A sudden light just then broke in upon young Munson. He was looking off in the direction of the sound, when the phosphorescent gleam of a pair of eyes shot out from the darkness upon him. There was a greenish glare in the unexpected appearance that left no doubt of their identity. Instead of Indians, as he had imagined at first, there was some kind of a wild animal that was prowling about them. None of the Apaches had entered the cave at all--only a single beast. But where had he come from? By what means had he entered the cave? These were very significant questions, of the greatest importance to the two who were shut within the subterranean prison. Fred did not feel himself competent to answer, so he reached over and shook Mickey harder than ever, determined that he should arouse. “Come, wake up, you sleepy head,” he called out. “There might a dozen bears come down on you and eat you up, before you would open your eyes! Come, Mickey, there is need of your waking!” “Begorrah--but--there's more naad of me slaaping,” muttered the Irishman, gradually recalling his senses. “I was in the midst of a beautiful draam, in which there came two lovely females, that looked like Bridget O'Flaherty and Molly McFizzle. Both were smiling in their winsome way on me, and both were advancing to give me a swaat kiss, or a crack over the head, I don't know which, when, just before they raiched me, you sticks out your paw and gives me a big shake. Arrah, ye spalpeen, why did ye do that?” “Didn't you hear me say there was something in the cavern? I thought there were a couple of Apaches at first, but I guess it is a wild animal.” The Irishman was all attention on the instant, and he started bolt upright. “Whisht! what's that ye're saying? Will ye plaze say it over again?” The lad hurriedly told him that an animal of some kind was lurking near them. Mickey caught up his rifle, and demanded to know where he was. In such darkness as enveloped them it was necessary that the eyes of the beast should be at a certain angle in order to become visible to the two watchers. Both heard his light footsteps, and knew where the eyes were likely to be discerned. “_There he is!_” exclaimed Fred, as he caught sight of the green, phosphorescent glitter of the two orbs, which is peculiar to the eyes of the feline species. Mickey detected them at the same moment, and drew his rifle to his shoulder. He kept the kneeling position, fearing that the target would vanish if he should wait until he could rise. It is no easy thing for a hunter to take aim when he is utterly unable to detect the slightest portion of his weapon, and it was this fact which caused Mickey to delay his firing. However, before he could make his aim any way satisfactory, a bright thought struck him, and he lowered his gun, carefully letting the hammer down upon the tube. “Ain't you going to fire?” asked the lad, who could not understand the delay. “Whisht, now! would ye have me slay me best friend?”