
Public-domain ebook
Around the Camp-fire
Language: en524 downloads on Project Gutenberg
Subjects
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #48986.

Public-domain ebook
Language: en524 downloads on Project Gutenberg
Subjects
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #48986.
The opening · free to read
“I’ll call this tale—
‘THE PANTHER AT THE PARSONAGE.’
“You have all seen the old parsonage at the mouth of the Keswick River. That’s a historic edifice for you! Therein was I born. There were more trees around it then than now.
“At the mature age of ten months I moved away from that neighborhood, but not before the Indian devil, as the panther is called in that region, had found me out and marked me as a foreordained antagonist.
“One bright June morning, when I was about five months old, and not yet able to be much protection to my young mother, my father set out on one of his long parochial drives, and we were left alone,—no, not quite alone; there was Susan, the kitchen-girl, for company. That constituted the garrison of the parsonage on that eventful morning,—mother, Susan, and myself.
“I cannot say I remember what took place, but I have so often been told it that I feel as if I had taken an active part. Mother and I were sitting by an open window, down-stairs, looking out on the front yard, when suddenly mother called out sharply,—
“‘Susan, Susan! Come here and see what sort of a creature this is coming through the grove!’
“There was a frightened ring in my mother’s voice which brought Susan promptly to her side.
“Just then the ‘creature,’ which was long and low and stealthy, reached the garden fence. It mounted the fence gracefully, and paused to look about.
“With a horrified gasp, mother caught me to her bosom, and whispered,—
“‘It’s a tiger!’
“‘No’m,’ cried Susan, ‘it ain’t no tiger; but it’s an Injun devil, which is pretty nigh as bad.’ And she ran and slammed down the window.
“The noise attracted the brute’s attention. He glanced our way, dropped to the ground, and crept stealthily toward the house.
“‘The attic!’ cried mother wildly. ‘All the windows down-stairs are wide open.’
“I need hardly assure you, boys, it didn’t take those two women and me very long to get up-stairs. As we reached the top we heard a crash in the parlor, and mother nearly squeezed me to death 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.
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