HUNTING THE JAGUAR 89 



bush. The cattle, grazing peacefully, only stop- 

 ped now and again to gaze at us inquiringly. As 

 we rode by I could not help admiring their splen- 

 did condition, for I was not aware that cattle 

 thrived so well in the tropics. 



Another mile, and we were at the edge of the 

 strip of jungle. Jack's brow grew dark his 

 lips tight set, his dark eyes were fixed upon some- 

 thing half -hidden in the bush. A fresh "kill," he 

 said at last; "done to-day, not ten hours old. We 

 ought to get this fellow now, if we ever do." 



The hounds came up, and as they sniffed the 

 evil scent their hair bristled along their backs. 

 Then Star, the biggest and boldest of the lot, led 

 out, with the others following through the jungle, 

 and then their quavering chorus rose until the 

 whole woods echoed with the din of the wild chase. 

 The jungle was thick and the going difficult. 

 Jack went on ahead with the cutlass, for the 

 tangle of vines and creepers made it impossible 

 to force a way without continually wielding the 

 cutlass. 



The hounds had evidently stopped short, for 

 we could hear the whole pack, not fifty yards 

 ahead, while the wailing and clamor that smote 

 our ears assured us that just beyond, in that in- 

 tricate and tangled mass of almost inconceivable 



