The hunter put his hands in his pockets and gazed at the warriors below. "Waal, we'll try ter git a dog ter yank one of 'em out an' then they'll all come. But I have my doubts. I don't believe that Godamighty ever yet built a dog that'll stick his nose in that hole. Hit takes three dogs ter kill one coon in a fair fight. Old Boney's the only pup I ever seed do it by hisself. But it's askin' too much o' him ter stick his nose in a place like that with three of 'em lookin' right at him ready ter tear his eyes out. But they ain't nothin' like tryin'----" He paused and looked at the old warrior of a hundred bloody fields, pointed at the bottom of the hole and in stern command shouted: "Fetch 'em out, Bone!" With a deep growl the faithful old soldier sprang to the front. With teeth shining in white gleaming rows he scrambled within a foot of the opening of the den, circled it twice, his eyes fixed on the flashing lights below. They followed his every move. He tried the stratagem of right and left flank movements, but the space was too narrow. He dashed straight toward the opening once with a loud angry cry, hoping to get the flash of a coward's back. He met three double rows of white needle-like teeth daring him to come on. He squatted flat on his belly and growled with desperate fury, but he wouldn't go closer. The hunter urged in vain. "Hit's no use!" he cried at last. "Jest ez well axe er dog ter walk into a den er lions. I don't blame him." The Boy's pride was hurt. "I can make him bring one out," he said. Tom shook his head: "Not much. Less see ye?" The Boy stepped down to the dog's side. "Look out, ye fool, don't let yer foot slip in thar!" his father warned. The Boy knelt beside the dog, patted his back and began to talk to him in low tense tones: "Fetch 'im out, Bone! Go after 'm! Sick 'em, boy, sick 'em!" Closer and closer the brave old fighter edged his way, only a low mad growl answering to the Boy's urging. His eyes were blazing now in the red rays of the rising sun like two balls of fire. With a sudden savage plunge he hurled himself into the den and quick as a flash of lightning his short hairy neck gave a flirt, and a coon as large as one of the hounds whizzed ten feet into the air, and, with his white teeth shining, struck the ground, lighting squarely on his feet. A hound dashed for him and one slap from the long sharp claws sent him howling and bleeding into the canes. But old Boney had watched him in the air, and, circling the pack that faced the coon, with a quick leap had downed him. Then every dog was with him and the battle was on. Eight dogs to one coon and yet so sharp were his claws, so keen the steel-like points of his teeth, he sometimes had four dogs rolling in agony beside the growling mass of fur and teeth and nails.