earing near us, or can some
little one have strayed from its parents?”

“Such things frequently happen,” returned Louisa. “Let us follow the
sounds: it may be a wanderer starving on the hill.” More than once
Elizabeth was on the point of announcing that she saw the sufferer, when
Louisa caught her by the arm, and, pointing behind them, cried,--

“Look at the dog!”

Brave had been their companion from the time the voice of his young
mistress lured him from his kennel to the present moment. His advanced
age had long before deprived him of his activity; and when his
companions stopped to view the scenery, or to add to their bouquets,
the mastiff would lay his huge frame on the ground, and await their
movements, with his eyes closed, and a listlessness in his air that ill
accorded with the character of a protector.

But when aroused by this cry from Louisa, Miss Temple turned, she saw
the dog with his eyes keenly set on some distant object, his head bent
near the ground, and his hair actually rising on his body, through
fright or anger. It was most probably the latter, for he was growling in
a low key, and occasionally showing his teeth, in a manner that would
have terrified his mistress, had she not so well known his good
qualities.

“Brave!” she said. “Be quiet, Brave! what do you see, fellow?”

At the sound of her voice, the rage of the mastiff, instead of being at
all diminished, began to increase. He stalked in front of the ladies,
and seated himself at the feet of his mistress, growling louder than
before, and occasionally giving vent to his ire by a short, surly
barking.

“What does he see?” said Elizabeth. “There must be some animal in
sight.”

Hearing no answer from her companion, Miss Temple turned her head, and
beheld Louisa standing with her face whitened to the color of death, and
her finger pointing upwards. The quick eye of Elizabeth glanced in the
direction indicated by her friend, where she saw the fierce front and
glaring eyes of a female panther, fixed on them and thre