“Are you all right, old chap?”

Venning held on to his friend’s arm, and as they stood, the leopard screamed.

“He is quite done, old fellow.  Come and see.”

Venning went forward quietly, as if still in a daze, and they looked down on the leopard, struggling in the death-throes.  It raised its torn head, and again the scream rang out from its red jaws—­a terrible cry, and out of the forest came the answer, shrill and fearsome.  With a low growl the leopard fell forward, dead; but they could hear an animal advancing rapidly, with fierce grunts; though from what direction it was impossible to tell.

“It must be the mate,” said Compton, with an anxious look at Venning.  “How do you feel?”

“I’m all right now;” and he passed his hand over his forehead.  “I can help you this time.  If it is the mate, it will go first to its dead.”

“Then we’d better crouch down by that tree.”

They knelt side by side a little way off, with their rifles ready; but, though the noise made by the advancing animal grew louder, they could see no movement whatever.

Then an extraordinary thing occurred.  A bough above shook heavily, and a large flattened body shot down from one branch to another, tail, neck, and legs at the full stretch, alighting easily on the rounded branch.  It paused for a moment, then flew right across from one tree to another, a distance of about thirty feet, when again it gathered itself together for another flying leap to the ground, alighting with singular ease within a few paces of the spot where the dead leopard was lying.

With outstretched neck and twitching nose, it stepped to its mate, sniffed, then threw its head up with bristling hair and emitted a terrible scream of rage, ending in a harsh cough.

As Compton pressed the trigger it bounded aside, as if it had seen him, and an instant later had reached the trunk of a tree.

“Where is it?”

“Went up that tree,” said Venning, rising and stretching his neck.

“You take that side, I this.”

They moved slowly, finger on trigger and eyes swiftly scanning the branches, but they made the circuit of the tree without a glimpse of the yellow and black body that had so swiftly come and gone.

“Where the dickens has it gone?”

“Maybe into a hole up there.”

They stood staring up in bewilderment, but there was not a movement anywhere, and presently they wandered around examining the trees near.  The beast had vanished as completely as if it had been no bigger than a fly.

“Well,” said Compton, with a short laugh, “I’m going to take the skin off the dead one, before it disappears too.”

They set to work stripping the skin off the muscular body, stopping often to listen and glance around.  The work, however, was completed in peace, and then, suddenly remembering their position, they hastened to retrace their steps.  Slowly they hit off the trail, and finally arrived as far as the place where Venning had first missed his bundle.