The hunters approached very carefully now,
making little sound and keeping out of sight. The panther was
wholly engrossed with observing the astonishing impudence of that
dog, when Quonab came quietly up, leaned his rifle against a tree
and fired. The smoke cleared to show the panther on his back,
his legs convulsively waving in the air, and Skookum tugging
valiantly at his tail.
"My panther," he seemed to say; "whatever would you do without me?"
A panther in a deer yard is much like a wolf shut up in a
sheepfold. He would probably have killed all the deer that
winter, though there were ten times as many as he needed for
food; and getting rid of him was a piece of good luck for hunters
and deer, while his superb hide made a noble trophy that in years
to come had unexpected places of honour.
Chapter 43. Sunday in the Woods
Rolf still kept to the tradition of Sunday, and Quonab had in a
manner accepted it. It was a curious fact that the red man had
far more toleration for the white man's religious ideas than the
white man had for the red's.
Quonab's songs to the sun and the spirit, or his burning of a
tobacco pinch, or an animal's whiskers were to Rolf but harmless
nonsense.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230