panther, all in one day and night!"
"That is certainly piling it on some," admitted Dave. "But to-morrow may pass without a thing doing."
"More than likely," returned Roger. "Things always happen in bunches, you know."
The boys examined the cougar with interest. It was about four and a half feet in length and not unlike a young lion in appearance. It had been hit in the face and in the forelegs, and had died hard. Evidently it had hoped to carry off the slain deer while the young hunters slept.
"A cougar has been known to carry off a little child," said Dave. "They are very crafty as well as brave, and will attack both a horse and a man. I think we can count ourselves lucky to come out of this fight without a scratch."
"No more sleeping for me without a guard," said Roger. "Let us take turns at staying up and looking after the fire and the horses." And to this the others readily agreed.
Morning found them still tired out and willing enough to rest. They got a late breakfast and tethered the horses in a new spot, and cut sufficient firewood to last for twenty-four hours. Nobody thought of doing anything until after lunch, and then Roger suggested they try their hand at fishing in a mountain brook which ran down between the two hills.
"All right," answered Dave. "But do you think we ought to leave the camp all alone?"
"Oh, I don't think anybody will hurt it in the daylight," answered the senator's son.
They had to tramp about a quarter of a mile to reach the stream and then an equal distance to gain a spot that looked suited to their purpose. Phil was the first to throw in, and was rewarded almost immediately by a bite.
"This looks as if it was worth while," said Dave, and baited up. Fish were there in plenty, and for an hour the boys amused themselves to their hearts' content. By that time each had a string of fifteen to twenty mountain brook trout of fair size.
"We'll have a dandy fish supper!" cried Roger, smacking his lips.
"It will be a change from the venison, and I'll be glad of it," returned Dave.
"I am going to try my luck for a short while up the stream," called out Phil, who was some distance away from the others.
"Don't go too far," said Dave. "I am going to rest here," and he threw himself on the grass, and Roger followed his example.
The two boys left behind rested for the best part of half an hour. Then, thinking it was time for Phil to rejoin them, they called their chum's name.
No answer came back, and, walking up the stream a short distance, Dave repeated the call. Still there was no reply.
"That's queer," he told Roger. "I wonder why he doesn't reply?"
"I am sure I don't know," said the senator's son. "Let us look for him." And both started after Phil, wondering what could be wrong.
CHAPTER XXVIII
UP TO THE MOUNTAIN TOP
Dave and Roger walked up the stream a distance of several hundred yards. They continued to call Phil's name, but as before, no answer came back.
"I must confess, Roger, I don't like the looks of things," said Dave, gravely. "If Phil was all right, he'd surely answer us."
"I think so myself, Dave--unless he was only fooling us."
"I don't think he'd do that, under the circumstances. He'd know we would be greatly worried."
On walked the two chums, until they reached a point where the mountain stream came tumbling over some great rocks. Here they found Phil's fishing rod and also the string of fish he had caught.
"Gracious, Dave! Supposing some wild animal has carried him off!" ejaculated the senator's son.
Dave did not reply, for he knew not what to say. He advanced to the top of the rocks and peered over on the other side.
"There he is!" he shouted. "Phil! Phil! Are you hurt?" he called.
Only a faint moan came back, and scrambling up the rocks beside Dave, Roger saw the trouble. Phil had slipped from the rocks into the mountain torrent. In going down his legs had caught in an opening below, and there he was held, in water up to his knees, while the water from some rocks above was pouring in a steady stream over his left shoulder.
"Can't you get up, Phil?" asked Dave.
"Hel--help!" was the only answer, delivered in such a low tone that the boys on the rocks could scarcely hear it.
"He can't aid himself, that is sure," murmured Dave. "Roger, we have got to get him out of that--before that water pouring over his shoulder carries him down!"
Both boys looked around anxiously. Phil was all of fifteen feet below them and there seemed to be no way of reaching the locality short of jumping, and neither wanted to risk doing that.
"If we only had a rope," said Roger.
"We might double up a fishing line," mused Dave. Then his face brightened. "I have it--the pole!"
He ran back and speedily brought up Phil's pole, and around it he wound the line, to strengthen it and hold the joints together. Then he leaned down.
"Phil, can you take hold?" he questioned.
The youth below raised his hands feebly. But his strength was apparently gone, and he could do little to save himself.
"Hold the pole, Dave, I'll go down!" cried Roger. "But don't let me slip!"
While Dave braced himself on the rocks as best he could and gripped the pole and line, the senator's son went over the rocks and down, hand over hand. This was easy, and in a minute he stood beside Phil in the water. The torrent from above poured over his back, but to this he paid no attention. He saw that Phil was on the point of fainting, and if he sank down he would surely be drowned.
Letting go his hold on the fishing pole, Roger felt down in the water, and then discovered that Phil's feet were crossed and held by a rock that was balanced on another rock. In coming down, Phil's weight had caused the space between the two rocks to widen, then the opening had partly closed, holding the feet as if in the jaws of some big animal.
It was no easy matter for Roger to shift the upper rock, and once he slipped and went flat on his back in the water with a loud splash.
"Be careful!" warned Dave from above. "Maybe I had better come down and help you," he added.
"No, I--I'm all ri--right!" spluttered the senator's son, freeing his mouth of water.
At last one of the rocks was moved and Phil staggered forward in the water. But he was too weak to help himself and had to lean on Roger.
"You can't pull us up!" shouted the senator's son. "We'll wade down the stream a bit."
Supporting the shipowner's son, Roger commenced to move down the mountain torrent. He had to pick his way with care, for the bottom was rocky and treacherous. Dave followed along the rocks above, until a spot was gained where he could leap down. Then he and the senator's son picked up Phil between them and carried him out, and up to a patch of grass, where they set the sufferer down in the sunlight.
"We'll take off his shoes and see how his feet and ankles look," said Dave, and this was done. They found the feet and ankles slightly swollen and discolored, but not seriously injured.
"Phil, supposing Roger and I carry you back to camp?" suggested Dave. "We can make an armchair and do it easily enough."
"If it isn't too much trouble I'd be glad to have you do it," answered the boy who had slipped over the rocks. "I can't walk yet."
The