best target possible for the marksman below.

But Jack preferred not to fire his gun, for the reason that the
report was likely to be heard by more dangerous enemies. His
purpose was to refrain from doing so, unless forced to shoot in self
defense, and his pride would not permit him to deviate a
hair's-breadth from the path in order to escape the necessity of
shooting.

He walked with the deliberate, noiseless tread of an Indian, looking
steadily upward at the eyes which assumed a curious, phosphorescent
glare, that scintillated with a greenish light, as the relative
position of the enemies changed.

The lad passed under the limbs staring unflinchingly aloft. When
exactly beneath, the cougar was hidden for an instant from sight,
but, recognizing the changing conditions, he quickly lifted his head
to the right, and the lad again saw the greenish glare, the white
teeth, and blood red mouth. He traced the outlines of the sinewy
body close along the limb, and through which he could have driven a
bullet with fatal certainty. The "painter," whose scream is often
mistaken for the cry of a human being, uttered an occasional
snarling growl as he looked down on the lad. His attitude and
manner seemed to say: "I've got my eye on you, young man! Walk very
straight or you will find yourself in trouble."

The probability that a cougar is gathering his muscles on a limb
with the intention of bounding down on one's shoulders, is enough to
make the bravest man uneasy. Jack Carleton did feel a creeping
chill, but the same pride which prevented him deviating a