THE PANTHER'S CUB. 51 



fool of a master were away from her cub, and were chasin' her 

 about. 



"Soon as I had reasoned this out I called Yowler in, and 

 turnin' about, struck for that ere swamp straight. Yowler come 

 on behind, and about two hours afore sunset I struck the river, 

 ferried across, took up the old trail in the swamp, and was busy 

 pickin' it out over logs and under vines whar the moss grew so 

 thick it didn't leave room for a track. The scent was cold, and 

 Yowler could jist ketch it, but what with puttin' our two noses 

 together we fetched up in a big windfall, and jist in the snarl of 

 trees, whar the splinters and branches, and growin' vines was the 

 wickedest, there was a little bed of strips of bark and leaves, and 

 the young painter cub was curled up, dreamin' of supper-time. 

 He was about as big as two tomcats tied together by the tails, and 

 his natur', when I come to prick him up, was not quite so sweet. 

 He meowed, and sneezed, and about chawed up my coat-sleeve 

 afore I could bag him, which I did by takin' off my huntin' coat, 

 jammin' his head into one of the sleeves, and buttonin' and tyin' 

 him in bag like. 



" When I got all this done, I thought of the old painter, and 

 what" she would say to me when she come home with her t'other 

 young 'un. The more I calkelated, the more it seemed onpleasant, 

 for though the varmint was so perlite when she was outwittin' 

 me, I reckoned that she wouldn't be so much so when the boot 

 got on t'other leg. Fust I thought I would get out of that air 

 windfall, and wait for the old lady on the bank of the river, what 

 we could have a clare field, fur I knew it was sartin she would be 

 arter me, and I'd a leetle reether the fight wouldn't be fit out in 

 that swamp. So I put out for the river, and when I got thar took 

 a clare spot, and puttin' the cub down for the stakes, sat down to 

 wait fur the other party. 



" The wind was still, and I could hear around a considerable 

 distance. A few big frogs, and once in a while an alligator, let on 

 for music in the river. Now and then an owl hooted in the bottom 

 land, and the cranes goin' out to sea were honkin' away overhead, 

 but I couldn't hear any painter, and accordin' to my calkelations 

 there would be some howlin' when she cum home and found her 



