Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
the Boar responding to the scream for help that stirs 
the fighting Boar as the fire bell stirs the fire hall 
horse, hastening with all the self-forgetfulness of a 
noble nature to help one of his kind, and finding 
it one of his brood, his very own, and, more, being 
harried indeed by one he held in lifelong hate? 
Thus every element was here supplied for a fright- 
fulclash. Power, mighty power, lust, insanity, and 
a doubtful courage, against lesser power with match- 
less courage, and the lungs and limbs of a warrior 
trained—Kogar’s Bear and Foam of the Prunty 
Farm. 
The big Bear moved slowly to one side, then 
swung in a circle around the bush, whether to make 
a flank attack on the Boar, or to strike at the young, 
mattered not; for each way the great hog swung 
between, resolute, head down, wasting no force in 
mere bluster, silent but waiting, undismayed. 
Then the Bear moved to the other side, mounted 
a log, grunted, was minded to charge, put one paw 
down this side the log, and Foam charged him. The 
Bear sprang back. The Boar refrained. Another 
swing, a feint, and the Bear rushed in. Ho! Scab- 
face, guard yourself, this is no tender youngling 
you’ve engaged. 
Thud thud—thud—went the Bear’s huge paws, 
and deep, short animal gasps of effort came. The 
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