So when
the great brute whirled with a snort and a tremendous crash of
bushes, almost under my nose, it raised my hair for a moment, not
knowing what the creature was, nor which way he was heading. But
though every day brought its experience, and its knowledge, and its
new wonder at the ways of wild things, I found no trace of the den,
nor of the kittens I had hoped to watch. All animals are silent near
their little ones, so there was never a cry by night or day to guide
me.
Late one afternoon, when I had climbed to the top of the ridge and was
on my way back to camp, I ran into an odor, the strong, disagreeable
odor that always hovers about the den of a carnivorous animal. I
followed it through a thicket, and came to an open stony place, with a
sharp drop of five or six feet to dense cover below. The odor came
from this cover, so I jumped down; when--_yeow, karrrr, pft-pft!_
Almost under my feet a gray thing leaped away snarling, followed by
another. I had the merest glimpse of them; but from the way they
bristled and spit and arched their backs, I knew that I had stumbled
upon a pair of the lynx kittens, for which I had searched so long in
vain.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161