THE PANTHER'S CUB. 49 



he had laid down in the mud, and then for the fust time I saw it 

 was a she-painter with sucking young ones. As near as I could 

 make out by the marks in the mud she had two cubs lugging at 

 her, the rest of her tits being of no account. Then the track went 

 in a little further under some alders, and there she had laid down 

 agin, this time on her side, and, Jehosaphat ! thar by her side, as 

 clare as daylight, was a dozen little tracks of a cub she had been 

 a-carryin' in her mouth all that way. She had tuck to these 

 bushes to give it some milk, and was goin' with it into the big 

 swamps t'other side of the river. It was all as clare as if a school- 

 master had writ. That war the reason why the she-painter didn't 

 come on to fight when I fired at her ; she wanted to git her pups 

 clare from the dog ; that 's the natur of a painter, and an oncommin 

 considerin' natur it is, too. My 'pinion of that painter rose some. 

 Arter the trail left the alder bushes, it went right into the river. 



" I soon found a log big enough for me and Yowler, and, puttin' 

 the dog on one eend on 't, so as to save him from the alligators, I 

 slung my rifle on my back, and paddled across. I soon found the 

 trail, and went jogging along pretty slow, for it was a tough kind 

 of swamp, when in a minute or so I heerd Yowler burst out in a 

 clear yell I knowed he seed the painter, and I hurried on as well 

 as I could, but, Jimminy Peters ! that painter, when he made a 

 jump across the fallen logs, went as fur in one minute as I in ten. 

 I soon come to where I heerd the dog break out so, and I seed 

 somethin' kind o' curious. The old tracks went straight on south, 

 but there were a set of new tracks that came right back on top 

 the old ones, and just where the dog had come up they had turned 

 off to the east. 



" ' Wall, that 's queer ! " sez I to myself. ' If that 's the same 

 varmint, she 's what I 'm arter, and if she aint she 's just as good, 

 for I calkelate that one painter is just as good as another, providin' 

 allers she 's as big.' So I cheered on Yowler, and we went on the 

 side track. Now over logs, then in a mucky place, and now 

 through the water, that dog and I stuck to that painter like two 

 wood-ticks. Arter going a little to the east the track went back 

 to the river, and went across about a mile above where it had 

 crossed before. ' Wall, that 's queer,' sez I to myself. There 's 



D 



