Thad breathed freer.
He knew now that his chum had been wise enough to take refuge among the branches of this tree when he lost hold of the ax with which he had been defending himself.
And since he seemed so very merry now, it was evident that he had not been badly injured by the teeth of the brute.
Thad began to push his Marlin forward, as though he might mean business from the start.
He did not fancy the looks of the big dog, which was of a dingy yellow-color, and as large as a two-month-old calf.
Possibly he belonged to some farmer within a mile or so of the spot; or it might be that he was a stray beast, drawn back to the original state of his kind by the call of the wild.
Thad did not try to find out, and indeed, there was no possible way in which he could ascertain, since the dog could not talk.
Maurice had apparently become aware of his presence, for just then he called out.
"Take care, Thad, he's a holy terror of a brute. If you shoot be sure you get him, or he'll jump you like he did me. He's mad clear through. Hi! look out. he's scented you and he's coming!"
Thad needed no warning, for he had been watching the big buff dog every second of the time.