446 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 



Even if the grouse is too far off, or the cat has miscalcu- 

 lated his leap, and the bird takes to his wings, which are of 

 great strength, and which often carry him through the 

 hunter's fire unscathed, the Lynx is not yet foiled, nor are 

 his resources yet at an end. No aim is truer, no calculation 

 more accurate, no motion swifter, than the spring which is 

 now made, as the bird rises from the ground, and is caught 

 in mid-air, with a tremendous leap of lightning-like swift- 

 ness; and the bird is crushed between jaws of steel. 



The feathers show us that the beast has tarried here; and 

 this delay may be fatal to him. Going still slower, we move 

 silently along in the fresh-cut tracks. Here he has turned; 

 now he has doubled back. We must be careful, or we will 

 lose him in this thick jungle. 



"Very likely he is in there," we think, as we lift one 

 foot ahead of the other — one eye on the trail, the other 

 examining every limb and trunk ahead of us, and on each 

 side. 



' ' No, he can' t be in here. ' ' 



The tracks continue through; now his jumps are longer; 

 he is fairly humping himself, no doubt having pressing 

 business on hand in some other county. We don't believe 

 he has heard or seen us, for we have the wind and have come 

 very cautiously and quietly. No sound can he have heard. 

 Now the trail leads us into an almost impenetrable jungle, 

 along a ravine. A wind-fall blocks our further progress; 

 trees of all sizes are piled above each other, till it seems an 

 impossibility for even a cat to enter. 



A council' of war is held, in whispered accents. The 

 area of the wind-fall is not great, so we decide to encircle 

 it, hoping to pat puss out if hidden therein. The engineer 

 climbs down into the rugged, rocky, shelving mountain- 

 gulch, carefully watching for the trail. The writer circles 

 in the opposite direction, which proves less precipitous; 

 also watches the snow-covered ground for the trail. 



A low whistle from the engineer hastens his footsteps. 

 We are soon together again. The veteran silently points a 

 finger up the craggy sides of the gulch, where a ledge of 



