Eyes wide with anguish he heard his father cry:
"By the Lord, he'll kill that dog shore—he's a goner!"
"No, he won't neither!" the Boy shouted, leaping into the water where he saw them go down.
Before his father could warn him of the danger his head disappeared in the deep still eddy.
"Look out for us, Dennis, with a pole I'm goin' ter dive fer 'em!"
In a moment they came to the surface, the man holding the Boy, the Boy grasping his dog, the coon fastened to the dog's head.
"Well, don't that beat the devil!" Tom laughed, as he carried them to a little rocky island in the middle of the creek.
The Boy intent on saving his dog had held his breath and was not even strangled. The dog had buried his nose in the coon's throat and was chewing and choking with savage determination.
Tom stood over them now on the little island with its smooth stone-paved battle arena ringed with the music of laughing waters. He threw both hands above his shaggy head and yelled himself hoarse—the wild cry of the hunter's soul in delirious joy.
"Yaaaiih! Yaaaiiih!"