“Go after the one with the black spot on its year,” said Serena. “It’s the purtiest.” Ross tumbled after the one she pointed out and secured it. Serena took it into her apron. By that time not a pig was to be seen or heard. They were all under the leaves, behind logs, anywhere they could secrete their quivering bodies. In the distance we could hear the cry of the dogs and shouts of the men. Then the yelping ceased, and we heard the wild squeals of the captive. When we reached the spot the men were looking down on the struggling sow. She was tied by one hind leg, and the other end of the rope was made fast to a young tree. “She’ll keep all right,” said granpap, examining the knots critically. “Reckon anybody’ll find her here ’fore we git back? The woods air full o’ hunters.” “Hunters and stealers,” said Len indignantly. “But we kain’t he’p it. We got to go on.” “She’ll drive in easy,” said Serena. “It’s that sow you brought in last year, an’ I gentled her with slop fer a month.” She put the little pig down by his mother, who became very still as he lifted a nudging nose to her. I wanted to return and find the other pigs, but was swiftly talked down. “They’ll find the sow ef she’ll squeal loud enough,” said Sam. “They won’t run fur anyhow, an’ we’ll look ’em out as we go home.” The men had discovered some signs which they were sure would lead to a fine bunch of shotes. “An’ shotes pay,” they said. “Anybody’ll buy a shote.” The “signs” took us by a very rough way through a damp hollow. Serena declared it was so “blustery” she couldn’t stand it, and persuaded me to turn up the slope and walk along the ridge, leaving the men to push their way below. “They always scour that holler,” she said, “but they’ve never brought a pig out of it.” In half an hour the men came up defeated. Some pigs had been found, but they proved to be in Ag Snead’s mark. “I’ll tell ye what let’s do,” said Len. “We’ll go to Raven Den side to find that big b’ar hog that’s tuskin’ our gentles ever’ time they go to the woods.” “B’ar hog” was euphemistic usage, in my presence, for boar. It was humorously incorrect, being similar in sound to the abbreviation for barrow. “I’m afraid o’ that feller,” said young Ben. “I seen him onct. He suits me where he is.” “Let’s go fer him,” said Burl. “That sounds like a hunt.” “I’m ready,” said Sam. “That feller’s too mean to let live. I’ve had to sew up two shotes this week that come in all cut up.” We were moving slowly along the ridge, and little Ross, who had been running ahead, came flying back to say that he had found a hog sound asleep. We rushed forward and came upon a fine sow lying dead. Len pointed to a bullet-hole in her forehead.