had to be called at each hundred yards.

They were at last in the dense Hemlock woods at the upper end of the
valley, when a peculiar sound like the call of a deep-voiced cat was
heard.

_Yow! Yow! Yowl!_

Yan stood still. The dog, although a large and powerful retriever,
whimpered, trembled and crawled up close.

The sound increased in volume. The yowling _meouw_ came louder,
louder and nearer, then suddenly clear and close, as though the
creature had rounded a point and entered an opening. It was positively
blood-curdling now. The dog could stand it no more; he turned and went
as fast as he could for home, leaving Yan to his fate. There was no
longer any question that it was a Lynx. Yan had felt nervous before
and the abject flight of the dog reacted on him. He realized how
defenseless he was, still weak from his illness, and he turned and
went after the dog. At first he walked. But having given in to his
fears, they increased; and as the yowling continued he finally ran his
fastest. The sounds were left behind, but Yan never stopped until he
had left the Glen and was once more in the open valley of the river.
Here he found the valiant retriever trembling all over. Yan received
him with a contemptuous kick, and, boylike, as soon as he could find
some stones, he used them till Grip was driven home.

* * * * *

Most lads have some sporting instinct, and his elder brother, though