With a whipped-dog look on her face and with her tail between her legs, Little Ann came over. She wouldn't even look at me. Old Dan walked slowly around behind the tree and hid himself. He peeped around the big trunk and looked at me. The message I read in his friendly eyes tore at my heart. He seemed to be saying, 'You told us to put one in a tree and you would do the rest.'
With tears in my eyes, I looked again at the big sycamore. A wave of anger came over me. Gritting my teeth, I said, 'I don't care how big you are, I'm not going to let my dogs down. I told them if they put a coon in a tree I would do the rest and I'm going to. I'm going to cut you down. I don't care if it takes me a whole year.'
I walked over and sank my ax as deep as I could in the smooth white bark. My dogs threw a fit. Little Ann started turning in circles. I could hear her pleased whimpering cry. Old Dan bawled and started gnawing on the big tree's trunk.
At first it was easy. My ax was sharp and the chips flew. Two hours later things were different. My arms felt like two dead grapevines, and my back felt like someone had pulled a plug out of one end of it and drained all the sap out.
While taking a breather, I saw I was making more progress than I thought I would. The cut I had started was a foot deep, but I still had a long way to go.
Sitting on their rears, my dogs waited and watched. I smiled at the look on their faces. Every time I stopped chopping they would come over. While Little Ann washed the sweat from my face, Old Dan would inspect my work. He seemed to be pleased with what he saw for he always wagged his tail.
Along about daylight I got my second wind and I really did make the chips fly. This burst of energy cost me dearly. By sunup I was so stiff I could hardly move. My hands and arms were numb. My back screamed with pain. I could go no further. Sitting down, I leaned back against the big tree and fell asleep.
Little Ann woke me up by washing my face. I groaned with the torture of getting to my feet. Every muscle in my body seemed to be tied in a knot. I was thinking of going down to the river to wash my face in the cool water when I heard a loud whoop. I recognized my father's voice. I whooped to let him know where I was.
Papa was riding our red mule. After he rode up, he just sat there and looked me over. He glanced at my dogs and at the big sycamore. I saw the worry leave his face. He straightened his shoulders, pursed his lips, and blew out a little air. He reminded me of someone who had just dropped a heavy load.
In a slow, calm voice, he asked, 'Are you all right, Billy?'
'Yes, Papa,' I said. 'Oh, I'm a little tired and sleepy, otherwise I'm fine.'
He slid from the mule's back and came over. 'Your mother's worried,' he said. 'When you didn't come in, we didn't know what had happened. You should've come home.'
I didn't know what to say. I bowed my head and looked at the ground. I was trying hard to choke back the tears when I felt his hand on my shoulder.
'I'm not scolding,' he said. 'We just thought maybe you had an accident or something.'
I looked up and saw a smile on his face.
He turned and looked again at the tree. 'Say,' he said, 'this is the sycamore you call 'the big tree,' isn't it?'
I nodded my head.
'Is there a coon in it?' he asked.
'There sure is, Papa,' I said. 'He's in that hollow limb. See-that one way up there. That's why I couldn't come home. I was afraid he'd get away.'
'Maybe you just think he's there,' Papa said. 'I believe I'd make sure before I'd cut down a tree that big.'
'Oh, he's there all right,' I said. 'My dogs weren't ten feet behind him when he went up it.'
'Why are you so determined to get this coon?' Papa asked. 'Couldn't you go somewhere else and tree one? Maybe the tree would be a smaller one.'
'I thought about that, Papa,' I said, 'but I made a bargain with my dogs. I told them that if they would put one in a tree, I'd do the rest. Well, they fulfilled their part of the bargain. Now it's up to me to do my part, and I'm going to, Papa. I'm going to cut it down. I don't care if it takes me a year.'
Papa laughed and said, 'Oh, I don't think it'll take that long, but it will take a while. I tell you what I'll do. You take the mule and go get some breakfast. I'll chop on it until you get back.'
'No, Papa,' I said. 'I don't want any help. I want to cut it down all by myself. You see, if someone helps me, I
