CHAPTEE VI. 



THE PANTHEK S CUB. 



Marcus. I have dogs, my lord, 

 Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, 

 And climb the highest promontory top. 



"Well, it was airly mornin' when I started out after that air 

 painter. Small sign I had to steer by, only the hearin' tell that 

 there was 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 whatsumever. 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. Heerd a 

 painter holler in the night, but knowed it was a young one by the 

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

 around through little Ammaninac Swamp, and by night time had 

 come purty near whar I fust started from, having 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 



