16 HUNTING SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



ted behind a log, being a novice, and took aim when 

 anything was at bay. 



Old Pompey and little Willie had been absent from 

 the company for more than an hour, but the major, who 

 was well acquainted with the daring spirit of the boy, 

 was perfectly unconcerned. The only danger he feared 

 was, chat he might be injured by some straggling shot 

 from some of the hunters. 



We had stopped near some fallen timber, to examine a 

 hollow in a large oak, in which the major supposed a 

 bear might have retreated, when a startling shriek from 

 a thicket, about three hundred yards in advance, arrested 

 our attention. A crack of a rifle was then heard, and 

 another scream, accompanied with a fierce growling. 

 We started off at a run in the direction of the sounds, 

 which seemed to increase as we came near. The major, 

 who was a tall, powerful man, made his way through the 

 brush, as if there were only so many corn-stalks to im- 

 pede him. There was an open space in the thicket, with 

 a large tree in the centre. The first thing we saw on 

 entering it, was little Willie loading his rifle, and trem- 

 bling and screaming at the same time. A little beyond 

 him was a terrible scene. Old Pompey was lying pros- 

 trate on the ground, bleeding profusely, and an immense 

 panther crouching upon his body, the claws of one of his 

 paws firmly fastened in his side, while with the other, 

 he was keeping a dog at bay, growling furiously, and 

 shaking his immense tail, as I have seen a cat when in- 

 terrupted in his sport with an unfortunate mouse. 



Poor Pompey lay perfectly still, and was only saved 

 by the well-timed exertions of his dog, from being in- 



