"That bear's bedded
somewhere an' I'll bet the hounds jumped him. Listen to Old Tom!"
How the deep sonorous bay of Old Tom awoke the echoes under the
cliffs! And Old Dan's voice was a hoarse bellow. The other hounds
yelped.
Edd blew a mellow blast from his hunting-horn, and that awoke other
and more melodious echoes. "There's father up on the rim," he said. I
looked, and finally saw Haught perched like a black eagle on a crag.
His gun flashed in the strong sunlight.
Somewhere up there the hounds jumped the bear. Anybody could have told
that. What a wild chorus! Edd and George answered to it with whoops
as wild, and they galloped their horses over ground and through brush
where they should have been walked. I followed, or tried to follow;
and here my steed showed his bull-headed, obstinate nature. If he had
been afraid but still game I would have respected him, but he was a
coward and mean. He wanted to have his way, which was to go the other
direction, and to rid himself of me. So we had it hot and heavy
along that rough slope, with honors about even. As for bruises and
scratches, however, I sustained the most. In the excitement of the
chase and anger at the horse I forgot all about any risks. This always
is the way in adventure. Hot racing blood governed me entirely.
Whenever I got out in an open place, where I could ride fast and hear
and see, then it was all intensely thrilling.
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