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The Lost Trail by Edward S. (Edward Sylvester) Ellis
page 5 of 275 (01%)

A short distance in front a white oak, whose trunk was fully two
feet in diameter, grew beside the trail which he was following. Its
shaggy limbs twisted their way across the path and among the
branches on the other side. The exuberant leaves offered such
inviting concealment to man and animal that the youth subjected them
to the keenest scrutiny.

His trot dropped to a slow walk, and he instinctively glanced at the
lock of his gun to make sure it was ready for any emergency.

Something was moving among the branches of the forest monarch, but
Jack knew it was not an Indian. No warrior would climb into a tree
to wait for his prey, when, he could secure better concealment on
the ground, where he would not be compelled to yield the use of his
legs, which play such an important part in the maneuverings of the
red man.

The lad caught several glimpses of the strange animal, and, when
within a few rods, identified it.

"It's a painter," he said to himself, with a faint smile, resuming
his slow advance and giving a sigh of relief; "I don't know whether
it is worth while to give him a shot or not."

The name "painter," so common among American hunters, is a
corruption of "panther," which is itself an incorrect application,
the genuine panther being found only in Africa and India. In South
America the corresponding animal is the jaguar, and in North America
the cougar or catamount, and sometimes the American lion.
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