magic in darkness. However dead by day, the 

 fields and woods are fully alive at night. We 

 stop at the creaking of the bare boughs over- 

 head as if some watchful creature were about to 

 spring upon us ; every stump and bush is an 

 animal that we have startled into sudden fixed- 

 ness ; and out of every shadow we expect a 

 live thing to rise up and withstand us. The 

 hoot of the owl, the bark of the fox, the whinny 

 of the coon, send shivers of excitement over us. 

 We jump at a mouse in the leaves near by. 



Helped out by the spell of moonlight and 

 the collusion of a ready fancy, it is possible to 

 have a genuine adventure by seizing a logy, 

 grinning possum by the tail and dragging him 

 out of a stump. Under such conditions he 

 looks quite like a ferocious beast, grunting and 

 hissing with wide-open mouth ; and you may 

 feel just a thrill of the real savage's joy as you 

 sling him over your shoulder. 



But never go after possums alone, nor with a 

 white man. If you must go, then go with Uncle 

 Jethro and Calamity. I remember particularly 

 one night's hunt with Uncle Jethro. I had come 

 upon him in the evening out on the kitchen steps 

 [9] 



