New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1904-11-27

a great pile of leaves, probably blown in
by the winds. There a depression in the middle
of the pile as though animal had used the hut
as a lair Carnaby raked the leaves before the FIRE
and lay down baskng in the glow, his pipe between
his teeth, the of wind and pattcr of rain IN his
ears, and his thoughts travelling backward among
the incidents Of the day and OF his hunting trip until
they led him to a girl back East-and then they
travelled because he sound asleep.
How long he slept he lid not know, but he came
awake with a start and sense of something having
been in the room momen' before The hre had
almost gone out, and only tiny W1sp OF flame was
Pickering in the draft from the open door. Carnabv
was he had closed that door
He sprang to it and pecred There nothing
to be seen in the pitch backness. there any
sound except the noise Of the wind and the of
the river below. His slecpiness gone entirely
now. and in its stead only desire to get back 70
camp and the pleasant noise OF Macs hearty shores
He threw wood the diving fire, and then as II
caught the flame showed him for an instant some
thing looking in at the low window 1t gone in a
second, but in that second Carnaby learned what
fear was-dumb fear that grips the heart and leaves
a man trembling and weak
Then a idea came swiftly to his relief, and
with it his nerve returned y cougar probably had
traied him down, attracted perhaps by the scent of
the deer's head Even it might be making a
meal off his prize and at the thought fear gave place
hot-foot energy. He gathered the remaining
shingles in a bunch held them in the fire until they
bazed then waving his torch above his head rushed
down the path to the shore.
He found the head as he had left it. and jumping
into the boat showed off from the shore. Then with
his torch raised he tried pierce the thick darkness
of the wooded banks listening intently for any sound
There none, and throwing the stump of his torch
into the water he started rowing
The rain had ceased to his comfort. but the night
blindingy dark and only by skirng
the shore could he make his direction Far
the mountain animal CRYING mournfullv
like lost child and the sound chill his heart
Never in his life had he felt utterly alone and
vet unreasOnably conscious of horror lurking in
the backness of the timber of horror waiting
him off at every point of land The dim shore seemed
peoped with vague shapes and he kept a
watch ahead lest he should come in closer some
oututting point Now and then he stopped to listen
For sometime he heard nothing. and then in of his
pa1ses he heard the cracking of dead branch under
the weight of some heavy animal. The sound ceased
in a moment, and not until he iumed rowing did
he hear ii again.
He rowed onward. but with attentive ear cooked
for the slightest sound and keenlv alert
Time passed still there nothing except the tapping
of the water the shore the breath of the wind
in the trees, then he heard again a ruStling in the
bushes and stealthy of sonnet hing through
the underbrush- something that was following him
lying in wait, something that stopped when he
stopped when he on
1t unpleasant Sensation-that of being
tra1led and watched by invisible tracktr, and
Carnaby thought he knew somewhat the feelings
of the buck he had staked and killed that morning
1t seemed curious turnabout that he should now
be the hunted.
He was not afraid exactly it was probably the
cougar which had disturbed his sleep in the cabin
and following along the bank of the lake in esper
ate hope of getting in a share of the ceers
head II1t WAS he, irJic