I didn’t like to have my dogs tree the big cats, for their fur wasn’t any good, and all I could expect was two cut-up hounds.
They could kill the largest bobcat in the hills, and had on several occasions, but to me it was useless.
The only good I could see in killing one was getting rid of a vicious predatory animal. The fourth time they treed, they were on top of a mountain.
After the long chase, I figured the animal was winded and would stay in the tree. In a trot I started to them.
As I neared the tree, Little Ann came to me, reared up, and whined. By her actions, I knew something was wrong.
I stopped. In the moonlight, I could see Old Dan sitting on his haunches, staring up at the tree and bawling.
The tree had lots of dead leaves on it. I knew it was a large white oak because it is one of the last trees in the mountains to lose its leaves.
Old Dan kept bawling. Then he did something he had never done before.
For seconds his deep voice was still, and silence settled over the mountains.
My eyes wandered from the tree to him. His lips were curled back and he snarled as he stared into the dark foliage of the tree.
His teeth gleamed white in the moonlight. The hair on his neck and along his back stood on end.
A low, deep, rumbling growl rolled from his throat. I was scared and I called to him.
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