Once while I was taking a rest, Old Dan came over to inspect my work.
He hopped up in the cut and sniffed around. “You had better get out of there,” I said.
“If that tree takes a notion to fall, it’ll mash you flatter than a tadpole’s tail.”
With a “no care” look on his friendly face, he gave me a hurry-up signal with a wag of his tail.
Little Ann had dug a bed in a pile of dead leaves. She looked as if she were asleep but I knew she wasn’t.
Every time I stopped swinging the ax, she would raise her head and look at me.
Chapter - IX
BY LATE EVENING THE HAPPY TUNE I HAD BEEN WHISTLING was forgotten.
My back throbbed like a stone bruise. The muscles in my legs and arms started quivering and jerking.
I couldn’t gulp enough air to cool the burning heat in my lungs.
My strength was gone. I could go no further. I sat down and called my dogs to me.
With tears in my eyes, I told them that I just couldn’t cut the big tree down.
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