I put them around their small necks and laced the ends together with bailing wire.
That evening I had a talk with my mother. I told her about praying for the two pups, about the magazine and the plans I had made.
I told her how hard I had tried to find names for them and how strange it was finding them carved in the bark of a sycamore tree.
With a smile on her face, she asked, “Do you believe God heard your prayer and helped you?”
“Yes, Mama,” I said. “I know He did and I’ll always be thankful.”
Chapter - VII
IT SEEMS THAT THE WORRIES AND WANTS OF A YOUNG BOY never cease.
Now that I had my pups another obstacle had cropped up. This one looked absolutely impossible.
I had to have a coonskin so I could train them. With my three little traps and a bulldogged determination, I set out to trap Mister Ringtail.
For three solid weeks I practically lived on the river. I tried every trick I knew. It was no use.
I just couldn’t catch the wiley old coons. In desperation I went to my grandfather.
He smiled as he listened to my tale of woe. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that,” he said.
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