aid. Old Boze is
a wise, old hound, and he may catch you."

"Oh, I'm not afraid of that," said Mother Wa-poose. "You just sit here
where you can see, and I'll go down there and give Old Boze the time of
his life. I think he must be trailing me now by the sound. I was down in
the garden last night after a meal of cabbage leaves, and I suppose he
has found my track."

Mother Wa-poose sprang out of her hiding place and went down the slope
ten feet at a bound. She crossed her old track near the pasture bars and
hopped slowly on to the edge of the blackberry patch. There she sat till
she was sure that Old Boze had found her new trail. Then she skipped
here and there through the briar patch till she came out on the other
side. With a great leap she cleared the fence and ran on down through
the cornfield. When she was clear of that, she ran along beside the
stone wall till she came to the creek. Over the creek she went at one
leap; then down through the alder bushes till she came back again into
the pasture. Two or three times she crossed the brook. Then she came
around up through the woods to the brush pile, where little Luke was
sitting. From its lower edge there was a good view all down through the
pasture. There Mother Wa-poose sat up and watched the old hound, her
big, round eyes shining with glee.

Old Boze followed her trail into the blackberry thicket. Round and round
he followed the scent, pushing his way through the stout bushes. Every
bush was armed with a thousand sharp hooks, and every hook clung to the
old hound's skin. He fairly whimpered with pain. Now and then he gave
tongue, until at last he came out on the other side. But his ears were
in tatters and blood drops oozed from his skin in a thousand places.

At the fence he was balked. Up and down beside the fence he ran several
times, nosing the ground for the scent.

"Look at him! Look at him," said Mother Wa-poose, fairly shaking her
sides with laughter. "Isn't he a sight? But that won't teach him
anything. He'll do it the next time. Rabbit chasing must be lots of fun
for him."

"I really do think he enjoys it," said little Luke.

Old Boze jumped over the fence and found the trail again. He followed
it until he came to the creek. There he was puzzled. But he crossed the
brook and found the trail at last. Over in the pasture he lost it again.
Mother Wa-poose had been too cunning for him this time. After nosing the
ground in all directions for a long ti