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The Poopampareno

huntingDeep in the mountains of Western North Carolina, there was a man who was a great hunter but got to thinking he could do without the faithful dogs that had always helped him. Their names were Rambo and Bingo, and one day he left them shut up behind a high picket fence and went off into the woods along. Before he left, he put a pan of milk in the pen for the dogs, but they felt so bad about being left behind they didn’t go near it for a long time. When they did try to drink the milk, they found that it had turned to blood.

Now, the hunter was walking boldly through the woods when suddenly he found himself face to face with the Poopampareno! There was only one place that it could be hurt, and that was right under the chin. Anywhere else a bullet would bounce off from its skin like a rubber ball. So it’s no wonder the hunter threw down his gun and ran for his life.

Just in time he reached a tall pine tree, the tallest in that section of the woods. He didn’t stop climbing until he was at the tip top. When he looked down, his blood ran cold. The Poopampareno’s lips were draw back from his terrible saw teeth and he was grinning at the hunter. Then he began to saw with his teeth. Through the bark he sawed, and into the wood. Then the hunter called to his dogs as loud as he could:

Here, Rambo! And Bingo!

Your master’s almost gone!

And a poo-pam and a poo,

And a poo-pam and a po-o-o!

The dogs were far away. They thought they heard something but couldn’t be sure. The milk in their bowl was blood. They feared their master was in danger. They looked at the high fence and wished they could jump over it.

When the hunter called, the Poopampareno looked up at the hunter and grinned again. Then he began to saw harder than ever. The tree began to tremble. Again the hunter called, louder than before:

H-e-r-e, Rambo! A-n-d Bingo!

Your master’s almost gone!

And a poo-pam and a poo,

And a poo-pam and a po-o-o!

This time the dogs barely heard him. They looked at the fence. It was too high to jump, and there was no hole anywhere. Far out in the woods the Poopampareno was taking his time, but the tree was now more than half cut through. It would soon fall. So the hunter called louder than ever:

H-e-r-e, Rambo! A-n-d Bingo!

Your master’s almost gone!

And a poo-pam and a poo,

And a poo-pam and a po-o-o!

This time the dogs heard their master plainly. They backed off as far as they could, and together they jumped. They cleared those high pickets by a scratch. Then neck and neck they raced into the woods. Just as the tree was about to fall , they tore up to the Poopampareno, and they had him by the throat before he could take his teeth out of the trunk.