But at his first backward step the beast let out such a fierce growl, and came on with such a menacing leap that Tom stood still in very terror.  The animal was now so close to him that a short jump would hurl the beast upon the lad.

“This won’t do,” thought Tom.  “Every time I go back one step he comes on two, and it won’t take him long to catch up to me.  And then, too, he’ll be in the tent in another minute, clawing Ned or Mr. Damon.  What can I do?  Oh, for a gun!”

He stood still, and this seemed to suit the animal, for it remained quiet.  But it never took its eyes off Tom, and the switching tail, and the low growls now and then, plainly indicated that the beast was but waiting its time to leap and give the death blow.

Then an idea came to Tom.  He remembered that he had once read that the human voice had a wonderful effect on wild animals.  He would try it.

“And I’m not going to sing him any slumber song, either,” mused Tom.  “I’ll start on a low tone to call for Ned, and gradually raise my voice until I wake him up.  Then I’ll tell Ned to draw a bead on the beast and plunk him while I hold his attention.”

Tom lost no time in putting his plan into operation.

“Ned!  Ned!  Say, old man, wake up!  I’m in trouble!  There’s a beast as big as a lion out here.  Ned!  Ned!  Ned!”

Tom began in a low voice, but increased his tones with each word.  At first the beast seemed uneasy, and then it stepped switching its tail and just glared at Tom.

“Ned!  I say Ned!  Wake up!”

Tom listened.  All was silent within the tent.

“Ned!  Oh, Ned!”

Louder this time, but still silence.

“Hey, Ned!  Are you ever going to wake up!  Get your gun!  Your gun!  Shoot this beast!  Ned!  Ned!”

Tom waited.  It seemed as if the beast was nearer to him.  He called once more.

“Ned!  Ned!” He was fairly shouting now.  Surely some one must hear him.

“What’s that?  What’s the matter?  Tom?  Where are you?”

It was Ned’s voice—­a sleepy voice—­and it came from the interior of the tent.

“Here!” called Tom.  “Out in front—­by the fire—­get your gun, and get him with the first shot, or it’s all up with yours truly.”

“Get who with the first shot.  Who are you talking about?”

“This cougar!  Hurry Ned, he’s creeping nearer!”

Tom heard a movement behind him.  He dared not turn his head, but he knew it was his chum.  Then he heard a gasp and he knew that Ned had seen the beast.  Then all Tom could do was to wait.  And it was not easy waiting.  At any moment the beast might spring, and, as far as he was concerned it would be all over.

Nearer and nearer crept the brute.  Again Tom felt that queer sensation down his spine.

“Hurry, Ned,” he whispered.

“All right,” came back the reassuring answer.

There was a moment of silence.