The fire was to them the magnet that the snake is to the fascinated bird.

He longed then for his gun, the faithful little rifle that was reposing on the hooks over his bed in his father's house.

"I'd make you cry for something," he said to himself, looking at the largest of the panthers.
The animals lingered, glaring at the boys and the fire with great red eyes, and presently Henry, doing as he had done on a former occasion, picked up a blazing torch and, shouting, rushed at them.
The panthers sprang headlong through the undergrowth, in their eagerness to get away from the terrible flaming vision that was darting down upon them.

Their flight was so quick that they disappeared in an instant and Henry knew they would not venture near the site of the fire again in a long time.

He turned back and found Paul surprised and alarmed standing erect and rubbing his eyes.
"Why--why--what's the matter ?" cried Paul.
"Oh, it's nothing," replied Henry.
Then he told about the panthers.