"I went out with a friend one day to one of these windfalls, partly
after blackberries, and partly for partridges. We were both boys,
younger than fifteen, then, and each possessing, probably, quite as
much discretion as valor. We had separated a short distance from each
other, he to gather berries, and I, with a small fowling-piece, in
pursuit of game. Presently I saw my friend crashing through the brush
towards me, and also towards the fields, without his basket, and bare
headed, his hair standing straight up, putting in his very best jumps,
as if a thousand tigers were at his heels. Without heeding for a
moment my anxious inquiries as to what was the matter, he kept right
on, leaping the logs like a deer, looking neither to the right hand
nor the left, but with his coat tail sticking out on a dead level
behind, making a straight wake for home. Fear is said to be
contagious, and I believe in the doctrine that it is so. I caught it
bad; and without knowing what I was afraid of, I started, and if any
fourteen year old boy can make better time than I did on that
occasion, I should like to see him run. I kept possession of my
fowling-piece, and came out neck and neck with my friend. We scrambled
over the outer fence, and ran some dozen rods or more in the open
field, without either of us looking back.
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