364 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
or conjecturing whether wolves learned to howl by gamut, 
and how many quavers made their endless bars, or wondering 
wi.cther “rattle! rattle! snap! snap!” was considered a 
| citimate chorus to “tu whit! tu whoo!” by the San Saba 
owls. ° 
I got tired conjecturing about the owls, for they seemed 
to have taken that matter in hand with regard to me, and 
came flapping and hooting about the tree tops, and shining 
their great eyes curiously at me, as they went by, till I 
almost foamed with spite, because I couldn’t punch them 
out. The moon got up over head at last, and that narrow 
little valley, which looked so pretty in the morning sunshine, 
now lay along the deep bosom of the shadow, in the light, 
braiding them like a silver ribbon. Those graceful little 
creatures stepping across it, one, two, three, they are ocelots, 
spotted like a pard. What a carouse is going on down there 
over that bear’s carcass. The brutes are about to hold a 
carnival here to-night, in celebration of my release from the 
thraldom and restraints of civilization. Confound ’em, if 
they hadn’t such rakish ways about them, I would come 
down and do the “honors” for them genteelly, as a civil 
host should! Can’t trust ‘em, though! How their eyes do 
sparkle and flash green flames, as they spit and claw at each 
other over the bones. The panther rules the roost down 
there. I wonder if the puma is going to come. 
I wish he would. There’llbe rare scintillating fire-works 
from their eyes should they get to battling. I suppose I 
should see all the cat family by the light, sitting on their 
haunches around, connoisseuring. That would be funny, for 
they are a sober, demure-looking generation. Look at that 
pack of wolves sitting off there in the moonlight. How they 
fidget, and whine, and lick their chops. They dare not come 
nearer! Good for them, the sneaking grave-robbers! Those 
panthers are gleaming their eyes up this way. Have they 
scented? Can it be they suspect? There go the gleams 
