Around the Camp-fire. Roberts Charles G. D.

in her terror for me; but Susan exclaimed almost gleefully, —

      “‘I declare, if he ain’t got in the wrong winder! Parlor door’s shut!’

      “By this time we were on the attic stairs; and the door at the foot of the stairs – a solid, old-fashioned country door – was safely bolted behind us.

      “That door was the only means of access to the attic; and on the head of the stairs we all sat down to take breath. Then in mother the anxious housewife began to reappear.

      “‘What was that the horrid brute broke in the parlor, Susan?’ she queried.

      “‘Must a’ been them dishes on the little table by the winder, ma’am,’ responded the girl.

      “And then we heard a clatter again, as the beast, in springing out of the window, knocked the fragments of pottery aside.

      “In a few moments he found another entrance. The soft pat, pat of his great furry feet could be heard on the lower stairs. He was evidently hungry, and much puzzled at our sudden disappearance.

      “We could hear him sniffing around, in and out of the bedrooms, and at last that soft, persistent tread found its way to the attic door.

      “How he did sniff about the bottom of that door till the blood of his prisoners ran cold with horror! Then he began to scratch, which was more than they could stand.

      “Terror lent them invention, and mother put me into a basket of old clothes, while she helped Susan drag a heavy bedstead to the head of the stairs. This bedstead effectually blocked the narrow stairway, and when they had piled a chest of drawers on top of it they once more felt secure.

      “All this trouble was unneeded, however, as that door, opening outward, was an insurmountable barrier to the panther.

      “In a few minutes he stole away restlessly. Then we heard some flower-pots, which stood on the window-ledge of the front bedroom, go crash on the steps below. The Indian devil was getting out of the window.

      “Now, the attic in which we had taken refuge was lighted by two windows, – a small one in the gable, looking out upon the barnyard, and the other, a very small skylight, reached by a sort of fixed step-ladder from the attic floor.

      “As soon as mother heard the animal’s claws on the side of the house, she thought of the skylight, and cried to Susan to shut it.

      “The skylight had an outer shutter of wood, which was closed in winter-time to keep the heavy snowfall from breaking the glass.

      “This shutter was now thrown back upon the roof, and the inner sash was raised a few inches for the sake of ventilation. Susan fairly flew up the ladder, and pulled out the little stick that supported the sash.

      “She had barely got the hook slipped into the staple when the panther’s round head and big light eyes appeared within a foot of her face. She gave a startled shriek, and fell down the ladder.

      “At this juncture the two women gave themselves up for lost; and mother, seizing an old curtain-pole, which lay among the attic lumber, prepared to sell my infant life at a pretty high figure.

      “All escape from the attic was blocked by the articles they had so carefully wedged into the stairway. This it would take them some time to clear.

      “They never imagined that so fierce a brute as the panther could be stopped by an ordinary sash and glass, however strong.

      “But the Indian devil is wary, and this one was suspicious of the glass. When, on attempting to put his head down through the skylight, he met with an obstacle where he did not see any, he thought he detected a trap.

      “He sniffed all over each pane, stopping every moment to eye us angrily. Then he scratched, but very gingerly, at the sash, and only tore away some splinters. The sash was stout and new.

      “At last he thrust his muzzle over roughly against the pane, and his nose went through the glass. Susan sank in a heap, while mother, with deadly purpose, grasped her curtain-pole, expecting instant attack.

      “It was not to be so, however; for which the world is much to be congratulated. The panther cut his nose pretty severely on the broken glass, and shrank back, snarling viciously.

      “He was more than ever convinced that the skylight was a trap, and would not trust his muzzle again in the opening.

      “Observing the beast’s caution, mother plucked up new hope. She remembered having read that lions and tigers were afraid of fire, and forthwith she hit on a truly brilliant expedient.

      “‘Get up, Susan,’ she commanded, ‘and be of some use. Go and light that lamp on your washstand, and bring it to me.’

      “Susan obeyed with alacrity, cheered by the thought that there was anything left to do. When the lamp was brought, mother laid the chimney aside, and turned up the wick so as to give a flaring, smoky blaze. Then she handed the lamp back to Susan.

      “‘Take it,’ she said, ‘and set it on the top of the ladder, right under the broken pane.’

      “This was too much for poor Susan.

      “‘Oh, I dasn’t – never!’ she whimpered, backing hastily out of her mistress’s reach.

      “Mother regarded her with withering scorn, then turned and looked at me, where I lay close behind her in a basket of old clothes.

      “Assuring herself that the panther could not get me in her absence, she seized the lamp and marched up the ladder with it. The panther growled most menacingly, and thrust his face down to the opening; but as the smoke and flame came under his nose, he snarled and drew back.

      “On the very topmost step did mother deposit the lamp, where it blazed right up through the broken pane. As she turned down the ladder, the panther’s claws were heard along the shingles, beating a reluctant retreat.

      “In a moment or two he was heard on the shed, and then mother opened the skylight, reached out, and clapped down the wooden shutter. Susan’s courage revived.

      “Now that the danger was over, mother picked me out of the basket, and gathered me again to her bosom, while Susan began to speculate on what the panther would be up to next. On this point she was not long left in doubt.

      “In the corner of the barnyard was a pig-pen, inhabited at the time by a pig three months old. Presently the poor little pig set up a terrific squealing, and mother and Susan rushed to the gable window.

      “As I have said before, this window commanded a view of the barnyard. The panther was on the roof of the pen, peering down through the cracks, and scratching vigorously to gain an entrance. Baby had been denied him, but pork he was determined to have.

      “The pig squealed in a way that mother trusted would alarm the neighborhood, and tried to hide himself in the straw from the reach of those pale, cruel eyes. At last the panther quitted the roof, and found the pen door. Here he paused a moment or two, suspecting another trap. Then, finding nothing suspicious, in he glided. There was one terrific squeal, and all was still.

      “I fancy mother and Susan both wept, thinking how well the fate of poor piggie might have been their own – and mine.

      “For a long while the two women kept watch at the window. At last the panther reappeared, walking very lazily, and licking his chops. He glanced at the house in a good-natured fashion, as if he bore us no grudge; cleaned his great face with one paw, sniffed the air thoughtfully in various directions, and then made off towards the woods; and we knew that our pig went with him.

      “When he was well out of sight, mother and Susan removed the barricades and forsook the attic. You may be sure they fastened every window, kept a keen outlook, and went about their work in fear and trembling.

      “When my father got home, in the middle of the afternoon, he heard the story before he could unharness the horse. Straightway he set out again, and organized a hunting-party among the neighbors. The party was armed with all sorts and conditions of weapons; but it bagged that panther before sundown, whereby was my mother much consoled. And now, have I stuck to the facts?” said Stranion, turning to Queerman.

      “To