Page:Edison Marshall--Shepherds of the wild.djvu/19

Rh cry. It was also a distinctive sound: and no wonder the little chipmunk paused in his scurried occupations to listen to it. Even to the addled brain of the squirrel it suggested annoyance and anger,—a quality possessed by the snarl of the puma when it had missed its stroke. No wonder Spread Horn had fled. The figure was none other than that tall harbinger of death and peril, man.

"It was an elk," the man cried. "You've missed your chance."

Some one stretched on the grass at his feet answered with a half-snarl. "To hell with the elk," he replied. "You've tipped over the last quart."