The dogs set off in pursuit with great eagerness, and in deafening cry. The hunter who had fired came up and said that his ball had hit the monster, and had probably broken one of its forelegs, near the shoulder, the only place at which he could aim. A slight trail of blood was discovered on the ground, but the curs proceeded at such a rate that we merely noticed this and put spurs to our horses, which galloped on towards the centre of the swamp.

One bayou was crossed, then another still larger and more muddy, but the dogs were brushing forward, and as the horses began to pant at a furious rate, we judged it expedient to leave them and advance on foot. Those determined hunters knew that the cougar, being wounded, would shortly ascend another tree, where in all probability he would remain for a considerable time, and that it would be easy to follow the track of the dogs.

!

We dismounted, took off the saddles and bridles, set the bells attached to the horses' necks at liberty to jingle, hoppled them, and left them to shift for themselves. Now, kind reader, follow the group marching through the swamp, crossing muddy parts, and making the best of their way over fallen trees, and amongst the tangled rushes that now and then covered acres of ground.

After marching for a couple of hours, we again

heard the dogs; each of us pressed forward, elated at the thought of terminating the career of the cougar. Some of the dogs were heard whining, although the greater number barked vehemently. We felt assured that the cougar was treed, and that he would rest for some time to recover from his fatigue. As we came up with the dogs, we discovered the ferocious animal, lying across a large branch, close to the trunk of a cotton wood tree.

His broad breast lay towards us; his eyes were at one time bent on us and again on the dogs beneath and around him; one of his forelegs hung loosely by his side, and he lay crouched with his ears lowered close to his head, as if he thought he might remain undiscovered. Three balls were fired at him at a given signal, on which he sprang a few feet from the branch, and tumbled headlong to the ground, attacked on all sides by the enraged curs.

The infuriated cougar fought with desperate valor; but the squatter advancing in front of the party, and, almost in the midst of the dogs, shot him immediately behind and beneath the left shoulder. The cougar writhed for a moment in agony, and in another lay dead.

-JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.

THE BIOGRAPHY OF A BEAVER

I

A broad, flat tail came down on the water with a whack that sent the echoes flying back and forth across the pond, and its owner ducked his head, arched his back, and dived to the bottom. It was a very curious tail, for besides being so oddly paddleshaped it was covered with what looked like scales, but were really sections and indentations of hard, horny, blackish-gray skin. Except its owner's relations, there was no one else in all the animal kingdom who had one like it. But the strangest thing about it was the many different ways in which he used it. Just now it was his rudder-and a very good rudder, too.

In a moment his little brown head reappeared, and he and his brothers and sisters went chasing each other round and round the pond, ducking and diving and splashing, raising such a commotion that they sent the ripples washing all along the grassy shores, and having the jolliest kind of a time. When the youngsters wanted a change, they climbed up on to a log, and nudged and hunched each other, poking

their noses into one another's fat little sides, and each trying to shove his brother or sister back into the water.

By and by they scrambled out on the bank, and then, when their fur had dripped a little, they set to work to comb it. Up they sat on their hind legs and tails the tail was a stool now, you see and scratched their heads and shoulders with the long brown claws of their small, black, hairy hands. Then the hind feet came up one at a time, and combed and stroked their sides till the moisture was gone and the fur was soft and smooth and glossy as velvet.

After that they had to have another romp. They were not half as graceful on land as they had been in the water. In fact they were not graceful at all, and the way they stood around on their hind legs, and shuffled and pranced and wheeled like baby hippopotamuses, and slapped the ground with their tails, was one of the funniest sights in the heart of the woods. And the funniest and liveliest of them all was the one whom I shall now call the Beaverwith a big B.

The first year of his life was an easy one, especially the winter, when there was little for anyone to do except to eat, to sleep, and now and then to fish for the roots of the yellow waterlily in the soft mud at the bottom of the pond. During that season he

probably accomplished more than his parents did, for if he could not toil he could at least grow.

But later, on a dark autumn night, behold the young Beaver working with might and main. His parents have felled a tree, and it is his business to help them cut up the best portions and carry them home. He gnaws off a small branch, seizes the butt end between his teeth, swings it over his shoulder and makes for the water, keeping his head twisted around to the right or left so that the end of the branch may trail on the ground behind him.

Sometimes he even rises on his hind legs, and walks almost upright, with his broad, strong tail for a prop to keep him from tipping over backward if his load happens to catch on something. Arrived at the canal or at the edge of the pond, he jumps in and swims for town, still carrying the branch over his shoulder, and finally leaves it on the growing pile in front of his father's lodge.

These were his first tasks. Later on he learned to fell trees himself. Standing on his hind legs and tail, with his hands braced against the trunk, he would hold his head sidewise, open his mouth wide, set his teeth against the bark, and bring his jaws together with a savage nip that left a deep gash in the side of the tree. A second nip deepened the gash, and gave it more of a downward slant, and two or