"I guess it is dead after all," said Phil, after he had poked the beast
with a stick. "Wonder what it can be?"
"Looks a little like a big wildcat," said Roger.
"I know what it is," answered Dave, after all were certain the beast was
dead and they had dragged it over to the fire. "It's a cougar, or
mountain lion,--one of the worst wild beasts to be found in the West."
"Then it's no wonder I got scared when first I saw it," said Phil. "My,
what a powerful animal! And it must weigh fifty or sixty pounds."
"All of that, Phil."
"Is this the beast some call a panther or painter?" asked Roger.
"Yes, Roger. I was reading about them in a natural history, and the
cougar, mountain lion, puma, panther, and painter are all the same
beast. Years ago they were common all over the United States, but now
they are to be found only in the Far West and in the South. I think we
can count it a big feather in our cap that we killed a cougar."
"Do you think he was going to attack us?" asked the senator's son, with
a shiver.
"He was after the deer. But there is no telling what he might have done.
I am glad he is dead. Phil, it was lucky you heard the beast."
"Talk about excitement!" cried the shipowner's son. "I rather think we
are getting it! Rattlesnakes, deer, and a panther, all in one day and
night!"
"That is certainly piling it on some," admitted Dave.
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