"Tammie, and he's just as good as he looks."
Tammie sniffed delicately at their guest, received a pat on the head and went to stretch out on his bearskin. John Wilson glanced at him again.
"Aren't you afraid to let him run?"
"After tomorrow, poor Tammie will be confined to quarters until deer season ends."
John Wilson nodded. "That's wise, some hunters will shoot at anything. What time do you plan to get out in the morning?"
"Whenever you care to leave."
"Isn't it traditional for hunters to be in the woods at dawn?"
"That's right."
"Then let's not violate revered custom. Where do these two big bucks hang out?"
"They've been on Burned Mountain for a long while. Hunters may put them off there and then again they may not."