CHAPTER I 



CATCHING MY FIRST RACCOON 



REMINISCENCES 



OF PIONEER DA.YS ON 



THE OLD KANKAKEE RIVER 



CATCHING MY FIRST 



RACCOON 



"Oh the hunting days of my youth, 

 Have forever gone from me." 



I was born in a log cabin on my grandfather's 

 farm near Valparaiso, Indiana in 1860, and 

 within two miles and a half of the historical 

 stream of which I am going to tell you. It was 

 whilst watching the vanishing of a great hunting 

 ground by the reclaiming of the Kankakee 

 swamp lands, or rather making a new Kanka- 

 kee River, that involves the plot which forms 

 the gist of my story. I have seen the sad face 

 of the old Pottowattomie Indian who was driven 



