“Will Little Ann be all right?” my oldest sister asked.
“Yes,” I said, “she’ll be all right. She only had one bad wound and we’ve taken care of that.”
“Old Dan’s hurt bad, isn’t he?” she said. I nodded my head.
“How bad is it?” she asked. “It’s bad,” I said. “He was cut wide open.” They all started crying.
“Now here,” Mama said, going over, “you girls get back in bed. You’ll take a death of cold being up like this in your bare feet.”
“Mommie,” the little one said. “God won’t let Old Dan die, will He?”
“I don’t think so, honey,” Mama said. “Now off to bed.”
They turned and walked slowly back to their room. “The way your dogs are cut up,” Papa said, “it must have been a terrible fight.”
“It was, Papa,” I said. “I never saw anything like it. Little Ann wouldn’t have fought the lion if it hadn’t been for Old Dan.
All she was doing was helping him. He wouldn’t quit. He just stayed right in there till the end.
I even had to pry his jaws loose from the lion’s throat after the lion was dead.”
Glancing at Old Dan, Papa said, “It’s in his blood, Billy. He’s a hunting hound, and the best one I ever saw.
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