htened me, and I yelled to R.C. to be
careful. I yelled to deaf ears. That is the first great risk--a rider
is not going to be careful! We were right on top of Jim and Sampson
with the pack clamoring mad music just behind. The forest rang. Both
horses hurdled logs, sometimes two at once. My old lion chases with
Buffalo Jones had made me skillful in dodging branches and snags, and
sliding knees back to avoid knocking them against trees. For a mile
the forest was comparatively open, and here we had a grand and ringing
run. I received two hard knocks, was unseated once, but held on, and
I got a stinging crack in the face from a branch. R.C. added several
more black-and-blue spots to his already spotted anatomy, and he
missed, just by an inch, a solid snag that would have broken him
in two. The pack stretched out in wild staccato chorus, the little
Airedales literally screeching. Jim got out of our sight and then
Sampson. Still it was ever more thrilling to follow by sound rather
than sight. They led up a thick, steep slope. Here we got into trouble
in the windfalls of timber and the pack drew away from us, up over the
mountain. We were half way up when we heard them jump the bear. The
forest seemed full of strife and bays and yelps. We heard the dogs go
down again to our right, and as we turned we saw Teague and the others
strung out along the edge of the park. They got far ahead of us. When
we reached the bottom of the slope they were out of sight, but we
could hear them yell. The hounds were working around on another slope,
from which craggy rocks loomed above the timber. R.C.'s horse lunged
across the park and appeared to be running off from mine. I was a
little to the right, and when my horse got under way, full speed, we
had the bad luck to plunge suddenly into soft ground. He went to his
knees, and I sailed out of the saddle fully twenty feet, to alight all
spread out and to slide like a plow. I did not seem to be hurt. When I
got up my horse was coming and he appeared to be patient with me, but
he was in a hurry. Before we got across the wet place R.C. was out of
sight. I decided that instead of worrying about him I had better think
about myself. Once on hard ground my horse fairly charged into the
woods and we broke brush and branches as if they had been punk. It
was again open forest, then a rocky slope, and then a flat ridge with
aisles between the trees. Here I heard the melodious notes of Teague's
hunting horn,