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 Several times Redcoat had been very close to the trail when the thunderer passed, and the din that it made gave him a great fright, for the thunderer snorted and shrieked and whistled and made the earth tremble beneath Redcoat's feet.

Six miles to the east of the fox den, the trail of the thunderer turned to the South and ran between some hills. Here there was a place for an eighth of a mile where the thunderer's trail had such steep banks that it was almost impossible for either a man or an animal to climb up out of the trail.

One day, Redcoat in a curious mood, went down the trail through this deep cut. He had come to the further end, when looking a mile or so down the trail he saw the smoke that the thunderer always made, and then he heard the strange sound that the thunderer sometimes gave. If he would get back through the deep cut Redcoat must hurry. He had outrun a pack of swift hounds the week before and he felt very sure of his own fleetness. The thunderer could not catch him.