THE RAINY SEASON. 99 
yon, since the danger of being struck is greater on 
high poiits. Halfway down the slope I: spied a pile 
of outcropping rocks just ahead. It looked like a 
good shelter, the more so as on closer inspection a 
cave appeared. The mouth was about three feet 
high and just wide enough to squeeze through. The 
, Storm was close at hand, so without more ado I 
dropped on hands and knees and began to crawl into 
the opening. Almost at once I stopped at a slight 
movement within, and looked up into a pair of the 
brightest, greenest, most fearsome eyes imaginable. 
It could not have been more than ten seconds after- 
ward before I found myself perched in a small oak, 
some five feet from the ground, with no recollection 
of how I got there. A female mountain lion, her tail 
waving gently to and fro, crouched close to the 
ground a short distance away. 
I had sometimes fondly imagined a meeting of this 
sort, but the details in those adventures did not cor- 
respond in the slightest degree to the present cir- 
cumstances. I reflected, as I drew my automatic 
from its holster, that facts do not invariably follow 
the course of mental excursions. 
And at just this interesting moment I recalled 
with a sinking sensation that I had all but emptied 
my gun at a squirrel only a short time before. I 
was not sure whether there were any cartridges left 
in the magazine. 
The ensuing brief pause was one of the most un- 
comfortable periods I have ever spent. Fortunately 
