Chapter XVI
"INJUN PETE"
Nan Sherwood could not cry out, though she tried. She opened her
lips only to find her throat so constricted by fear that she
could not utter a sound. Perhaps her sudden and utter paralysis
was of benefit at the moment, after all; for she could not
possibly have escaped the infuriated lynx by running.
The creature's own movements were hampered by the deep drift in
which she had landed. The soft snow impeded the cat and,
snarling still, she whirled around and around like a pinwheel to
beat a firmer foundation from which to make her final spring at
her victim.
Nan, crouching, put her mittened hands before her face. She saw
no chance for escape and could not bear to see the vicious beast
leap at her again. "Momsey! Papa Sherwood!" she thought, rather
than breathed aloud.
Then, down the hill toward her, plunged a swift body. She rather
felt the new presence than saw it. The cat yowled again, and
spit. There was the impact of a clubbed gun upon the creature's
head.
"Sacre bleu! Take zat! And zat!" cried a sharp voice, between
the blows that fell so swiftly. The animal's cries changed
instantly from rage to pain. Nan opened her eyes in time to see
the maddened cat flee swiftly.
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