Crack! The tense collars fly, and the arrowy
rush of the snaky dogs follows. Puss flicks her ears--she hears a thud,
thud, wallop, wallop; and she knows the supreme moment has come. Her
sinews tighten like bowstrings, and she darts on with the lightning
speed of despair. The grim pursuers near her; she almost feels the
breath of the foremost. Twitch!--and with a quick convulsive effort she
sheers aside, and her enemy sprawls on. But the second dog is ready to
meet her, and she must swirl round again. The two serpentine savages
gather themselves together and launch out in wild efforts to reach her;
they are upon her--she must dart round again, and does so under the very
feet of the baffled dogs. Her eyes are starting with overmastering
terror; again and again she sweeps from right to left, and again and
again the staunch hounds dash along in her track. Pussy fails fast; one
dog reaches her, and she shrieks as she feels his ferocious jaws touch
her; but he snatches only a mouthful of fur, and there is another
respite. Then at last one of the pursuers balances himself carefully,
his wicked head is raised, he strikes, and the long tremulous shriek of
despair is drowned in the hoarse crash of cheering from the mob.
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