“You are witched, Chunkey, sure and sartin’,” said I. Arter bracin’ myself, I raised up agin and _fired_! One on ’em sprung into the air and gin a yell, and the other bounded towards me like a streak! Lightin’ close to me, it squatted to the ground and commenced creepin’ towards me—its years laid back, its eyes turnin’ green, and sorter swimmin’ round like, and the end of its tail twistin’ like a snake. I felt light as a cork, and strong as a buffalo. I seen her commence slippin’ her legs under her, and knew she were gwine to spring. I throw’d back my gun to gin it to her, as she come; the lick I aimed at her head struck across the shoulders and back without doing any harm, _and she had me_!—Rip, rip, rip—and ’way went my blanket, coat, and britches. She sunk her teeth into my shoulder, her green eyes were close to mine, and the froth from her mouth were flyin’ in my face!! _Moses!_ how fast she _did_ fight! I felt the warm blood runnin’ down my side—I seen she were arter _my_ throat! and with that I grabbed _hern_, and commenced pourin’ it into her side with my fist, like cats-a-fightin!—Rip, rip, she’d take me,—diff, slam, bang, I’d gin it to her—she fightin’ for her _supper_, I fightin’ for my _life_! Why, in course it war an onequal fight, but she ris it! Well, we had it round and round, sometimes one, and then yother on top, she a growlin’ and I a gruntin’! We had both commenced gittin’ mighty tired, and presently she made a spring, _tryin’ to git away_! Arter _that_ thar wan’t no mortal chance for her! Cause why, she were whipped! I’d sorter been thinkin’ about sayin’ “Now I lay me down to sleep,” but I know’d if I commenced it would put her in heart, and she’d riddle me in a minit, and when _she_ hollered _nuff_, I were glad to my shoe soles, and had sich confidence in whippin’ the fight, that _I offered two to one on Chunkey_, but no takers! “Oh, ho!” says I, a hittin’ her a lick every time I spoke, “you are willin’ to quit even and divide stakes, are you?” and then round and round we went agin! You could have hearn us blow a quarter, but presently she made a _big struggle_ and broke my hold! I fell one way, and she the other! She darted into the cane, and that’s the last time I ever hearn of _that_ panter!!! When I sorter come to myself, I war struttin’ and _thunderin’_ like a big he-gobler, and then I commenced examinin’ to see what harm she’d done me; I war bit powerful bad in the shoulder and arm—_jist look at them scars!_—and I were cut into solid whip-strings; but when I found thar warn’t no danger of its _killin’_ me, I set in to braggin’. “Oh, you ain’t dead yet, Chunkey!” says I, “if you are sorter wusted, and have whipped a panter in a fair fight, and _no_ gougin’;” and then I _cock a doodle dood_ a spell, for joy!