518 BIO GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 



None too soon, old fellow, for here they come; the whole 

 pack not five yards apart. They have reached the old 

 eight-rail fence, and no time is lost in scaling it, as they 

 make the top rails rattle in their displacement by their 

 flying heels. 



"Look! do you see .that, Cottie?" as a rabbit dashed 

 out of a corner of the fence, near where the dogs crossed, 

 and took down through an open path parallel to the fence. 



Our old owls, too, have made haste and sought some 

 other part of the woods, where they can see just as well, 

 and not be disturbed by the pandemonium. The old plant- 

 igrade, finding things rather livelier in his rear than he 

 had bargained for, after running about one hundred yards 

 from the field fence, took shelter in the upper branches of 

 a large burr-oak. The moon having risen sufficiently high, 

 there was no trouble in locating and shooting him. And 

 now, having had sport enough for one night, we turned 

 our steps homeward. 



One morning, about the first of June, 1886, just at sunrise, 

 I had taken a bucket and started to the well, distant about 



eighty yards from the house, when Mrs. A , who had 



been feeding her poultry, called to me, and said there was a 

 young turkey missing. I started on down the path leading 

 to the well, when I saw in the dust of the path the tracks of 

 an uncommonly large 'Coon, made some time during the 

 past night. He had followed the path down to the well and 

 past it, toward a large swamp, of some five acres, that lay 

 ten or fifteen rods beyond, and extended into the big woods. 

 After returning with the water, I told my wife that I had 

 got on the track of her turkey-thief, and that while she was 

 getting breakfast, I would get out a writ and have him 

 arrested. 



I took my rifle, got my ax, whistled up old "Boag," 

 and pointed out the track to him. He sniffed around a 

 little while, threw up his head, and gave one of those long 

 blasts of Fox-hound music that always means business. 

 He then struck off toward the swamp, from which he 

 had already, in times past, started many a Raccoon, and 



