terwards!
Edd had brought three of the pups that day, two-year-olds as full of
mischief as pups could be. They jumped a bunch of deer and chased them
out on the hard red cedar covered ridges. We had a merry chase to head
them off. Edd gave them a tongue-lashing and thrashing at one and the
same time. I felt sorry for the pups. They had been so full of frolic
and fight. How crestfallen they appeared after Edd got through!
"Whaddaye mean," yelled Edd, in conclusion. "Chasin' deer!... Do you
think you're a lot of rabbit dogs?" From the way the pups eyed Edd
so sheepishly and adoringly, I made certain they understood him
perfectly, and humbly confessed their error.

Old Tom and Old Dan had not come down off the slopes with us after the
pups. And upon our return both the old hounds began to bay deep and
fast. With shrill ki-yi the pups bounded off, apparently frantic to
make up for misbehavior. Soon the whole pack was in full chorus.
Edd and George spurred into the brush, yelling encouragement to the
hounds. This day I managed to make my horse do a little of what I
wanted. To keep in sight of the Haught boys was indeed beyond me; but
I did not lose sound of them. This chase led us up slope and down
slope, through the brush and pine thickets, over bare ridges and into
gullies; and eventually out into the basin, where the hounds got
beyond hearing.

"One of them long, lean, hungry bears," remarked Edd. "He'd outrun any
dogs."

Leisurely then we turned to the three-hour ride back to camp. Hot sun
in the open, cool wind in the shade, dry smells of the forest, green
and red and orange and purple of the foliage--these rendered the hours
pleasant for me. When I reached camp I found Romer in trouble. He had
cut his hand with a forbidden hunting knife. As he told me about it
his face was a study and his explanation was astounding. When he
finished I said: "You mean then that my hunting knife walked out of
its sheath on my belt and followed you around and cut you of its own
accord?"

"Aw, I--I--it--" he floundered.

Whereupon I lectured him about forbidden things and untruthfulness.
His reply was: "But, Dad, it hurts like sixty. Won't you put somethin'
on it?"

I dressed and bandaged the trifling cut for him, telling him the while
how little Indian boys, when cut or kicked or bruised, never showed
that they were hurt. "Huh!" he grunted. "Guess there's no Indian in
me.... I must take after mother!"

That afternoon and night