75 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE panther's CUB. 



"He who flglits and runs away 

 May live to fight another day." 



" Well, it was airly morning when I started out after 

 that air painter. Small sign I had to steer by, only the 

 hearin' tell that there w^as a painter 'bout. But it had 

 been showering o'ernight, and so trailin' was easy 

 enough, and yer could see every stalk of grass that had 

 been shook, let alone the tracks a varmint the size of a 

 painter would leave. I tuck down to Spring Creek, and 

 followed it e'enmost to the barrens that stretch toward 

 the salt water ; then I fetched a turn north, and struck 

 inter the big swamp that comes out of the Suwanee. 

 Here I saw an all-fired big bar's track, and slathers of 

 deer, and a show of gobblers, but no painter whatsum- 

 ever. Got a gobbler and tuck breakfast, and then kept 

 on. Struck the branches of the St. John that arternoon. 

 Good painter ground here, tearin' big swamp, and all- 

 fired high cottonwoods and sycamores. No signs, and 

 my dog was gin out, so we shantied under a grape-vine 

 waitin' for daylight. Heered a painter holler in the 

 night, but kuowed it was a young one by the voice, and 

 it was off the wrong way. Mornin' come, and I got 



