“Do you never fail?”
“Never; but sometimes we miss killin’ ’im.”
“They must be thick around here,” remarked Sanford.
“Not so powerful. Why, just a few ye’r ago, Brit Mayner killed nine in one day. He couldn’t do hit now.”
“Gittin’ scurce; every man on the Smokies owns dogs, an’ they’re bein’ hounded to death.”
“How about bears?” asked Kenswick.
“Gittin’ scurce, too. We generally kill eight or ten now in the season agin twenty a short time back.”
“When is the best season for bear,” began Kenswick, but Sanford, who had stepped to the door, interrupted him.
“Oh,” said he, “let information about bears rest until we hunt for them, and let me ask if that is a wolf I hear howling. Listen!”