12 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



A dozen big snowballs induced the 'coon to move, 

 and we got a better view of him. " He's got no tail," 

 I remarked, as the animal crept out a short distance on 

 a nearly horizontal branch. 



" Yes, he has ; it's the moonlight blinds you," Miles 

 replied ; and so, accepting tlie decision that it was a 

 'coon, I commenced to climb. Securing, at last, a firm 

 foothold where the 'coon had been, I took a general sur- 

 vey of the situation. The bright moonlight rendered 

 every object distinct, and I had a full view of the "crit- 

 ter." There it sat, staring me full in the face, and with 

 as wicked a countenance as I ever met ; but it was no 

 ordinary 'coon. Its broad, blunt face, its gray fur, arched 

 back, and short tail, told quite another story. I was 

 facing a wildcat ! 



There are occasions when a man's thoughts outspeed 

 the lightning, and this was one of them ; but my actions 

 could not keep pace. I had a thousand plans, and fol- 

 lowed none. An angry scream is all I remember now, 

 as it seemed to hurl me headlong to the ground. Down 

 into the snow I plunged, burying my arms and legs far 

 below the frozen crust, and there, for the moment, I lay 

 helpless. My next remembered thought was that Miles 

 was attacked, as his rapid ejaculations, mingled with the 

 yelping of the dog, seemed to indicate. It acted as a 

 restorative, and, struggling to my feet, I was astonished 

 to find that the cat had disappeared, and that Miles was 

 some distance off, rapidly pursuing a homeward course. 

 I hurried after, but he was safely housed before I could 

 overtake him. Entering the door he had so recently 

 slammed behind him, I found the man, pale as a ghost, 



