It was habitual with me to carry my rifle over my shoulder, or rested across the pommel of my saddle: in either case, always in hand. It was but the work of a moment to get the piece ready. The pressure of the muzzle against my horse's ear, was a signal well understood; and at once rendered him as immobile as if made of bronze. Many years of practice-- during which I had often aimed at higher game--had steeled my nerves and straightened my sight. Both proved sufficiently true for the destruction of the couguar. Quick after the crack, I saw his red body roll back from the log; and, when the smoke thinned off, I could see the animal writhing upon the ground. Why the couguar had fallen to my side, I could not tell: for he was fairly on the ridge of the dead-wood when I fired. Perhaps, on receiving the shot, he had fancied that it came from the only enemy visible to him; and, by an instinct impelling him to escape, had tumbled off in the opposite direction. I perceived that he was not yet dead. He was still wriggling about among the branches; but it was clear that the piece of lead had taken the "spring" out of him. The bullet had passed through his spine, crashing the column in twain. After playing upon him with my revolving pistol, until I had emptied three or four of its chambers, I had the satisfaction of seeing him give his last spasmodic "kick." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ What followed, I leave to the imagination of my reader. Suffice it to say, that the incident proved my friend. The ice of indifference was broken; and I was rewarded for my sleight-of-hand prowess by something more than smiles--by words of praise that rang melodiously in my ear-- words of gratitude spoken with the free innocent naivete of childhood-- revealing, on the part of her who gave utterance to them, a truly grateful heart. I rode back with my fair protegee across the track of fallen timber--I could have gone with her to the end of the world! The tortuous path hindered me from holding much converse with her: only, now and then, was there opportunity for a word. I remember little of what was said--on my side, no doubt, much that was commonplace; but even _her_ observations I can recall but confusedly. The power of love was upon me, alike absorbing both soul and sense--engrossing every thought in the contemplation of the divine creature by my side I cared not to talk-- enough for me to look and listen. I did not think of questioning her as to whence she had come. Even her name was neither asked nor ascertained! Whither she was going was revealed only by the accident of conversation. She was on her way to visit some one who lived on the other side of the creek--some friend of her father. Would that I could have claimed to be her father's friend-- his relative--his son!