She drew the butt of the gun close to her shoulder; she drew back the
hammer and tried to sight along the barrel. Suddenly she saw the
tawny side of the panther directly before her--seemingly it was at
the end of the rifle barrel.

The beast was crouching to leap. Ruth did not know where Reno then
was; but she could hear him whimpering. The mastiff had been sorely
hurt and the panther was about to finish him.

And with this thought in her mind, Ruth steadied the rifle as best
she could and pulled the trigger. The sharp explosion and the shriek
of the panther seemed simultaneous. Through the little drift of smoke
she saw the creature spring; but it did not spring far. One hind leg
hung useless--there was a patch of crimson on the beaten snow--the
huge cat, snarling and yowling, was going around and around, snapping
at its own leg.

But that flurry was past in a moment. The snow-dust subsided. Ruth
had sprung to her feet, dropping the rifle, delighted for the moment
that she should have shot the panther.

But she little knew the nature and courage of the beast. On three
legs only the huge cat writhed across the clearing, having spied the
girl; and now, with a fierce scream of anger, it crouched to spring
upon Ruth. She seemed devoted to the panther's revenge, for she was
smitten with that terror which shackles voice and limb.

"Oh, Reno! Reno!" she whispered; but the sound did not pass her own
lips. The dog was not in sight He lay somewhere in the bushes,
licking his wounds. The fierce panther had bested him, and now