Yow!  Yow!  Yowl!

Yan stood still.  The dog, although a large and powerful retriever, whimpered, trembled and crawled up close.

The sound increased in volume.  The yowling meouw came louder, louder and nearer, then suddenly clear and close, as though the creature had rounded a point and entered an opening.  It was positively blood-curdling now.  The dog could stand it no more; he turned and went as fast as he could for home, leaving Yan to his fate.  There was no longer any question that it was a Lynx.  Yan had felt nervous before and the abject flight of the dog reacted on him.  He realized how defenseless he was, still weak from his illness, and he turned and went after the dog.  At first he walked.  But having given in to his fears, they increased; and as the yowling continued he finally ran his fastest.  The sounds were left behind, but Yan never stopped until he had left the Glen and was once more in the open valley of the river.  Here he found the valiant retriever trembling all over.  Yan received him with a contemptuous kick, and, boylike, as soon as he could find some stones, he used them till Grip was driven home.

* * * * *

Most lads have some sporting instinct, and his elder brother, though not of Yan’s tastes, was not averse to going gunning when there was a prospect of sport.

Yan decided to reveal to Rad the secret of his glen.  He had never been allowed to use a gun, but Rad had one, and Yan’s vivid account of his adventure had the desired effect.  His method was characteristic.

[Illustration:  “It surely was a Lynx.”]

“Rad, would you go huntin’ if there was lots to hunt?”

“Course I would.”

“Well, I know a place not ten miles away where there are all kinds of wild animals—­hundreds of them.”

“Yes, you do, I don’t think.  Humph!”

“Yes, I do; and I’ll tell you, if you will promise never to tell a soul.”

“Ba-ah!”

“Well, I just had an adventure with a Lynx up there now, and if you will come with your gun we can get him.”

Then Yan related all that had passed, and it lost nothing in his telling.  His brother was impressed enough to set out under Yan’s guidance on the following Saturday.

Yan hated to reveal to his sneering, earthy-minded brother all the joys and sorrows he had found in the Glen, but now that it seemed compulsory he found keen pleasure in playing the part of the crafty guide.  With unnecessary caution he first led in a wrong direction, then trying, but failing, to extort another promise of secrecy, he turned at an angle, pointed to a distant tree, saying with all the meaning he could put into it:  “Ten paces beyond that tree is a trail that shall lead us into the secret valley.”  After sundry other ceremonies of the sort, they were near the inway, when a man came walking through the bushes.  On his shoulders he carried something.  When he came close, Yan saw to his deep disgust that that something was the Lynx—­yes, it surely was his Lynx.