“Climb! Climb the cliffs!” called the rams. As though he had heard it many times before, Tuk knew the sound of the puma’s soft step into the meadow. “Climb!” called the ewes and the yearlings. “Climb! Climb!” Alongside Rim, Tuk ran to the cliff, but he slowed when he heard Mouf’s cry behind him. He would not allow the puma to have his bandmate Mouf as he had allowed the eagle to have Sto. “Go ahead of me, Mouf,” Tuk said. “Climb fast!” She leaped ahead onto a ledge of the cliff face. “Keep climbing!” he called. “I’m right here.” Tuk heard a snarl and turned to see the puma and her child not far behind him. The kitten had faint spots and was not much bigger than himself, but the puma, softly golden as sunbaked grass, looked as heavy as a ram. He could climb no higher because Mouf had stopped and was blocking his way. “Climb higher, Mouf! Their footing isn’t as good as ours. As we go higher, the ledges get narrower and they will stop following us.”
