86 BIG GAME FIELDS 



wide circle of their trail, fast picking them up 

 with every bound. 



It was a tight finish right up to the woods, with 

 the quarry just ahead. What was the quarry? 

 Jack didn't say, and I didn't know. "Come on," 

 said Jack as we pulled our horses up, and slid off 

 to enter the bush. "It's shooting time," he added. 

 The hounds were only a few yards in the woods 

 and barking treed. We stepped along gingerly 

 into the woods, and soon, upon looking up, we 

 saw, flattened on the branch of a flamboyant tree, 

 an ocelot, staring down with a slow, evil, insolent 

 stare. Then his eyes blazed with hate and fury; 

 for his inches his disposition is a very wicked one, 

 and even a young calf does not come amiss to his 

 killing propensities. After despatching this 

 handsomely marked little chap, who is second in 

 beauty of all the cats in the New World, we con- 

 tinued our hunting. 



We carefully beat through three long strips 

 of jungle. But no fresh sign rewarded us; and 

 so it was on the second day. After hunting care- 

 fully we returned to the ranch without finding a 

 trace of the crafty fellow. The third day was 

 going very much the same, and it was waxing 

 along in the afternoon when we rode across the 

 savannah to hunt the last strip of likely looking 



