CAMPING WITH COMANCHES 263 



ther then, but I know it as a mountain lion now. 

 The creature must have been in full sight for 

 minutes and in another minute I should have 

 been within reach of its claws but for the Indian, 

 for I was studying trees that were more distant. 



I didn't know then how little danger there was 

 from the fierce-looking cowardly brute, but I am 

 sure that my nerves were steady during the tense 

 ten seconds I took to raise my rifle until its sights 

 were aligned on the creature's head. As the bul- 

 let passed through his brain a convulsive move- 

 ment threw him clear of the branch, but he was 

 dead when he touched the ground. 



When the panther skin was brought to the 

 camp for Quirtz Quip's squaw to dress I felt sure 

 of my Indian promotion. I thought I might 

 trade off my turkey title for something like 

 "Slayer of Wild Beasts," but Jones told me that 

 killing a panther that was within a rod of me 

 or shooting an antelope or running down a 

 dozen buffalo wasn't half as big a thing as bring- 

 ing in a cart load of turkeys. 



"The Indians are not used to shotguns," said 



