“In course,” says I. Well, we hollered to Sol, to let the dogs loose. Presently, I heard ’em give some short licks, and I knowed he war up. “Thar’s a cry for you.” Away they go further and further, presently you can jest hear ’em, and then they are clean gone. I hearn Jem shoutin’ awhile, and then his mouth is lost too. I started on, spectin’ to meet ’em comin’ back, and in about an hour I hearn Jem’s voice: “Who-whoop!” “Ah, bar!” says I, “whar’s your friends?” I soon hearn Jem agin, and presently I hearn the dogs, like the ringin’ of a cow-bell, a long way off. They come up the ridge, and then bore off to the thick cane on my right. Then they hushed awhile, and I knoed they’s a fightin’. Look out, dogs; thar, they are gwyine again—no, here they comes! Lay low, and keep dark. I put down another ball, and stood for him. I heard the cane crackin’, and cocked my gun. Here he comes—here he is. I hear him snortin’, wake snakes. Ain’t that lumberin’? Thar, they’ve got him again, and now the fur flies. I crawled thro’ the cane, trying to get a shot afore the dogs seen me. Thar they is, but which is he? Bang! whiff, whiff, said the bar, and with that every dog jumped him. The canes a crackin’, and the dogs a hollerin’. I jerked my bowyer and plunged in, and thar they war hung togather like a swarm of bees. I felt the har risin’ on my head, and the blood ticklin’ the end of my fingers. I crept up behind him and he war done fightin’. He haddent got a hundred yards from the place whar I’d shot him. It war a death shot, and blinded him, and thar side of him lay “Singer” and “Constitutional,” two of the best dogs in Jem’s pack. I giv a shout, and Jem answered. Presently I hearn him cummin’, blowin’ like a steam-boat, and mad as anything; he always gits mad when he’s tired, and when he seen them dead dogs, he commenced breathin’ mighty hard, and the veins in his neck was as big as fingers; we warn’t more than a quarter and a half from the camp, whar we soon got, both mighty hungry and tired. Sol cooked the liver jest to the right pint, and we spent the balance of the evenin’ in singin’, braggin’, and eatin’ spar-ribs roasted brown, till we went to sleep. Next mornin’ when we waked, it was sorter cloudy and warm too. The wind war blowin’ mightily. “Now, Chunkey, let’s have a panter to-day, _or nothin’_.” “All _sot_,” says I. Well, arter breakfast Jem says, “Chunkey, you must take the right side the Lake, and I’ll take the ’yether, till we meet—and, Chunkey, you must _rush_; it ain’t more nor eight miles round, but your side _may_ seem long, as you ain’t usen to the ground. Let’s licker out of _my_ gourd, you ain’t got more nor you’ll want. Keep your eye skinned for sign, and listen for my horn!”