“Let’s hurry then,” I urged; for I knew about the old sow called Red Granny, that for three years had proved uncapturable. She kept her inaccessible house on the side of a rough mountain, making her way to it through a great pile of rock by a passage yet undiscovered. Though a good breeder, filling the woods with sandy-haired pigs, she also seemed able to teach them the secret of escape. Bub, who was an old dog, could hardly be made to run a red pig unless it was on his own side of the mountain. “’Tain’t no use to trail Red Granny,” said Len. “Ol’ Bub leads the dogs, an’ he won’t run thataway. I put him on her trail onct an’ he was out all night. When he come in next day he was too ’shamed to look at me.” “Well, let’s get somewhere,” I said, feeling the cold in spite of the sun. Then I found I had made a mistake. The first part of hog-hunting is deliberation. There was a long discussion as to the most fruitful direction. Finally little Ross, who had followed Serena, said, “Let’s go to the sow’s oak,” and to my amazement everybody agreed. “I bet that spotted sow is there with some little pigs, an’ poppie promised me one,” said Ross. The sow’s oak was a giant tree with a large hollow at the butt, big enough to furnish good shelter for a litter. For years it had been a favorite bedding-place. To find it we had to descend into a cove where there was a clear spring. All stopped for water, though everybody had taken a drink just before leaving Sam’s. The Highlander can go without a meal or two with no inconvenience, but he drinks water in season and out of season. After leaving the spring we passed around the curving side of a hill and came in sight of the tree. “Sst!” said Sam. “I see her. She’s in there, an’ she’s got pigs. Don’t crowd her now. Keep the dogs back. We don’t want her to git tore, an’ her a-sucklin’ pigs. Y’all stand out here in a circle like, so she kain’t git through if she runs, and I’ll ease up behind the tree. When ye see me bounce ’round to the front to grab her leg, ever’body an’ the dogs bear right in.” He made a wide circuit and came up behind the tree, but before he reached it Burl’s dog, Bugle, who was new at the game, gave a yelp and the sow sprang out. About a dozen tiny pigs, black-spotted and with delicate pink noses, followed her. All three of the dogs rushed forward and yapped in her face. She bristled to fight, then turned and dashed in the opposite direction, flashing by Sam and leaving him to look foolish, with a knotted rope in his hands. The dogs flew after the sow and the men followed the dogs. Little Ross began to scramble after the terrified, squealing pigs.