76 WILD SPOET8 IN THE SOUTH. 



around through little Ammaninac Swamp, and by night 

 time had come purty near whar I fust started from, hav- 

 ing made a purty tolerable circle, and nairy a painter. 

 Sez I, * Those cusses at the sheep-farm have been foolin' 

 me, and tuck wild-cat for painter.' 



" So arter soundin' around to see where the buildin's 

 lay, and whar the sheep-pen was, Yowler and I lay down 

 together, and were doin' some tall sleepin', when I heerd 

 a soft kind o' crying down the woods. I knowed it in a 

 minnit ; it war the same painter he hadn't been outside 

 of my circle at all, the dratted cuss! He had just been 

 a layin'-to for another haul on the sheep-pen, and so 

 I hadn't struck his trail. I kept quiet, thinkin' he 

 would come up toward the improvements, and I could 

 tickle him, but he reether seemed to move off. Arter a 

 while I heerd him purrin' like, and then I knew he had 

 something to eat fawn, like 'nough, or some small ani- 

 mal. This guv me a mean opinion of this painter, for 

 your rael snortin' big fellars don't stoop to small fry, but 

 live on deer, sheep, hogs, or sich like. Wall, mornin' 

 come on, and when it bruck enough to see a meetin'- 

 house, I pushed on, but the painter had moved off. I 

 found a sheepskin all rolled up, and I knew then why he 

 had been purring. The painter had caught a sheep on 

 the range some time in the day, and not eaten it, so he 

 didn't have need for more fodder all night. I found 

 the trail, and then sez I, 'Now, Mr. Painter, we'll see 

 who's best at walkinV Yowler tuck the trail, and along 

 we bowled for about an hour, when all of a sudden I 



