“Well,” says Jim-Polk, “we've got to keep in hearin' of the dogs. The best we can do is to fix you up with a light an' let you follow along the best way you can. You couldn't get lost if you wanted to, 'cause all you've got to do is to follow the creek, an' you're boun' to ketch up with us.” So Mr. Snelson, in spite of his prediction that he would get lost in the wilderness, and be devoured by the wild beasts, to say nothing of being frightened to death by owls, was provided with a torch. Then the boys and Harbert made a dash in the direction of the dogs. If they thought to leave Mr. Snelson, they reckoned ill, for that worthy man, flourishing the torch over his head, managed to keep them in sight. “The dogs are not very far away,” said Joe. “They ought to have gone a couple of miles by this time.” “Old Zip is in trouble,” said Jim-Polk. “He has been turnin' an' doublin', an' twistin', an' squirmin'. He can't shake ole Loud off, an' he can't git home. So what's he goin' to do?” “Climb another tree, I reckon,” said Joe. “Not much!” exclaimed Jim. “He'll take to water.” The dogs got no farther away, but the chase still kept up. The coon seemed to be going in all directions, across and around, and presently the dogs began to bay. “He's gone in a-washin'!” exclaimed Jim-Polk, with a yell. “Bless me soul! and how do ye know that?” exclaimed Mr. Snelson, who came up puffing and blowing. “Oh, I know mor'n that,” said Jim-Polk. “The coon's in the water, 'cause when the dogs bark at him it don't soun' like it did when they had their heads in the air; an' he's in swimmin' water, 'cause, if he wan't, he'd a' been kilt by this time.” It was as Jim-Polk said. When the hunters reached the dogs they could see the coon swimming around and around in the center of a small lagoon, while the dogs were rushing about on the banks. “I wish to goodness,” exclaimed Harbert, “dat dey wuz some young dogs wid us, bekaze den we'd have de biggest kind er fight. Dey'd swim in dar atter dat coon, an' he'd fetch um a swipe er two, an' den jump on der heads an' duck um. Gentermens! he sholy is a big un.” “You're right!” exclaimed Jim-Polk. “He's one of the old-timers. He'd put up a tremen-jus fight if he didn't have old Loud to tackle.--Fetch him out, boys!” he cried to the dogs, “fetch him out!” Long experience had taught the dogs their tactics. Jolly swam in and engaged the coon's attention, while Loud followed, swimming sidewise toward the center. Jolly swam around slowly, while Loud seemed to drift toward the coon, still presenting a broadside, so to speak. The coon, following the movements of Jolly, had paid no attention to Loud. Suddenly he saw the dog, and sprang at him, but it was too late. Loud ducked his head, and, before the coon could recover, fastened his powerful jaws on the creature's ribs. There was a loud squall, a fierce shake, and the battle was over.