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Updated: May 11, 2025
This almost unnatural, yet quiet, intensity had behind it something besides the mere spirit of the sportsman. Such exhibitions of feeling generally have an unusual personal interest to give them point and meaning. "Yes, that's wonderful, Pourcette," he said; "but that's when the puma has things its own way. How is it when these come off?" He stroked the soft furs under his hand.
There had been no chance for aim, and the beast was only wounded. It dropped upon the man. He let the gun fall; it rolled and fell over the cliff. Then came a scene, wicked in its peril to Pourcette, for whom no aid could come, though two men stood watching the great fight Shon M'Gann, awake now, and Lawless with their guns silent in their hands.
"It's an ugly sight," said Shon, pointing to the jacket. They both looked at Pourcette, expecting him to speak. The old man reached to the coat, and, turning it so that the cut and the blood were hid, ran his hand down it caressingly. "Ah, poor Jo! poor Jo Gordineer!" he said; then he came over once more to the fire, sat down, and held out his hands to the fire, shaking his head.
We haven't told you our names. I am Sir Duke Lawless, and this is Shon M'Gann." Pourcette nodded: "I do not know how it come to me, but I was sure from the first you are his friends. He speak often of you and of two others where are they?" Lawless replied, and, at the name of Pretty Pierre, Shon hid his forehead in his hand, in a troubled way.
This almost unnatural, yet quiet, intensity had behind it something besides the mere spirit of the sportsman. Such exhibitions of feeling generally have an unusual personal interest to give them point and meaning. "Yes, that's wonderful, Pourcette," he said; "but that's when the puma has things its own way. How is it when these come off?" He stroked the soft furs under his hand.
"Faith, Lawless, there's a story worth the hearin', I'm thinkin', to every white man in this country. For the three years I was in the mounted police, I could count a story for all the days o' the calendar and not all o' them would make you happy to hear." Pourcette turned round to them. He seemed to be listening to Shon's words.
Wan by wan the lads are off." Pourcette, without any warning, began speaking, but in a very quiet tone at first, as if unconscious of the others: "Poor Jo Gordineer! Yes, he is gone. He was my friend so tall, and such a hunter! We were at the Ding Dong goldfields together.
From here I have hunted and killed them slow; but never that one with a wound in the shoulder from Jo's knife. Still, I can wait. There is nothing like patience for the hunter and for the man who would have blood for blood." He paused, and Lawless spoke. "And when you have killed that puma, Pourcette if you ever do-what then?"
Wan by wan the lads are off." Pourcette, without any warning, began speaking, but in a very quiet tone at first, as if unconscious of the others: "Poor Jo Gordineer! Yes, he is gone. He was my friend so tall, and such a hunter! We were at the Ding Dong goldfields together.
It seemed to Lawless that he could see the lithe stealthiness of its muscles and the ripple of its skin. But that was imagination, because he was too far away. He cried out, and swung his gun shoulderwards in desperation. But, at the moment, Pourcette turned sharply round, saw his danger, caught his gun, and fired as the puma sprang.
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