NIGHT HUNTING. 21 



hunters reach the tree, fell it, and find the gai:ie 

 not there. 



All this time Mr. 'Coon is quietly fishing and 

 laughing in his sleeve, perhaps a mile away. 

 But not so with the wise old 'coon hound. The 

 old, experienced 'cooner, with seemingly human 

 intelligence, no sooner reaches the tree Mr. 

 'Coon has ^'tapped" than he begins circling 

 around the tree, never opening his mouth — 

 circling wider and wider until he strikes the 

 trail again. This he repeats every time the 

 'coon takes a tree, until finally, when he has to 

 take a tree to keep from being caught on the 

 ground, the hound circles as before and, finding 

 no trail leading away, he goes back to the tree, 

 and with a triumphant cry proclaims the fact 

 that he is victorious. He is not the least bit 

 doubtful. He knows the coon went up the tree 

 and he knows he has never come down so he 

 reasons (?) that the coon is there, and with 

 every breath he calls his master to come and bag 

 his game. When the tree is felled the fun be- 

 gins. The 'coon is game to death. He dies 

 fighting — and such a magnificent fight it is ! 

 The uninformed might suppose there would not 

 be much of a fight between a 50-pound 'coon 

 hound and a 20-pound 'coon. Well, there is not, 

 if the 'coon hound is experienced and knows his 

 business. Of course, the 'coon will put up a 



