We scratched and
bit, pulled hair, clinched, and threw each other down.
I remember I succeeded in getting on him what in my
college days I learned was called a half-Nelson. This
hold gave me the decided advantage. But I did not
enjoy it long. He twisted up one leg, and with the
foot (or hind-hand) made so savage an onslaught upon my
abdomen as to threaten to disembowel me. I had to
release him in order to save myself, and then we went
at it again.
Lop-Ear was a year older than I, but I was several
times angrier than he, and in the end he took to his
heels. I chased him across the open and down a run-way
to the river. But he was better acquainted with the
locality and ran along the edge of the water and up
another run-way. He cut diagonally across the open
space and dashed into a wide-mouthed cave.
Before I knew it, I had plunged after him into the
darkness. The next moment I was badly frightened. I
had never been in a cave before. I began to whimper
and cry out. Lop-Ear chattered mockingly at me, and,
springing upon me unseen, tumbled me over.
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