miss the sight of. Then he set forth to seek the orphaned little ones.
The search was difficult in that precipitous jumble of rocks and undergrowth; but presently the trail of the dead mother, which he had lost on a patch of naked rock lately swept by a landslide, revealed itself to him again. Just then, from almost over his head came an outburst of small but angry spittings, followed by a catlike cry of agony. Furious at the thought that some prowler had reached the defenceless nest ahead of him, Merivale sprang forwards and swung himself recklessly up on the ledge where the noises came from.
There, straight before him, in a shallow, sheltered cave with the sunrise just flooding full into it, was the puma's lair. The picture stamped itself in minutest detail on Merivale's memory. One puma kitten, about the size of a common tabby, lay outstretched dead. A big red fox was just worrying a second to death, having seized it too near the shoulders and so failing to break its neck at the first snap. The third and last kitten was spitting and growling, and clawing manfully but futilely at the thick rich fur of the slaughterer. It was evident that the battle between the grizzly and the mother puma had been watched by the fox, who, as soon as he saw the result, had realized that it would now be quite safe for him to visit the undefended den and capture an easy prey.
