The cougar, left to itself, soon ceased its struggles, and lay upon the ground, to all appearance, dead.
But what of the other?
As all three stood listening, the snorting and stamping of horses fell upon their ears, and above all was heard the squealing of the mule Jeanette! This lasted for a few minutes, and at length all was silent as before.
"Poor Jeanette!" thought they.

"The other has made a meal of her.
Well--we must do without her, that's all." They kept watch until daybreak, still fearful that the cougar might come back for its mate.

The rain had now begun to fall, and poured down in torrents, drowning out their fires.

They did not attempt to rekindle them; but stood, with their blankets around their shoulders, sheltering themselves as they best could under the trees.
When the daylight came, what was their surprise as well as joy to see Jeanette quietly browsing at the end of her trail-rope, and close by her the body of the cougar lying dead upon the ground! It had been wounded by the shots; but that, as they soon ascertained, was not the cause of its death, for its body was crushed and its ribs broken! For some time they could not understand this.

At length, however, it was explained to them.