Hearing the word beat, Grandpa began to fidget. He asked me, “What do you think happened? How did that coon fool them?”
“I don’t know for sure,” I said. “He walked that rail fence. The hackberry tree has something to do with his trick, but I don’t know what.”
“Son,” the judge said, “I wouldn’t feel too badly if I were you. I’ve seen some of the very best hounds fooled by a smart old coon.”
Regardless of all the discouraging talk, the love and belief I had in my little red hounds never faltered.
I could see them now and then, leaping over old logs, tearing through the underbrush, sniffing and searching for the lost trail.
My heart swelled with pride. I whooped, urging them on.
In a low voice, the judge said, “I’ll say one thing. They don’t give up easily.”
Birds began to chirp all around us. The sky took on a light gray color. Tiny dim stars were blinking the night away.
“It looks like we’re beat,” Papa said. “It’s getting daylight.”
At that moment, the loud clear voice of a redbone hound, bawling treed, rang through the river bottoms.
It was the voice of Little Ann. Sucking in a mouthful of air, I held it.
I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs. I closed my eyes tight and gritted my teeth to keep the tears from coming.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색