40 BOBBY LYNX OF ROUND-TOP 
the most of which had either been shot or 
trapped by the settlers, he was carefully 
making his way back to the well-known 
trails of his own mountain. No call did 
he give,—well he knew that he was alone 
and in a strange place. Danger lurked 
on every side; his only safety lay in steal¬ 
ing along as stealthily as he could and 
passing the crest of the hill before the sun 
should catch him. 
He sniffed eagerly as he caught the 
scent of deer on the night-wind. Even a 
lone wolf might dare attack a deer. He 
threw his head up and sniffed long and 
carefully and then,—before he could give 
a cry or one jump,—a grey ball of biting, 
tearing claws and steel muscles and rip¬ 
ping, cruel teeth, dropped on him from 
the beech-limb! It was a delicious meal 
that Mother Lynx had,—the first real 
breakfast in more time than she liked to 
think of and she crept home perfectly 
