Rabbit, he
'low:

"'Easy 'nuff; des go en tackle ole Cousin Wildcat, en lam 'im 'roun'.'

"Brer Fox, he sorter scratch he year, en 'low:

"'Eh-eh, Brer Rabbit, I fear'd. He track too much lak Mr. Dog.'

"Brer Rabbit des set right flat down in de road, en holler en laugh. He
'low, sezee:

"'Shoo, Brer Fox! Who'd 'a' thunk you 'uz so skeery? Des come look at
dish yer track right close. Is dey any sign er claw anywhar's?'

"Brer Fox bleedz ter 'gree dat dey wa'n't no sign er no claw. Brer
Rabbit say:

"'Well, den, ef he aint got no claw, how he gwine ter hu't you, Brer
Fox?'

"'W'at gone wid he toofs, Brer Rabbit?'

"'Shoo, Brer Fox! Creeturs w'at barks[57] de trees aint gwine bite.'

"Brer Fox tuck'n tuck 'n'er good look at de tracks, en den him en Brer
Rabbit put out fer ter foller um up. Dey went up de road, en down de
lane, en 'cross de turnip patch, en down a dreen,[58] en up a big gully.
Brer Rabbit, he done de trackin', en eve'y time he fine one, he up'n
holler:

"'Yer 'n'er track, en no claw dar! Yer 'n'er track, en no claw dar!'

"Dey kep' on en kep' on, twel bimeby dey run up wid de creetur. Brer
Rabbit, he holler out mighty biggity:

"'Heyo dar! W'at you doin'?'

"De creetur look 'roun', but he aint sayin' nothin'. Brer Rabbit
'low:

"'Oh, you nee'nter look so sullen! We ull make you talk 'fo' we er done
'long wid you! Come, now! W'at you doin' out dar?'

"De creetur rub hisse'f 'gin' a tree des lak you see deze yer house cats
rub 'gin' a cheer, but he aint sayin' nothin'. Brer Rabbit holler:

"'W'at you come pesterin' 'long wid us fer, w'en we aint bin
a-pesterin' you? You got de consate dat I dunner who you is, but I does.
Youer de same ole Cousin Wildcat w'at my gran'daddy use ter kick en cuff
w'en you 'fuse ter 'spon'. I let you know I got a better man yer dan
w'at my gran'daddy ever is bin, en I boun' you he ull make you talk. Dat
w'at I boun' you.'

"De creetur lean mo' harder 'gin' de tree, en sorter ruffle up he
bristle, but he aint sayin' nothin'. Brer Rabbit, he 'low:

"'Go up dar, Brer Fox, en ef he 'fuse ter 'spon' slap 'im down! Dat de
way my gran'daddy done. You go up dar, Brer Fox, en ef he dast ter try
ter run, I'll des whirl in en ketch 'im.'

"Brer Fox, he sorter jub'ous, but he start todes de creetur. Ole Cousin
Wildcat walk all 'roun' de tree, rubbin' hisse'f, but he aint sayin'
nothin'. Brer Rabbit, he holler:

"'Des walk right up en slap 'im down, Brer Fox--de o