Then I sot myself to scramble down
the face of the clift; and, I tell you, I sweat before I got to the
bottom. Ef it hadn't been for Harnah, I couldn't 'a done it; but,
somehow or 'nother, I reached the bottom, and looked about me. Sure
enough, close to my feet was the mouth of a cave, running right in
under the ledge, though not more than three foot high. I knelt down
and peeked in, calling,--
"'Harnah, be you thar?'
"'Seth, is it you?' asked a voice very faint.
"'Yes, my dear, it is,' says I, 'and bound to get you out uv this
scrape about the quickest. What's a-keeping you in there?'
"'My leg is broke, and the horrid creature is lying on my feet!'
says Harnah.
"I didn't wait for no more questions, but crawled inter the hole. A
dozen feet from the mouth, I come to a snarl of fur, and glary eyes,
and snapping teeth, and savage growls, that I finally made out to be
a couple of painter-kittens, not more'n a few days old, but savage
enough for a hundred. They was snuggled close up to something: what
it was I couldn't at fust make out in the darkness; but putty soon I
see that it was a full-grown painter, lying stretched out at length.
I started back, with all the blood in me pricking at my fingers'
ends with the scare I'd got; but Harnah's voice from beyond says,--
"Don't be frightened at the old panther.
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