ithe, formidable cat fairly shone as it
snarled defiance at the pack below. I did not trust the pack; the dogs
were not stanch, and if the jaguar came down and started I feared we
might lose it. So I fired at once, from a distance of seventy yards. I
was using my favorite rifle, the little Springfield with which I have
killed most kinds of African game, from the lion and elephant down;
the bullets were the sharp, pointed kind, with the end of naked lead.
At the shot the jaguar fell like a sack of sand through the branches,
and although it staggered to its feet it went but a score of yards
before it sank down, and when I came up it was dead under the palms,
with three or four of the bolder dogs riving at it.

The jaguar is the king of South American game, ranking on an equality
with the noblest beasts of the chase of North America, and behind only
the huge and fierce creatures which stand at the head of the big game
of Africa and Asia. This one was an adult female. It was heavier and
more powerful than a full-grown male cougar, or African panther or
leopard. It was a big, powerfully built creature, giving the same
effect of strength that a tiger or lion does, and that the lithe
leopards and pumas do not. Its flesh, by the way, proved good eating,
when we had it for supper, although it was not cooked in the way it
ought to have been. I tried it because I had found cougars such good
eating; I have always regretted that in Africa I did not try lion's
flesh, which I am sure must be excellent.

Next day came Kermit's turn. We had the miscellaneous pack with us,
all much enjoying themselves; but, although they could help in a
jaguar-hunt to the extent of giving tongue and following the chase for
half a mile, cowing the quarry by their clamor, they were not
sufficiently stanch to be of use if there was any difficulty in the
hunt. The only two dogs we could trust were the two borrowed jaguar
hounds. This was the black dog's day. About ten in the morning we came
to a long, deep, winding bayou. On the opposite bank stood a capybara,
looking like a blunt-nosed pig, its wet hide shining black. I killed
it, and it slid into the water. Then I found that the bayou extended
for a mile or two in each direction, and the two hunter-guides said
they did not wish to swim across for fear of the piranhas. Just at
this moment we came across fresh jaguar tracks. It was hot, we had
been travelling for five hours, and the dogs were much exhausted