"I've always noticed that
nobody can give so much good advice about a piece o' work as a new hand.
When you've treed as many coons as your Uncle Brown an' me, you won't
feel so certain. Isaac, you be the one to take the dog up round the
ledge, there. He'll scent the coon quick enough then. We'll tend to this
part o' the business."
"You may come too, John Henry," said the indulgent father, and they set
off together silently with the coon dog. He followed well enough now;
his tail and ears were drooping even more than usual, but he whimpered
along as bravely as he could, much excited, at John Henry's heels, like
one of those great soldiers who are all unnerved until the battle is
well begun.
A minute later the father and son came hurrying back, breathless, and
stumbling over roots and bushes. The fire was already lighted, and
sending a great glow higher and higher among the trees.
"He's off! He's struck a track! He was off like a major!" wheezed Mr.
Isaac Brown.
"Which way'd he go?" asked everybody.
"Right out toward the fields. Like's not the old fellow was just
starting after more of our fowls. I'm glad we come early,--he can't have
got far yet. We can't do nothin' but wait now, boys. I'll set right down
here."
"Soon as the coon trees, you'll hear the dog sing, now I tell you!" said
John York, with great enthusiasm. "That night your father an' me got
those four busters we've told you about, they come right back here to
the ledge.
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