"Joe, I'm scared!" Billy whispered.
The old Squire was frightened also, but he opened the door a crack and
peered out. On the snow under the birch-trees he could distinguish the
dark form of a large panther. It had seen the door move and had crouched
as if to spring. He saw the flash of two fiery eyes in the dim light and
again heard the sough of the creature's breath before he clapped the
door shut and braced the gun against it. But he had no confidence in the
flimsy birch bark; so he got out his jackknife and bade Billy get out
his. It did not occur to them that the panther had scented the freshly
killed game and had followed the trail of it.
The boys passed dreadful hours of suspense during that long, cold
December night. More than once they heard the creature "sharpen its
claws" on tree trunks, and the sound was by no means cheerful. The brute
seemed bent on remaining near the little camp. I remember that Grandsir
Billy said that they heard it "garp" several times; I suppose he meant
yawn. The circumstance seems rather strange. He said that it "garped"
like a big dog every time it sharpened its claws. Yet it did not cease
to watch the little inclosure.
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