THE RACCOON 



In March that brief summary of a bear, the 

 raccoon, comes out of his den in the ledges, 

 and leaves his sharp digitigrade track upon the 

 snow, — traveling not unfrequently in pairs, — 

 a lean, hungry couple, bent on pillage and 

 plunder. They have an unenviable time of it, 

 — feasting in the summer and fall, hibernating 

 in winter, and starving in spring. In April I 

 have found the young of the previous year 

 creeping about the fields, so reduced by starva- 

 tion as to be quite helpless, and ofPering no re- 

 sistance to my taking them up by the tail and 

 carrying them home. 



The old ones also become very much emaci- 

 ated, and come boldly up to the barn or other 

 out-buildings in quest of food. I remember, one 

 morning in early spring, hearing old Cuff, the 

 farm-dog, barking vociferously before it was yet 

 light. When we got up we discovered him at 

 the foot of an ash-tree, which stood about thirty 

 rods from the house, looking up at some gray 



