limb of a tree under which the winding trail to Log Cabin Bend apparently ran.

 CHAPTER IITHE FIRST CAMPFIRE 

CHAPTER II

THE FIRST CAMPFIRE

“Oh! what’s that?” gasped Perk.

“Stand perfectly still, everybody, or he may jump at us!” commanded the leader.

“A whopping big cat, for a fact!” muttered Wee Willie, fumbling about his waist, where he usually carried a homely so-called “hunting knife” in a leather sheath, when on the hike.

“See his yellow and green eyes, will you!” muttered Amos. “He acts as if as mad as hops because we came along. What ails him, do you think, Elmer?”

“I couldn’t say,” replied the other, softly, “unless this one happens to be a mother cat, with kits somewhere close by. They say such a varmint is always doubly dangerous to a man in the woods, especially after nightfall sets in.”

“What’ll we do about it—back out?” came in Perk’s quavering voice.

“I’d hate to do that, for fear of losing the trail,” said Elmer.

“But we’d get clawed up something fierce, wouldn’t we, if it came to a fight with the savage critter? Just listen to the snarls, will you?” the stout boy went on to say.

“Hold on!” suddenly remarked Amos; “leave it all to me, and I think I can do the business. Just keep quiet for a minute or so, and then see what’s going to happen.”

He was heard fumbling with some of the stuff he carried.

“You haven’t got a gun along now, have you, Amos?” asked Perk, with possible visions of a wounded wildcat charging them, and committing more or less scratching and biting before giving up the ghost.

“Something a heap better’n that,” panted Amos, himself excited for fear the enraged beast might leap before he got his plans ready for carrying out. “There, now I’ve got the thing loose; give me just time enough to put a cartridge in place. Don’t be startled, 

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