'Tsip! another bolt and the second chuck was kicking.

But the old one dashed like a flash into the underground safety of her den.
Quonab knew that she had seen nothing of him and would likely come forth very soon.

He waited for some time; then the gray-brown muzzle of the fat old clover-stealer came partly to view; but it was not enough for a shot, and she seemed to have no idea of coming farther.

The Indian waited what seemed like a long time, then played an ancient trick.

He began to whistle a soft, low air.