The crazy fellow--he had never responded to my overtures of friendship--uttered short, sharp yelps of delight, and actually leaped into my arms.

But I could not hold him.

He darted upon the trail again and paid no heed to my angry shouts.

With a resolve to overhaul him, I jumped on Satan and whirled after the hound.
The black stretched out with such a stride that I was at pains to keep my seat.

I dodged the jutting rocks and projecting snags; felt stinging branches in my face and the rush of sweet, dry wind.