Part 11 (2/2)

Dennis started on a run.

”Don't yer let 'em out an' start that fight afore I git here!” he called.

”You'll see it all,” Tom rea.s.sured him.

He made the dogs stop scratching and lie down to rest.

”Jest save yer strenk, boys,” Tom cried. ”Yer'll need it presently.”

They sat down, the father lit his pipe and told the Boy the story of a great fight he had witnessed on such a creek bank once before in his life.

Day was dawning and the eastern sky reddening.

The Boy stamped on the solid ground and couldn't believe it possible that any dog could smell game through six feet of earth.

He lifted Boney's long nose and looked at it curiously. His wonderful nostrils were widely distended and though he lay quite still in the sand on the edge of the hole his muscles were quivering with excitement and his wistful hound eyes had in them now the red glare of coming battle.

It was quick work when Dennis arrived to throw the sand and soft earth away and open a hole five feet in depth and of sufficient width to allow all the dogs to get foothold inside.

Suddenly the spade crashed through an opening below and the rasp of sharp desperate teeth and claws rang against its polished surface.

”Did you hear that?” Tom laughed.

Another spadeful out and they could be plainly seen. How many it was impossible to tell, but three pairs of glowing bloodshot eyes in the shadows showed plainly.

Tom straightened his ma.s.sive figure and gave a shout to the dogs. They all danced around the upper rim of the hole and barked with fierce boastful yelps, but not one would venture his nose within two feet of those grim s.h.i.+ning eyes.

”Well, Dennis,” Tom sighed, ”I reckon I'll have ter shove you down thar an' hold ye by the heels while yer pull one of 'em out!”

”I'll be doggoned ef yer do!” he remarked with emphasis.

Tom laughed. ”You wuz afeared ye wouldn't git here in time ye know.”

”Oh, I'm in time all right!”

The hunter put his hands in his pockets and gazed at the warriors below.

”Waal, we'll try ter git a dog ter yank one of 'em out an' then they'll all come. But I have my doubts. I don't believe that G.o.damighty ever yet built a dog that'll stick his nose in that hole. Hit takes three dogs ter kill one c.o.o.n in a fair fight. Old Boney's the only pup I ever seed do it by hisself. But it's askin' too much o' him ter stick his nose in a place like that with three of 'em lookin' right at him ready ter tear his eyes out. But they ain't nothin' like tryin'----”

He paused and looked at the old warrior of a hundred b.l.o.o.d.y fields, pointed at the bottom of the hole and in stern command shouted:

”Fetch 'em out, Bone!”

With a deep growl the faithful old soldier sprang to the front. With teeth s.h.i.+ning in white gleaming rows he scrambled within a foot of the opening of the den, circled it twice, his eyes fixed on the flas.h.i.+ng lights below. They followed his every move. He tried the stratagem of right and left flank movements, but the s.p.a.ce was too narrow. He dashed straight toward the opening once with a loud angry cry, hoping to get the flash of a coward's back. He met three double rows of white needle-like teeth daring him to come on.

He squatted flat on his belly and growled with desperate fury, but he wouldn't go closer. The hunter urged in vain.

”Hit's no use!” he cried at last. ”Jest ez well axe er dog ter walk into a den er lions. I don't blame him.”

<script>