"Eben walked up in front with his club, and Nat crept up behind. When the cat saw Eben, it growled and switched its tail round, and raised up the snow in little clouds. It lay there with its paws on the deer and its head raised, growling at Eben, who felt pretty shaky. Nat crept up behind the cat and gave it a blow with his axe that cut its backbone in two." "That was an awful p-plucky thing to do." "It was a most unfortunate thing for my mother." "How's that?" "Why, it made me just wild to go bear-hunting with them. I kept plaguing mother to let me go. She used to say, 'Pshaw, boy, you'd run if you saw a bear.' One night I had been pestering her worse than usual. She left the room, and soon after I heard something bumping round outside. The door flew open, and in walked a bear, which came at me, growling. I grabbed a pine knot that was handy and hit the beast on the head, and over it rolled. The bearskin fell off, and there lay my mother stretched out on the floor. I was afraid I had killed her, and ran and got a pail of water and threw it on her. She came to, and sat up in a kind of a daze. [Sidenote: MARTIN'S MOTHER PLAYED BEAR] "'What's the matter? Have I been in the river?' "'No, mother, you played you was a bear, and I hit you over the head; I'm awful sorry.' "'Don't say a word more, Johnny. Don't say a word more. I was an old fool. Serves me right.' "She got up, threw the bearskin in the corner, and went about her work. In the morning I asked her again if I could go bear-hunting with the boys. "She put her hands on her hips, looked at me, and laughed to herself, and then she said:-- "'Yes, Johnny, you can go. But be sure and take a club with you. I think you'll be a great help.'" Just as Martin had finished his story we heard a series of the most terrific screeches and caterwauls. "Heavens and earth, man," said Hector, "what's that? That must be the father of all cats." "That's just what he is, and you'll think so to-morrow when you see him. That is, if he don't get away. That's what we call a bob-cat. The French call them lucivees; and he's the biggest cat in the country, except the catamount. It's just as well to leave him alone over-night. We don't want to go fooling round him in the dark." "Weel, mon, generally speaking I have nae fear of a cat; but if this one has claws and teeth like his screech, I think we'd better defer our veesit till the morrow. And it's surprising to me how comfortable we all are out here in the forest in the dead of winter. 'Deed, if Donald and I were out here alone, we'd be freezing; and here we are as happy as kings." "Yes, and a bagpiper at hand with his music." "Now, Benny, don't run the bagpipes down. They're a grand instrument. Our friend down there does very well in his way; but he hasna the science. And I was thinking that all we'll be wanting is a little gude peat in the fire. The peat makes a bonny fire. We're no so wasteful of wood as you are." [Sidenote: THE LAIRD OF INVERAWE]