"Wal, you're goin' to have a right pert time, youngster, an' don't you
forget it," said Hiram Bent.
The truth of that was very soon in evidence. Cubby would not let well
enough alone, and he would not have a slack rope. I think he wanted to
choke himself or pull my arms out. When I realized that Cubby was three
times as strong as I was I began to see that my work was cut out for me.
The more, however, that he jerked me and hauled me along, the more I
determined to hang on. I thought I had a genuine love for him up to the
time he had almost knocked my head off, but it was funny how easily he
roused my anger after that. What would have happened had he taken a notion
to go through the brush? Luckily he kept to the trail, which certainly was
rough enough. So, with watching the cub and keeping my feet free of roots
and rocks, I had no chance to look ahead. Still I had no concern about
this, for the old hunter was at my heels, and I knew he would keep a sharp
lookout.
Before I was aware of it we had gotten out of the narrow canyon into a
valley with well-timbered bottom, and open, slow rising slopes. We were
getting down into Penetier. Cubby swerved from the trail and started up the
left slope. I did not want to go, but I had to keep with him, and that was
the only way.
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