leaped upon the meat.

It fell with a crash against the stove, and the two were awakened
simultaneously. As Jacques sprang from the bed, the animal backed,
dragging the quarter of venison toward the door. He collided with
it, knocking the billet of wood outside, and the latch fell into
place with a clash.

Finding himself a prisoner, the creature advanced, spitting and
growling, straight at Jacques, who, crying, _"Loup cervier! loup
cervier!"_ retreated to the bed.

But the pursuit did not end there. Seeing that the beast was about
to leap upon the bed, the Canadian hastily climbed one of the
posts, not a second too soon, and ensconced himself on the edge of
the canopy top, with his back pressed against the timbers of the
loft floor above.

Ray had been too much amazed to interfere at first, but now the
time seemed ripe to reopen the door and drive the lynx out. He made
a rush, but the angry creature turned and dashed at his legs so
viciously that in a couple of seconds he, too, found himself
perched precariously on the canopy of his own bed, with "prick-ears"
spitting and snarling on the coverlet.

"Can that beast climb up here, like a cat?" he asked, with no
little anxiety in his tones.

_"Oui,"_ was the reply, "he can; but _loup cerviers_ don'
climb mooch."