"And he have not eat you ?" Ephraim Savage's little eyes twinkled at the reminiscence.
"I ate him," said he.
"What!" cried Amos.
"It's a mortal fact.

I'd a jack-knife in my pocket, Same as this one, and I kicked my legs to keep the brute off, and I whittled away at the spar until I'd got a good jagged bit off, sharp at each end, same as a nigger told me once down Delaware way.

Then I waited for him, and stopped kicking, so he came at me like a hawk on a chick-a-dee.

When he turned up his belly I jammed my left hand with the wood right into his great grinnin' mouth, and I let him have it with my knife between the gills.

He tried to break away then, but I held on, d'ye see, though he took me so deep I thought I'd never come up again.