242 Hills and Lakes. 



where tbej were, I've a notion twouldn't have quieted 

 his feelin's much. In less than a minute, the old man 

 heard the long bounds of another animal, comin' like 

 death on the trail of the bear, and a great painter, 

 with every hair towards his head, rushed like fury by 

 him, over the ridge in pursuit. Old Pete didn't feel 

 sorry just then, that the animal hadn't seen him, but 

 that didn't prevent his runnin' to the other side of the 

 ridge, to see the fight, that from the nater of things, 

 seemed sure to take place. Well, sure enough, about 

 forty or fifty rods down the side of the valley, where 

 the brush warn't thick enough to hide 'em, he saw 'em 

 come together. The bear, the old man said, saw 

 twasn't any use to run any further, and as the painter 

 came on, he sot himself upon his rump, and faced 

 him, and such a set of ivory as he showed, was a sight 

 to see. But twarn't no use ; the painter's back was 

 up, and without stoppin' to ask any questions, he 

 pitched in, and over, and over they went, down the 

 hill, the bear hollerin' and bitin', and the painter 

 screamin' and bitin' back, and tearin' with his long 

 claws. The fight didn't last a great while. The teeth 

 and claws of the painter, was altogether too much for 

 the bear, and twarn't many minutes till 'twas aU over, 



