CAPE FOXHOUNDS 



almost on him ; he turns upon his 

 foe. 



Each rears on end with an angry 

 worry at the other's throat, but in a 

 second more the white and mottled 

 avalanche is on them, and it is a 

 struggling mass of tugging, growling 

 hounds that we spring into with 

 "Who whoop!" 



