"I hadn't the fust thing in the way of a we'pon with me; but there was plenty of stones down in the hollow, and I cut a good oak-sapling with my jack-knife. Then I sot myself to scramble down the face of the clift; and, I tell you, I sweat before I got to the bottom. Ef it hadn't been for Harnah, I couldn't 'a done it; but, somehow or 'nother, I reached the bottom, and looked about me. Sure enough, close to my feet was the mouth of a cave, running right in under the ledge, though not more than three foot high. I knelt down and peeked in, calling,—
"'Harnah, be you thar?'
"'Seth, is it you?' asked a voice very faint.
"'Yes, my dear, it is,' says I, 'and bound to get you out uv this scrape about the quickest. What's a-keeping you in there?'
"'My leg is broke, and the horrid creature is lying on my feet!' says Harnah.
"I didn't wait for no more questions, but crawled inter the hole. A dozen feet from the mouth, I come to a snarl of fur, and glary eyes, and snapping teeth, and savage growls, that I finally made out to be a couple of painter-kittens, not more'n a few days old, but savage enough for a hundred. They was snuggled close up to something: what it was I couldn't at fust make out in the darkness; but putty soon I see that it was a full-grown painter, lying stretched out at length. I started back, with all the blood in me pricking at my fingers' ends with the scare I'd got; but Harnah's voice from beyond says,—
"Don't be frightened at the old panther. She's dead. They fought, and one ran away; and this one is dead.'
"And is she a-lying on your feet, did you say? It's so dark in here, I can't see the fust thing,' says I, feeling round for the critter's head, and gitting my paws tore by the young ones, who, I must say for 'em, was mighty handy with their claws for their age. So says I,—
"'Well, fust thing, I'll get red o' these little devils; and then
I'll drag out the karkiss, and see to you, my poor gal.'
"So I clinched the fust one by the throat, and, when he hung like a rag, pitched him out, and grappled t'other; but he was a case, I tell you. Fight!—you'd ought ter have seen him!-and scratch and bite, and spit and yowl, till the whole woods rung with his uproar. I mastered him finally; but he'd done his work, and come nigh beating me even arter he was dead, as ye shall hear.