The Speckled Heifer's Calf 233 



sharp barks, interspersed with excited 

 yelps. 



I looked in the direction indicated and saw 

 a large gray animal, with a short tail and a 

 whiskery face, spring lightly upon the trunk 

 of a tree that had been partly blown down, 

 but which still stood at an angle lodged 

 against its fellows. 



The cat scratched up the trunk for eight or 

 ten feet and then, in a frenzy of rage that 

 fairly made my hair stand on end, began tear- 

 ing the bark from the tree, at the same time 

 uttering a series of the most blood-curdling 

 screeches and snarls. The bark came down 

 in showers, the cat's claws flew so rapidly that 

 I could scarcely see them, while the screech- 

 ing seemed to my ears like the screaming of 

 a panther. 



" Let's go home, Ben," I whispered be- 

 tween the chattering of my teeth. " She 

 might see us. You know we aren't 

 armed." 



Ben laughed. " A bobcat won't fight un- 

 less she is cornered," he said. " You can go 



