320 A FRIGHTFUL RACE. 



under 'twur wolves as did that. I bed been out arter 

 sheep in the mountains, an' bed got one thunderin' fine 

 ram. I cut up the critter, an' threw him on my old 

 mustang's back, an' sot out fur camp. 



" 'Twur jest about nightfall when I clomb up to my 

 saddle, an' as the way wur longish I let the old mar' 

 know as 'twur best to be steppin' out. I bed tied up 

 the mutton wi' strips o' hide, an' somehow one o' the 

 pieces bed got loose, an', unknownst to me, wur draggin' 

 arter the boss along the ground. That wur the sarcum- 

 stance as fetched the wolves. 



" Wai, from time to time I thort I heerd a whimperin' 

 an' a yowltin' behint ; but 'twurn't much, an' o' coorse 

 I'd heerd the same every night, as the wolves chased 

 the deer or the rabbits, an' so I never minded it. By'n- 

 by, however, I guess I minded it. 'Twurn't long until 

 the n'\ze got louder, an' kem nearer, an' all o' a suddint 

 thur wur a yowl out o' a hunderd throats close behint, 

 an' at that the old mar' put out like all creation. 

 Boyees, I guess this coon has knowed what goin' means 

 now an' agin, but it wa'n't nothin' to this. 



"Rocks an' trees passed like a whiz, an' the very 

 stars 'peared stretched out like ropes o' light along the 

 sky as I ripped along under 'em. 'Twur main bad 

 ridin' too, I kin tell yer. Thur wur steep places whur 

 the old critter bed to jump down five or six feet at a 

 time ; an' at that the lumps o' mutton 'd whammel agin 

 this child's back, an' once I wur struck on the head, 

 an' as near as cud 'a be pitched out o' the saddle. I 



