A PREDICAMENT.—PANTHER'S EYES.                  135
soon the cry of this creature was answered in other quarters, at first in the same drenched tones, and then more boldly.
Very soon an owl chimed in with an interrogatory, too—whoo ? while another answered, a little less timidly, too—whoo ; and then a third, which seemed to have by this time acquired a sort of spasmodic bravery, shouted out the whole chorus, ore rotunda— too whoo—too whoo—too whit!
Now a panther close by threw in the delicate cadence of a scream, prolonged into a quavering screech that made my very hair bristle!
These were sociable and companionable sounds enough, considering how black it was before my eyes; but, when all at once I saw a pair of shining eyes answering to my own from the darkness, I felt my heart leap into my throat " instanter," and each particular hair upon my body becoming fretful.
Horror ! it must be the panther ! That one that sputtered almost in my face as it climbed out of the torrent just before me ! The ungrateful savage—to be thinking of blood already, after having made such a narrow escape ! He has scented me out, and, may be, has sent his " belly-pinched" ravenous mate to see to my health.    Ah, hospitable wilderness !
It has scented me out, too, and here I am vis-a-vis with one of these sugary-mouthed wailers, who always are like Bachaels in the wilderness, weeping for their children, and refusing to le comforted because food is not—luscious tender food of man's flesh, I fear me !
I suppose as I am, that now the white-fanged weeper has ceased " to pour her dolors forth," and closed that huge, red gap of death, and moans with the firm determination of being comforted at my expense, even for her " freckled whelps" and for herself!
Save us from such maternal solicitudes ! Shall I fire at those eyes ?    But my gun is wet; it won't go off!
O dilemma of dilemmas! Bed of roses that I rest upon! Pleasant to sit here, gazing on those live fire-spots, and afraid to budge or wink!