The animal must have had a place of hiding close by, from which it had
probably jumped upon the shoulders of Spanish Joe, and now sought to
repeat that act.
Bob was struck by the descending body of the animal; and while he did
not suffer serious injury from the blow, it jarred his arm, and caused
him to drop his rifle. He instantly leaped forward to recover the
weapon, but through chance picked it up by the end of the barrel.
The panther had recovered, and was crouching as though to repeat its
jump. Only a yard lay between the fierce beast and the boy who held
the gun. Perhaps a veteran hunter would have proceeded to reverse the
weapon, and discharge it without taking the trouble to throw the stock
to his shoulder. But Bob did not dream that he would be given enough
time for all this.
He saw the beast there close to him, and his first thought was to poke
the butt of the rifle directly at its head, striking with all his
force. The blow landed heavily, but as the beast gave way, Bob lost
his balance, and fell directly toward the panther.
It looked as though the boy might be in for a terrible clawing, and so
it must have turned out had he been alone. But he had a comrade close
at hand who did not hesitate an instant about taking part in the affair.
Frank could not get at his gun, which was slung across his back; but he
knew he had a better weapon than that in hand. Wild animals dread fire
above all things; and every lad brought up on the prairie knows this
fact.
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