As it was, I felt very, very queer; take to my heels I could not, and the panther would not leave her cub behind; on the contrary, she continued making a circle round me, I turning with her, and with my rifle pointed towards her.
As we both turned, with eyes straining at each other, inch by inch I slowly raised my rifle, till the butt reached my shoulder; I caught the sight and held my breath.

The cub, in jumping, hurt itself, and mewed; the mother answered by an angry growl, and just as she was about to spring, I fired; she stumbled backwards, and died without a struggle.

My ball, having entered under the left eye, had passed through the skull, carrying with it a part of the brain.
It was a terrific animal; had I missed it, a single blow from her paw would have crushed me to atoms.

Dead as it was, with its claws extended, as if to seize its prey, and its bleeding tongue hanging out, it struck me with awe.

I took off the skin, hung it to a tree, and securing the cub, I hastened home, having lost my appetite for fishing or a fish-supper for that evening.
A week after this circumstance, a company of traders arrived from St.
Louis.