A Cunning Cat and a Sly Old ’Possum.

The place where our adventurers now encamped was in a large grove of white oaks and shell-bark hickory-trees. There was a spring near the centre of the grove, and near this spring the horses were tied, as there grew around it plenty of grass of the mezquite species. The dried meat, which formed the staple of their own provisions, had been scattered by Jeanette in her flight, and of course lost. What were they to have for dinner? This was an important question; and by way of answer to it, Basil and François took up their guns and walked out to see whether they could fall in with a squirrel or some other eatable creature. But the sun was yet high, and no squirrels could be seen—for these little creatures hide themselves during mid-day, coming out only in the mornings and evenings to feed and play.

Failing to start any game in the thick shady grove, the young hunters bethought them of making trial around its edge; and, after walking a hundred yards or so, they came near the border of the prairie. They did not show themselves suddenly, as they were in hopes they might discover deer, partridges, or some other game in—what is usually a favourite resort—the open ground along the edge of the woods. They stole silently forward, therefore, using the large tree-trunks to screen them.

The prairie was a clear one—that is, without timber-islands, only here and there a tree, and these but small ones, mostly black-jacks and shell-barks. They could see over its surface to a great extent, as it was quite level and covered with short spring buffalo-grass. No deer was upon it. Not an animal of any sort. Yes, there was. On looking more carefully, at no great distance—about two hundred yards out—they beheld two small creatures running over the sward, and at intervals squatting upon their haunches like monkeys, as if conversing with each other.

“Prairie-dogs,” suggested François.

“No,” said Basil, “they are not that, for I see no tails. The prairie-dogs have long tails.”

“What can they be, then?”

“Hares, I take it,” replied Basil, looking through his fingers.

“Hares!” ejaculated François, in some surprise. “Why, they are not bigger than rats! Do you mean that they are young hares?”

“No, indeed, full-grown hares of their species.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed François. “Why, brother, what are your eyes good for? You think they are far off, don’t you? I tell you they are not two hundred yards from us, and a grey squirrel would be a giant beside them. Hares, indeed!”

“I am still of that opinion,” answered Basil, as he continued to gaze intently at the animals. “I am not certain, though. I wish Lucien were here. Perhaps he could tell us what they are.”

“Here he is, then,” said François, as the footstep of Lucien was heard behind them. “Look yonder, Luce!” continued he. “See what Basil calls a pair of full-grown hares!”

“And Basil is right,” replied Lucien, after having examined them for a moment. “They are full-grown hares.”

François looked confounded.

“If I mistake not,” continued Lucien, “they are the species known among the Indians of the prairie as the ‘little chief hare.’ They may be a different variety, though, for there are several species of these small hares found in the Rocky Mountains, and the prairies that lie around them. They are very rare. I wish we could get the skin of one. I am sure papa would prize it highly.”

“That we may soon get,” said François. “Can I not step forward, and shoot one of them?”

“No,” replied Lucien, “they would be off like the wind, before you could get within range.”

“What about Marengo? Can he not catch one?”

“I think not; besides, he would tear it in pieces. No. Our only chance is to remain here. They appear to be making this way.”

The three now took their stations behind the trunks of large trees, so as not to be observed by the timid little animals.

The latter, as they fed and sported over the grass, were still getting nearer to the edge of the grove; but as they advanced in an oblique direction, they were not likely to approach the point where the young hunters were stationed. These thought of moving farther along, so as to meet them; and were about starting to do so, when an object appeared that caused them to remain where they were.

Silently moving among the weeds and brambles, now trotting quickly behind the covering of a prostrate log, now slowly crawling over the more open ground, went a strange animal. At intervals it stopped, squatted low along the earth, and looked eagerly out upon the prairie. It did not see the young hunters. Its yellow eyes were bent upon the innocent little creatures that gambolled over the grass beyond.

It was an odd-looking animal—about the size of a terrier-dog, but, otherwise, altogether unlike one. It was of a reddish yellow colour, with brown spots upon its sides, and stripes or bands of the same along its back. These gave it the appearance of the leopard or tiger species, and it resembled these animals in the rounded, cat-like form of its head. Its erect tufted ears, however, and short tail showed that it differed, in some respects, from the tiger kind. The tail, indeed, was the oddest thing about it. It was not over five inches in length, curving stiffly upward, and looking as if it had been “stumped,” as the tails of terriers usually are. It was not so, however. Five inches was all the tail it ever had; and this shortness of tail, with the thick clumsy legs—but, above all, the high tufted ears, approaching each other at their tips,—enabled the young hunters to tell what it was—a lynx. It was that species known as the “bay lynx” (lynx rufus), commonly called in America the “wild cat,” and sometimes the “catamount.” It was the Texas variety of this animal—which is deeper in colour than the common bay lynx, and, I think, a different species. It was evidently doing its best to get near the little hares, and seize one or both of them. It knew it was not swift enough to run them down, but it might get close enough to spring upon them. It was favoured to some extent by the ground; for, although it was open prairie, the white withered grass of the previous year rose here and there over the new growth in tufts, large enough to conceal its body as it squatted.

Nearly in a direct line between the lynx and the hares grew a solitary tree, of the pecan species, with spreading limbs; and almost under it was a little patch or thicket of briars, weeds, and high grass—no doubt where some old log, or the carcass of an animal, had mouldered away, and fertilised the soil. For this the lynx was making on one side, and towards it the hares were feeding on the other.

The latter had got very near it, and near, too, to the boys, who could now distinguish their long, erect ears, slender limbs, and graceful motions—resembling, in fact, those of the common hare. Their colour, however, was different. It was a rusty fern, lighter underneath, but in no part—not even under the tail—did any white appear. It was a beautiful sight to behold these innocent little creatures, now nibbling at the blades of grass, now leaping a few feet over the sward, and then settling comically upon their haunches. The young hunters thought it a beautiful sight; and so would you, boy reader, had you witnessed the manoeuvres of these miniature hares.

An odd-looking object now presented itself directly in front of them, and close to the briars. It was of a round shape, and looked like a large clew of hair or wool of a greyish colour, half-buried in the ground. Whether it had been there before, neither Basil, nor Lucien, nor François, could tell. It might have been without their noticing it, as their attention was so occupied with the hares and the lynx. François said he had noticed it a little before; but it had only slightly arrested his attention, as he supposed it to be a tuft of the dry grass or a globe-cactus (echinocactus)—a species of which they had seen much of late, and to which it bore a considerable resemblance. It was evident, however, on closer scrutiny it was not that.

The little hares seemed to notice it about the same time; and, prompted by curiosity, they drew nearer and nearer to it. There was nothing about its appearance to alarm them. They had never been attacked by an enemy in that shape. To all appearance it had neither teeth nor claws, and consequently they had nothing to fear.

Encouraged by the absence of all danger, and vieing with each other in boldness, the little creatures advanced, first one and then the other, a few inches farther, and so on, until their noses almost touched the strange object. All at once the clew-like body flew out, displaying a sharp-snouted four-footed animal, whose long serpent-like tail, at the same instant, sweeping around caught one of the hares in its prehensile embrace! The little creature uttered a shrill squeak, while its companion bounded off in terror.

The opossum (for it was no other than an old she ’possum), now turned upon her tail; and, seizing the head of the hare in her hog-like jaws, killed it at a single “cranch.” She then released it from the coil; and, laying it out upon the grass, would have made a meal of it then and there, had she been permitted to do so. But that was not ordained to be.
The Lynx and Opossum

The lynx, who was crouching forward, not twenty feet from the briars, had been a witness to............