Thrusting his family rudely aside, he scurried up the burrow to the door, where the dog was making the earth fly at a most alarming rate.

Without a moment's hesitation he sank his long, cutting teeth into the rash intruder's nose and held on.
"The dog yelped and choked, and tried to back out of the hole in a hurry.
But it was no use.

The old woodchuck had a solid grip and was pulling with all his might in the other direction.

Panic-stricken and half smothered by the dry earth, the dog dug in his hind claws, bent his back like a bow, and pulled for all he was worth, yelling till you might have thought there were half a dozen dogs in that hole.

At last, after perhaps three or four minutes--which seemed to the dog much longer--the old woodchuck decided to leave go.