In his haste, the lad slipped, falling directly over the sleeping form of the poet laureate. Dave awoke with an exclamation1. At the same instant, a wild, unearthly screech2 aroused every member of the club.
In the bright moonlight, a long, powerful-looking animal, with ears thrown back and tail slowly swinging from side to side, was seen crouching3 as if ready to spring.
The sight of the shadowy figures, however, sent it slinking back a few feet, where, with another scream, it paused.
"A wildcat!" whispered Bob Somers; "the guns—"
He quickly shook off the lethargy which the sudden realization4 of their peril5 had thrown over him, and seized his weapon. But before a move could be made, the beast made a lightning-like spring, tore down the duck from the pole where Bob had hung it, and dashed off in the direction of the woods.
Bob Somers hastily fired at its retreating form.
"Christopher, but that was a narrow escape!" exclaimed Tom Clifton, with a shudder6. "We might have been chewed all to pieces."
"The scent7 of that duck must have brought the ugly beast skulking8 around," said Bob.
"Do you think it will come back?"
"If it does, we'll give it a warmer welcome than it ever got before."
"A wildcat is a pretty ugly creature outside of a cage," observed Dick Travers. "I didn't know that they let out such awful yells."
With considerable apprehension9, they gazed at the dark line of forest, half expecting that the savage10 animal would reappear.
"We must build a big fire," declared Bob; "that may keep the brute11 away."
Tired as the boys were, they set to work with a will. Fortunately, a plentiful12 supply of wood was near at hand, and, as all hands took part, a roaring fire was soon sending a great circle of light over the surroundings.
"Boys, we will have to take turns on guard," said Bob. "It would never do to let his lordship come back and find us all asleep."
"Never!" echoed Tom, with a shudder.
"If Hackett was only here to protect us," observed Dave Brandon.
All joined in the laugh that followed.
At every sound, and the woods in the stillness of the night furnished a surprising number, the young hunters gripped their guns more tightly. Bob piled several huge logs on the fire, which crackled and roared in a most cheerful fashion.
"No beast would dare to come around with a blaze like that," declared Bob. "Old Bill Agnew told me once that—"
"Listen!"
It was Dick Travers who uttered this exclamation.
The sound of voices, coming from the direction of the woods, suddenly reached their ears with astonishing clearness, then came the loud report of guns, mingling13 together in a blast of sound, while, a moment later, a single shot reverberated14. More confused cries followed.
"As I live, the Trailers!" exclaimed Sam Randall.
"The wildcat must have been nosing around their camp," said Bob.
"And judging by the sound, it is close here," added Dave Brandon.
"But we haven't seen the light of any camp-fire," objected Sam.
"Those great hunters most likely use an oil-stove," put in another. "Listen! Aren't they coming this way, fellows?"
Such, indeed, seemed to be the case. Various sounds indicated that a party was approaching through the woods.
"The 'Ramrods' in retreat, I'll bet," said Bob, with a chuckle16.
His words were scarcely spoken before several dark forms emerged into view, coming directly toward them.
"Halloa, there!" bawled17 Nat's familiar voice. "Are you all alive?"
When the Nimrods gathered around the fire, it was noticed that they all looked decidedly pale and frightened.
"See anything of a funny-looking cat, boys?" asked Dave Brandon.
"Did we see it?" exclaimed John Hackett and Nat, in chorus.
"Well, say—I had the fight of my life," declared "Hatchet18," boastfully. "We didn't turn in until late; I hadn't gone to sleep, when, all of a sudden, the varmint appeared in an open space, fighting like mad with a whopping big eagle."
"An eagle?" chorused the Ramblers, winking19 slyly at one another.
"Certainly, an eagle; that's what I told you," pursued Hackett. "Then I said to myself—"
"You mean that you let out a screech which awakened20 the whole bunch," put in Nat, laughingly.
"Well, I thought I'd give everybody a chance to get a shot at it, that was all," went on John. "Well, we jumped up in a hurry, and sallied forth21—say—did you hear any shots?"
"Rather!" laughed Bob.
"Well, if my foot hadn't slipped, there would have been one wildcat less."
"Ha, ha!" roared Nat. "Over there, you'll see a tree that looks to be dead. But it isn't. 'Hatchet' shot off almost every leaf."
"Just as I got a bead22 on him," explained John, "my left foot went down in a hole—"
"And your gun up in the air," finished Nat. "I thought you were aiming at the moon."
"Then," said Hackett, "the beast was right upon me. I grabbed my gun by the barrel, and gave it a fearful clip on the head. Wow, such a screech as went up! I'll wager23 it nearly killed the beast."
"Do you mean that the screech nearly killed it, or what?" asked Nat, with another boisterous24 laugh. "I'll bet you only hit a tree trunk."
"Never mind about any funny remarks," returned John. "It's a good thing for the whole gang that I clubbed it."
"What happened after that?" inquired Bob, with a smile.
"The boys all fired, and away it went, like a streak25."
"Funny that none of you hit the beast—it was so close," observed Dick Travers, slyly.
"We hit it all right," said Nat; "guess it will never do any more screeching26. How did you fellows happen to see it?"
Bob Somers briefly27 told about their experience.
Notwithstanding their apparent belief that the animal's career was ended, the ............