Well, ye see, I couldn't sleep, and the skeeters was purty busy, and I thought I'd git up.

So I went to my cabin door and flung it open.

The moon was shinin', and the woods was still, but Turk, he rushed out, and growled and barked like mad.

Bimeby he got tired, and come back lookin' kind o' skeered, and says I: 'Ye're a purty dog, ain't ye ?' Jest then I hearn the thing nigher, and I begun to hear the brush crack.

I knowed I'd got to meet some new sort of a creetur, and I jest stepped back and took my rifle.