THE RACCOON 



becomes the erratic centre of the wild 

 huddle of dogs and men. 



Fewer voices never broke the stillness 

 of night with sounds more unearthly 

 than the medley of raging, yelping, 

 growling, cheering, and vociferous orders 

 given forth by dogs, coon, and hunters, 

 while hillside and woodland toss to and 

 fro a more discordant badinage of echo. 

 The coon is not a great beast, but a 

 tough and sharp-toothed one, who carries 

 beneath his gray coat and fat ribs a stout 

 heart and wonderful vitality ; and a 

 tussle with a veteran of the tribe of 

 cornfield robbers tests the pluck of the 

 dogs. 



If the coon takes refuge in a tree too 

 tall and limbless for his pursuers to 

 climb, there is nothing for them but to 

 keep watch and ward till daylight dis- 

 covers him crouched on his lofty perch. 

 A huge fire enlivens the long hours of 

 guard keeping. A foraging party repairs 

 to the nearest cornfield for roasting ears, 

 and the hunters shorten the slow night- 

 tide with munching scorched corn, 

 sauced by joke and song and tales of the 

 coon hunts of bygone years. 

 136 



