Just below where the puma was crouching down ready to make his fatal spring, lay the form of the old seaman; but whether he was dead, or asleep, or fainting, we could not tell.  There was not a moment to be lost.  In another instant the savage brute would have fixed his claws in his throat.  We rushed on--so did old Surley.  The puma had actually begun his spring when we fired.  Both our bullets took effect, but still he leaped forward.  He fell close to Fleming.  Our shipmate sprang up on his knees, but it was only to receive the claws of the brute on his chest.  The blow knocked him over.  We were running on and shouting all the time, to distract the attention of the puma.