The chasm came to an end twenty yards farther on in a sharp wall, over the shoulder of which, we inferred from the hollowed place at its foot, the torrents poured in the rainy season. Against my advice, we went back again to the river, and kept on up its course. In a little while Braulio found the tracks of the jaguar on the shingle, this time going down to the edge of the water. We must find out if the beast had gone across the river, or if, as was most probable, hindered by the current, here very heavy and swift, he had kept on up the river along the bank where we were. Braulio strapped his rifle to his back, and waded across the stream; he had attached a rope to his belt, and José held the end of it so as to prevent a false step from causing his nephew to plunge over the cascade just at hand. We maintained a profound silence, repressing the impatient whining of the dogs.
“Not a track here,” said Braulio, after examining the sand and the thicket. Just then he stood up, about to return to us, and poising himself on the top of a rock, motioned us to be quiet. He seized his rifle, threw it to his shoulder, aimed as if to shoot at something among the rocks at our side, leaned lightly forward, cool and quiet, and fired.
“There he is!” he shouted, pointing to the bushes growing among the rocks, into which we could not see; then he leaped down to the water’s edge and added:
“Keep the rope taut! Let the dogs go up there!”
The dogs seemed to understand what had happened. Scarcely had we loosed them when they disappeared in the gorges at our right, while José was helping Braulio across the river.
“Keep quiet!” said Braulio, as soon as he gained the bank; and while he was hurriedly loading his rifle he added, seeing me, “You come with me, young master.”
The dogs were already close on the prey, and it seemed as if the brute were not finding it easy to get away, since the barking all came from one point. Braulio took a lance from José’s hand, saying to us two: “You go above and below to guard this pass, for the jaguar will double on his trail if he gets away from us where he is. Tiburcio will stay with you.”
Then he said to Lucas, “We two will go round and come out on top of the hill.”
With his usual sweet smile, and with the coolest manner, he finished loading his rifle.
“It’s a dear little cat, and I hit him.” As he said this we separated. José, Tiburcio, and I climbed upon a convenient rock. Tiburcio kept looking at the priming of his rifle. José was all eyes. From where we were we could see all that was happening on the hill, and could guard the pass as requested, for there were but few trees intervening, though they were large ones.
Of the six dogs two were already hors de combat; one of them lying mangled at the feet of the fierce animal; the other, with entrails protruding between broken ribs, had come to find us, and giving forth the most heartrending cries, died at the foot of the rock upon which we had climbed. With his side turned to a clump of oaks, his tail playing about like a serpent, his back erect, his eyes flaming, and his teeth bared, the jaguar was uttering hoarse cries, and as he threw his enormous head about, his ears made a noise something like castanets. As he turned about, worried by the dogs, who were not much injured although not wholly unharmed, we could see that his left flank was bleeding; he tried to lick it from time to time, but this only gave the pack an advantage in rushing at him.
Braulio and Lucas appeared, emerging from the gorge and coming out upon the hill, though a little farther from the brute than we were; Lucas was livid. There was thus a triangle formed by the hunters and their game, so that both groups could fire at the same time without danger of injuring each other.
“Let’s all fire together!” shouted José.
“No, no; we’ll hit the dogs!” replied Braulio; then he left his companion and was lost to our sight.
I thought that a general volley would end the matter; but it was almost certain that some of the dogs would be killed, and if, by any chance, the jaguar should not be finished, it would be easy for him to play the mischief with us if all our weapons were discharged.
Suddenly Braulio’s head appeared rising out of the gorge, a little behind the trees which protected the jaguar in the rear; his mouth was half-opened with his panting, his eyes were dilated, his hair was flying. In his right hand he carried the couched lance, and with his left he was pushing away the twigs which prevented him from seeing clearly.
We all stood silent; the very dogs appeared absorbed in the end of the adventure.
At last José shouted, “At him! Kill-lion, at him! Biter, Strangler, at him!”
It would not do to give the jaguar a breathing-spell; and setting on the dogs would make Braulio’s risk smaller. The dogs renewed their attack all together. One more of them fell dead without a sound. The jaguar gave a horrible yell. Braulio was seen behind the clump of oaks, nearer to us, grasping the handle of the lance, from which the blade had been broken. The brute swung around in search of him. He shouted, “Fire, fire!” and leaped back
