that it
would be able to maintain its grasp even after its body had turned to
the underside of the huge branch. But all at once, without a sound, the
long body fell, striking hard upon the ground twenty feet or more below.

Before the animal could show whether or not it was still alive, Peleg,
who now had recovered from his first alarm, raised his rifle and fired
at the prostrate body.

There was slight question now as to the approaching death of the savage
beast. It lay almost motionless on the ground, but there was still an
occasional nervous twitching of its long tail. Both boys, however, were
too skilled in the art of the hunter to venture within reach of the
terrible claws until they were satisfied that the dreaded enemy was
indeed dead.

"There may be another," said Peleg nervously, as he glanced into the
woods after he had hastily reloaded his rifle. "That cry we heard
probably was the call of this one's mate."

"That may be so," said young Boone.

"What are you going to do?" inquired Peleg in surprise, as he saw his
companion place his rifle against a tree and draw his hunting-knife from
his belt.

"I am going to skin this big cat."

"Do you think we ought to stop for that?" asked Peleg.

"Yes."

"Then let me help."

"No, you keep guard. Our guns may have stirred up more trouble than we
know."

Acting upon this suggestion, both boys became silent while young Boone
began his task.

Swiftly and deftly he slit the beautiful skin the length of the body,
and then did likewise on each leg. So skilful was the young hunter that
in a brief time he had drawn back the skin sufficiently to cause him to
call to his companion, "Come here and help me."

Together the two boys then tore the skin from the body, and young Boone
rolled the panther's hide into a small, compact bundle. He tied this
securely with a deerskin thong, and then added it to his burden.

At once the boys began to run swiftly to regain the distance they had
lost. They had not advanced far, however, before they saw some one
approaching them on the trail.

"'Tis as I thought," said James Boone with a smile. "Our guns have
'roused our friends."

"That's Sam Oliver."

"I see it is," replied James.

Neither of the boys spoke again as the man rapidly approached them. Both
knew him as one of the hunters of the company, and as one whose labours
chiefly were confined to that field.

Sam was perhaps fifty years of age, tall, rawboned, sunbur