"Sic him, Spot!" Johnnie cried.
But old Spot hung back, instead of dashing into the bushes toward which he was pointing. That wasn't at all like him. Johnnie Green couldn't understand it.
The Muley Cow, too, thought it very odd. "I declare," she said to herself, "I believe old Spot's afraid of something. I believe he's afraid of a woodchuck." And she gave a sort of chuckle, thinking it a great joke. Neither she nor her friends were any too fond of Spot. And she intended to tell the whole herd how he didn't dare chase a woodchuck.
Meanwhile Johnnie Green picked up a stone and threw it into the clump of bushes. And then he heard something that was between a growl and a grunt.
The Muley Cow heard it too. She knew that no woodchuck ever made a sound like that. And all at once she caught a whiff of the strangest, wildest sort of scent.
It was enough for the Muley Cow. "My goodness!" she bellowed. "I'm going home!" And off she dashed down the hillside. She had forgotten all about the joke on old dog Spot.
Johnnie Green had not noticed that the Muley Cow had fled. He was running towards the hidden game, in the thicket, when that queer grunty growl made him stop short. The next moment, not ten feet in front of him a shaggy form rose up out of the tangle and glared straight at him.
It was a bear!