Billy, the Dog That Made Good 
tracks, and flocked behind the leader, baying deep 
and strong at every bound, while Turk came hurry- 
ing after and Silly Billy tried to make amends in 
noise for all he lacked in judgment. 
Intoxicating moments those for all the hunt. 
However civilized a man may be, such sounds and 
thoughts will tear to tatters all his cultured ways 
and show him up again a hunting beast. 
Away we went, the bawling pack our guides. 
Many a long detour we had to make to find a horse- 
man’s road, for the country was a wilderness of 
rocky gullies, impenetrable thickets, and down 
timber, where fire and storm had joined to pile 
the mountain slope with one dead forest on another. 
But we kept on, and before an hour the dinning of 
the pack in a labyrinth of fallen trees announced 
the Bear at bay. 
No one who has not seen it can understand the 
feelings of that hour. The quick dismount, the 
tying of the nerve-tense horses, the dragging forth 
of guns, the swift creep forward, the vital ques- 
tions, ‘How is he caught? By one toe that will 
give, and set him free the moment that he charges, 
or firmly by one leg?” ‘‘Is he free to charge as 
far as he can hurl the log? or is he stalled in trees 
and helpless?” 
Creeping from trunk to trunk we went, and once 
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