"A preecious pack o' young scamp-graces, every mother's son o' 'em, 'ceptin the one you didn't know, an' he can't be much different, seein' the kumpany he air in. What war they a doin'?" "They had hounds and horses. They had killed a bear." "Killed a bar! Then that's the lot that went scurryin' up the crik, while ago. Durn 'em! they never killed the bar. The houn's dud it for 'em. Ye see how it air, Dick? Who the Etarnal ked make his bread out o' huntin' hyar, when sech green goslins as them goes screamin' through the woods wi' a hul pack o' houn's to drive the game hillward! How d'ye know, gurl, thet they killed a bar?" "I saw it lying on the ground, and the skin hanging to a tree." "Skinned it, too, did they?" "Yes. They had a fire, and they had been roasting and eating some of it. I think they had been drinking too. They looked as if they had, and I could smell whiskey about the place." "But what kept Pierre among 'em?" "They were trying who could hang longest to the branch of a tree. As Pierre was coming past, Alf Brandon stopped him, and challenged him to try too; then offered to make a bet--their rifles, I think--and Pierre consented, and I came away." "Pierre should have kum along wi' ye, an' left them to theirselves. I know Alf Brandon don't owe the boy any goodwill, nor Bill Buck neyther, nor any o' that hul lot. I reckon they must a riled him, and rousted his speerit a bit." As the old hunter said this, he stepped over the threshold of the door, and stood outside, as if looking out for the coming of Dick Tarleton's son. Seeing that he was listening, the other two, to avoid making a noise, conversed in a low tone. "I kin hear the houn's," remarked Rook, speaking back into the cabin. "Thar's a growl! Durn me, ef they hain't started suthin'. Thar they go, an' the curs yellin' arter 'em as ef hell war let loose. Wonder what it kin mean? Some varmint must a crawled right inter thar camp. Wal, Pierre ain't like to a gone along wi' 'em, seein' as he's got no hoss. I reck'n we'll soon see him hyar, an' maybe Alf Brandon's rifle along wi' him. Ef it's bin who kin hang longest to the branch of a tree, I'd back him agin the toughest-tailed possum in all these parts. Ef that be the tarms o' the wager, he'll git the gun." The old hunter returned chuckling into the cabin. Some conversation passed between him and his daughter, about getting dinner for their guest; and then, thinking that the expected Pierre was a long time in showing himself, he went out again, and stood listening as before. He had not been many moments in this attitude, when he was seen to start, and then listen more eagerly with an uneasy look. Tarleton, looking from the inside, saw this, and so too the girl. "What is it, Jerry?" inquired the former, moving hastily towards the door. "Durned if I know. I heerd a shriek as ef some'dy war in trouble. Yes, thar 'tis agin! By the Etarnal, it's Pierre's voice!"