Mayall awaited her approach, with his gun in readiness, until the panther came in full view, and as she settled towards the ground to make a bound up the tree he sent the contents of his gun through her head. For a few moments there was a fearful struggle among the small brush and saplings, and then she dropped lifeless and exhausted upon the ground. Mayall lost no time in loading his gun, but the young panthers, seeing their protector and provider fall, were quickly out of reach of the fearless hunter. Mayall descended to the ground just as the sun was casting his last crimson blush on the Crumhorn hills, and kindled his camp-fire on the leaves that the panther had scraped together for his funeral pile. After he had kindled his fire and made preparations for the night he then laid down near his camp-fire, where he could get a fair view of his surroundings. The shades of evening soon gathered around him. The stars shot forth in beauty one by one, and the evening dew fell in silence. Thinking the young panthers might return for their dam, he had placed her in a sleeping position in a conspicuous place, to draw them to her side if they came within sight. Mayall waited in sleepless anxiety, thinking that when the embers of his fire died away the young panthers might approach. In the midst of his watchfulness the moon arose and showed her maiden face, and walked among the stars, reflecting her borrowed light among the branches of the forest trees. Mayall was delighted with the grandeur of the scenery around him, which drew out his mind in pure devotion to Nature and Nature's God. The night seemed to pass like a pleasant dream, and the day-star began to twinkle in the east. Mayall kindled again his fire to prepare his morning repast, that he might retrace his steps to the Valley of the Otego, knowing that the hunter finds no deer in forests inhabited by panthers. The day-king soon arose and dispelled the darkness of night. Mayall went forward and circumnavigated the little lake in pursuit of the young panthers. Not finding their hiding place, he sat down on a log for a few moments to view that beautiful sheet of water, reflecting on its bosom the surrounding forest. Eolus was slumbering. Not a breath of air played over its surface, but lay like the mirror bright and fair. Mayall in his excitement viewed it as one of the lovely dimples on the face of creation, which held him for a time like a charm, until his thoughts roamed over the forest hills to his loved ones at home. He then arose and retraced his steps to the Valley of the Otego, considering the past day and night one of the most charming incidents of his past life. The war of the Revolution had now ended, and new adventurers began to visit the Valley of the Otego. Charmed with the beauty of its forests and crystal streams, they would return and soon appear with their families.