hat
instant two great birds appeared before us at the opening of the forest,
which were at once recognised as a brace of white-headed eagles (_Falco
leucocephalus_). This accounted for the rash flight of the pigeons; for
the eagles had evidently been in pursuit of them, and had driven them to
seek shelter under the trees. We were desirous of emptying our guns at
the great birds of prey, and there was a simultaneous spurring of horses
and cocking of guns: to no purpose, however. The eagles were on the
alert. They had already espied us; and, uttering their maniac screams,
they wheeled suddenly, and disappeared over the tree-tops.

We had hardly recovered from this pleasant little bit of excitement,
when the guide Ike, who rode in the advance, was seen suddenly to jerk
up, exclaiming--

"Painter, by God! I know'd I heard a painter."

"Where? where?" was hurriedly uttered by several voices, while all
pressed forward to the guide.

"Yander!" replied Ike, pointing to a thicket of young beeches. "He's
tuk to the brush: ride round, fellers. Mark, boy, round! quick, damn
you!"

There was a scramble of horsemen, with excited, anxious looks and
gestures. Every one had his gun cocked and ready, and in a few seconds
the small copse of beeches, with their golden-yellow leaves, was
inclosed by a ring of hunters. Had the cougar got away, or was he still
within the thicket? Several large trees grew out of its midst. Had he
taken to one? The eyes of the party were turned upwards. The fierce
creature was nowhere visible.

It was impossible to see into every part of the jungle from the outside,
as we sat in our saddles. The game might be crouching among the grass
and brambles. What was to be done? We had no dogs. How was the cougar
to be started? It would be no small peril to penetrate the thicket
afoot. Who was to do it?

The question was answered by Redwood, who was now seen dismounting from
his horse.

"Keep your eyes about you," cried he. "I'll make the varmint show if
he's thur. Look sharp, then!"

We saw Redwood enter fearlessly, leaving his horse hitched over a
branch. We heard him no longer, as he proceeded with that stealthy
silence known only to the Indian fighter. We listened, and waited in
profound suspense. Not even the crackling of a branch broke the
stillness. Full five minutes we waited, and then the sharp crack of a
rifle near the centre of the copsewood relieved, us. The next moment