It was jest then that fear came to me. I yelled like a Comanche Indian
as he raised up to come over the log, and fired my hat full in his face.
Then I lit out.

"Say! I rounded the end of that log and put down the hill at a
two-twenty clip, old bald-face reachin' for me at every jump. At the
bottom was a broad, open flat, quarter of a mile to timber and full of
niggerheads. I knew if ever I slipped I was a goner, but I hit only the
high places till you couldn't a-seen my trail for smoke. And the old
devil snortin' along hot after me. Midway across, he reached for me,
jest strikin' the heel of my moccasin with his claw. Tell you I was
doin' some tall thinkin' jest then. I knew he had the wind of me and I
could never make the brush, so I pulled my little lunch out of my pocket
and dropped it on the fly.

"Never looked back till I hit the timber, and then he was mouthing the
biscuits in a way which wasn't nice to see, considerin' how close he'd
been to me. I never slacked up. No, sir! Jest kept hittin' the trail for
all there was in me. But jest as I came around a bend, heelin' it right
lively I tell you, what'd I see in middle of the trail before me, and
comin' my way, but another bald-face!

"'Whoof!' he says when he spotted me, and he came a-runnin.'

"Instanter I was about and hittin' the back trail twice as fast as I'd
come. The way this one was puffin' after me, I'd clean forgot all about
the other bald-face. First thing I knew I seen him mosying along kind of
easy, wonderin' most likely what had become of me, and if I tasted as
good as my lunch. Say! when he seen me he looked real pleased. And then
he came a-jumpin' for me.