At last he made out a long, tawny shape on a low-lying bough of a tree at the very edge of the forest.

The shape was flattened against the bough and almost blended with it.
"A panther!" whispered Paul.
Henry nodded.

It was, in fact, a large specimen of the panther or southern cougar, and Henry whispered again: "See what he is after!" A small colt from the herd had wandered dangerously near to the forest and the bough on which the cougar lay, watching him with the yellow, famished eyes of the great, hungry cat.
"Shoot him, Henry! Shoot him!" whispered Paul.

"You can reach him with a bullet from here.

Don't let him kill the poor, little colt!" "I'd do it if it were needed," replied Henry, "but I don't think it will be.