Shep, and lie was the most to be feared of them all, but it was almost a hopeless task to fight them. When he charged they merely slunk away. If he charged one, another was at his heels snapping at his vital spot, the great cord above the gambrel joint. So after chasing them out and in through dense cover for half an hour he decided that this tired and fretted him more even than running, so he again took to his fleet limbs.
He swam rivers and climbed mountains, plunged into deep swamps and through bramble patches. He doubled and turned, or ran for miles in a straightaway, but all to no avail. No matter how hard or how fast he ran, sooner or later he would again hear the baying of the hounds.
Friday evening found him again hugging the skirts of old Hoosac, hoping vainly for a respite from his pursuers, but there was to be none. Here Shep and the other hound again took up the trail and the great Buck again fled through a starless, moonless night running in the open country. By daylight he had crossed
