A moment's pause, and then the low snarl and growl and clash of tooth and claw! Again the hunter's gnarled hands flew over his head.
"Yaaaiih! Yaaaaiiih! Yaaiih! Yaaaaiiiihhh!!"
On the shore Dennis stood first over one group of swirling, rolling, snarling brutes, and then over the other, yelling and cheering.
The coon on the island suddenly broke his assailant's death-like grip, and, with a quick leap, reached the water. Boney was on him in a moment and down they went beneath the surface again.
The Boy sprang to the rescue.
His father brushed him roughly aside:
"Keep out! I'll git 'em!"
Three times the coon made the dash for deep water and three times Tom carried both dog and coon back to the little island yelling his battle cry anew.
The smooth stones began to show red. Fur and dog hair flew in little tufts and struck the ground, sometimes with the flat splash of red flesh.
The Boy frowned and his lips quivered. At last he could hold in no longer. Through chattering teeth he moaned: