thrust a bunch of pine boughs soaked in
oil. As the boys advanced, they heard Brick's cries for help, mingled
with the screeching of the catamount.
"So far he's safe," whispered Jerry. "I'll shoot first, and you be ready
to follow."
"I'll give the brute both barrels, if they're needed," muttered Hamp.
They were now at the wall of the ravine, and a moment later they turned
into the passage that led to the storehouse. The rocks were in sight,
but no catamount. Evidently the creature was inside. A loud scratching
and whining mingled with Brick's hoarse cries.
The boys crept nearer and nearer. They were trembling a little now, but
they went pluckily on.
Suddenly a dull crash was heard, and Brick's voice rose instantly to a
shrill pitch. The boys shouted in return, and Jerry quickly lighted his
torch.
The racket brought the catamount out from the storehouse like a streak.
The ugly beast glared at the boys and the torch. He was hungry for the
former, but afraid of the latter. He realized that he was outmatched,
and, turning his tail, he bounced into the passage that led to the lake,
wailing like a spoiled child.
It all happened so quickly that Jerry lost the opportunity he wanted. He
dashed to the angle, and pitched the torch far ahead. It flared up
brightly, showing the beast in a crouching attitude on the edge of the
gloom. Jerry took a quick aim, and fired.
The report rang out with stunning violence. Its echoes were followed by
a dismal wail and a shower of snow clods from the roof of the tunnel,
some of which extinguished the torch. When the smoke lifted, the
catamount had disappeared, though it was doubtless not far away.
With a glad cry of welcome, Brick crawled out from the storehouse, coat
in hand. His sleeveless arm was stained with blood, and the wound proved
to consist of several severe scratches.
"You just came in time, fellows," he said. "The beast had knocked my
barricade down, and in a few seconds more he would have had me. Do you
think you hit him?"
"I don't believe it," growled Jerry. "Seems to me I can't shoot worth a
cent any more. Still, I didn't have a fair shot. But we had better be
getting back to the cabin instead of fooling away time here."
"You bet we had," assented Hamp. "It's the only safe place. That
catamount will be after us again, or he ain't the kind of an Indian
devil I take him for."
Brick was nervously anxious to start, and at once took the lead of his
companions. They hurried around angle after angle, and when they were
half-way through the final passage, they heard the creature's pattering
strides behind them.
Brick and Hamp bolted into the cabin. Jerry paused on the threshold, and
wheeled around. He was frightened to see the catamount within six feet
of him. But he kept a cool head, and lifted his rifle, which he had
meanwhile reloaded. There was no time to hesitate. He aimed, and pulled
the trigger.
With the stunning report that followed, he rolled backward into the
cabin and sprang to his feet. A frightful scream of blended rage and
agony echoed through the tunnel, and the startled boys hastily pushed
the sled against the door. Then they backed off, and waited. Jerry
disengaged the still burning lantern from his belt, and placed it on the
floor.
Another horrid scream, pitched in a strain of mortal agony. Then a bang
and a crash. Away went the sled, and plump into the cabin tumbled the
wounded and infuriated catamount.
It was well for the lads that Hamp retained his presence of mind. Like a
flash the double barreled shotgun went to his shoulder. Twice he pulled
the trigger.
Bang, bang! a rasping screech mingled with the stunning reports. Then
all was still. When the curtain of powder smoke slowly lifted, the
quaking boys saw their ferocious enemy quivering in his death throes on
the blood-stained pine boughs.