Lifting the deer out of the boat, we hung it up on a pole between two
trees, and then, brightening up the fire, sat around telling stories
until old Father Nod began to remind us that it was 3 A.M., and not
breakfast-time. Just then there came the most blood-curdling scream I
have ever heard, and it seemed so near us that we all jumped to our feet
and made a dash for the guns. Our old guide reassured us by saying that
it was only a "painter," and he was "across the river." In the morning
we went over early, and there, sure enough, were his tracks in the sand,
looking very much like the prints of the palm of a boy's hand, with a
row of little holes on one side where the claws stuck in. I am sure that
if the author of "Wild Neighbors" had been with our party he would not
have been so sceptical about a panther's ability to scream. We will
forgive him because he tells so many good stories in this interesting
book of his.
"OLD MOTHER EARTH," by Josephine Simpson and "THE STORY OF WASHINGTON,"
by Jessie R. Smith.
The first-named book is without doubt one of the very best in its line.
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