not swim. Still knee to knee with Hardy, I drew and fired. "Puppy's"
mate yelped and rolled over, dead.

"Call them back," I said, holding my weapon high; but Hardy only
shrieked curses and cried:

"_Take the nigger, Charmer, take him!_"

I fired again. Poor Dandy! He sprang aside howling piteously, with
melting eyes on his master.

"Oh, God!" cried Hardy, leaping down beside the wailing dog, that
pushed its head into his bosom like a sick child. "Oh, God, but you
shall die for this!"

He was half right but so was I and I checked up barely enough to cry
back: "Call 'em off! Call 'em off or I'll shoot Charmer!"

With Dandy clasped close and with eyes streaming he blew the recall.
Looking for its effect, I saw Euonymus trying to swim and Charmer
quitting the chase. But the young dog kept on. The current was
carrying Euonymus away. Twice through vines and brush, while I cried:
"Catch the fallen tree below you! Catch the tree!" I tried to spur my
horse down into the stream, and on the third trial I succeeded.

The flood had cut the bank from under a great buttonwood. It hung
prone over the water, and one dipping fork seized and held the fainting
swimmer. The dog was close, but had entered the current too far down
and was breasting it while he bayed in protest to his master's horn.
Now, as Euonymus struggled along the tree the brute struck for the